No matter how much time passed, the man we lived with never changed back. And when his violence finally began to turn toward me as well, my sister made her choice.
She chose the last option.
One day, she quietly left the mansion.
When she returned, she wasn’t alone.
Fully armed knights stood behind her.
That scene is burned into my memory—my sister, trembling, tears streaming down her face as she pointed at Father. Her hands shook, but her eyes were resolute.
That was the last time I ever saw him.
After that day, Father vanished from my life entirely.
Only much later did I come to understand what had truly happened—what my sister had done for us, and the price she paid for it.
Back then, I was too young to grasp any of it.
I was simply happy.
Happy that I would never again be locked in that dark, suffocating basement.
Much time had passed since then.
My sister had become the mistress of the once-vacant Amorin County, and I had continued my studies at the academy as if nothing had happened.
It was an event from more than a decade ago.
Now, I didn’t even feel curious about what became of the father who tormented us back then. And yet, the scars carved into my heart had already taken so much from me.
The Gray Doll.
A cruel nickname given to me because of my perpetually expressionless face. From that point on, I trusted no one and let no one into my heart.
It should have been a story long finished.
A Chapter already closed.
And yet, the memories of that time continued to cling to me like a specter, refusing to fade.
That was why I shut myself away in my room.
Unwilling to waste emotions, I buried myself in books. At least when I was reading, I could escape those nightmarish memories—even if only for a while.
But that was nothing more than a childish illusion.
Eventually, I realized the truth.
Running away would never allow me to move forward.
In my childhood, I had done nothing.
I only cried while watching my sister suffer.
I was the foolish Viola who submitted to violence without even attempting to resist.
But now... it’s different.
I’m tired of crying like a tragic heroine trapped in her own misery.
I’m no longer the helpless child who could only watch as someone precious to her was hurt.
I’ve grown.
I’ve become an adult.
So—
I won’t be devoured by dreams like this anymore.
No matter how painful the past may be, I will face it head-on.
*****
Viola—now in her adult form—stood before Count Amorin, calmly blocking his punch with a single raised hand.
"You dare stand against me, Viola...!!"
"I’m no longer the little girl I was back then."
No longer the frightened child who trembled under his shadow.
No longer the girl who could only endure in silence.
She stood tall. Unyielding.
"You dare defy me!!"
"I’m tired of shedding tears in silence."
"What could someone like you possibly do?!?"
Even as Count Amorin roared with fury, Viola remained composed.
This man—this nightmare—had haunted her for so long.
Yet now, as she faced him, there was not a trace of fear in her eyes.
"You are nothing but my possession."
"No," she replied calmly. "I am not your property."
The trembling young Viola was gone.
In her place stood a woman confronting her past head-on.
"I am myself. Someone who can think for herself. Someone who can make her own choices."
"Are you really trying to defy me, you insolent—!!"
"Yes," she said firmly. "I’m an adult now. I will move forward."
So—
"I should be able to cast aside a nightmare like you."
Her voice carried unwavering resolve as she raised her hand toward Count Amorin.
"What could someone like you possibly do?!" he screamed, his voice nearly hysterical.
"You should stay locked in the basement and obey me!!!"
He swung his fist wildly.
But with a simple, effortless motion from Viola—
Count Amorin crumbled into ash.
And then—
Rumble...
The world began to collapse.
Was this finally the end of that long, suffocating dream?
As everything around her shattered and fell away, Viola remained standing, unmoving.
My vision of her slowly faded—
Until everything was swallowed by darkness.
****
I woke up bathed in warm sunlight.
Blinking groggily, I turned my eyes toward the window and realized the sun was already high in the sky. Morning. I forced the last traces of sleep from my mind, rubbing my eyes as I tried to piece things together.
When did I fall asleep?
I was certain I’d been studying just moments ago.
"...Good morning, Louis."
The quiet voice came from across the table.
I lifted my head. Lisa was still fast asleep beside me, her breathing steady and peaceful. Across from her sat Viola, leaning against the desk, her chin propped on one hand.
Our eyes met.
She was staring straight at me.
"Looks like you had a nightmare," she said calmly.
At that, I instinctively rubbed my face.
Was it really that obvious?
I definitely felt like I’d had a strange dream—something intense, something lingering at the edge of my thoughts. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t remember a single detail.
Just an odd, unsettled feeling in my chest.
"...Guess so," I murmured.
Since I couldn’t recall it anyway, I let the thought go. There was no point clinging to a dream that had already slipped away.
Still half-dazed, I looked back at Viola.
And only then did something click.
At some point—without me even noticing—she’d stopped addressing me formally. No "Lord Louis." No polite distance.
Just "Louis."
I frowned slightly, the realization catching me off guard.
Had something changed?
Viola noticed my expression and tilted her head faintly. Instead of her usual composed, unreadable look, there was a softness in her eyes—calm, relaxed, almost gentle.
Not guarded. Not distant.
...So it wasn’t just my imagination.
Her demeanor had undeniably changed.
And for reasons I couldn’t quite put into words, that realization left my heart feeling strangely restless.