The next morning was entirely different. There were neither the birds' chirping nor the innocent quiet of a breakfast. The peace of the table in the garden was behind us now, and a door to a wholly different world had opened before me.

I found myself inside the teleportation hall of the capital just as the sun reached the zenith.

Veytharis.

The capital of Duke Demetrius. Its stone towers thrust into the sky, their navy and gold filigree proclaiming both the city's wealth and its grandeur. The runic patterns that lined the streets made even the domes reaching heavenward seem alive, their thin lines glittering with every step. When I stepped out of the teleportation chamber, sparks from the enchanted stones still tingled on my skin.

I drew a deep breath before plunging into the city's bustle. Everything here was brighter, larger, and yet more dangerous. This was the very heart of my father's rule of the magnificent Duke, who had never officially acknowledged me as his son.

At that moment, a familiar but forbidden silhouette stepped into view.

Rebecca.

A beautiful woman with short white hair and blue eyes. She had the Duke's knights with her, and when she saw me she smiled and walked over. Her steps were slow and full of certainty.

She had tucked her hair beneath a dark blue scarf and worn a gown the noble ladies of the city favored. But the expression she carried was not the ordinary look a sister gives her brother.

When she reached me, the corner of her mouth curved slightly.

"Leonardo… you finally came. For a moment I was afraid you'd join the army again just to avoid showing up," she said, her voice a whisper threaded with mockery.

I was not surprised to find her waiting; after all, I had told her I would come before heading to the capital.

I replied with a faint smile. "Good to see you, Reb. Let us not keep the honorable duke waiting, then."

Rebecca tilted her head without losing her smile. "Impatient as always," she said.

She gave a brief signal to the knights. From the hum of the crowd behind us, a carriage embroidered in black and gold glided forward. The horses were clad in navy blue armour, their helmets adorned with the silver relief of the ducal coat of arms. Even the wheels were not ordinary; with every turn they scattered sparks across the stones, as if the carriage itself exuded a magical splendour.

When the door opened with the brass knocker's sleek sound, silk-lined seats and crystal-laced lamps came into view. It was not a vehicle so much as a portable piece of palace.

With a graceful movement, Rebecca gathered her skirts and stepped inside. She turned to me, fixing those blue eyes on mine. "Come," she said.

I followed and took a seat on the soft leather cushions. The din of the city vanished. The windows had been magically soundproofed. When the knights shut the door, we were two shadows cut off from the world. The carriage lurched forward with a slow shudder.

"I had forgotten how rich a duke can be," I said, glancing at a compartment that looked as if it held vintages a few centuries old.

Rebecca pretended not to hear. Her bright blue eyes went briefly distant, then returned to me. That old forbidden curve reappeared at the corner of her mouth. The carriage rocked with the horses' steps, and suddenly Rebecca rose.

Without hesitation, she leaned toward me and, in a single movement, folded herself into my lap. Our eyes locked for a moment, then Rebecca pressed her mouth to mine.

The kiss was a deep, silent storm. Her hands threaded through my neck, and I found myself instinctively holding the small of her back. Things I had suppressed for years beat against their chains as if aching to break free.

When she parted her lips, she rested her forehead against mine. Her voice held both a trembling longing and a commanding certainty.

"I missed you."

Outside, the glorious streets of the city were a muted backdrop behind the enchanted glass. Inside there were only our breaths and twin heartbeats.

"Rebecca… you do know we're in our father's city, right? Shouldn't we be more careful in the lair of the beast?"

Rebecca laughed softly without lifting her forehead. Her laugh held a challenge, and a hidden ache.

"I know that, which is exactly why I'm doing this. This might be my only chance to kiss you until we leave. We must be cautious in the palace."

As the carriage's magical wheels flung sparks over the stones, Rebecca resumed her seat. She withdrew from my lap but did not take her eyes off me.

There was a reflected shadow of Veytharis in her blue eyes, with the city's splendour woven from its darker corners. Outside, cathedral spires and gilded bridges streamed past the window. The city was a living tableau of the Duke's power.

"So how did Mother Duchess Matilda receive my visit? I hope she didn't poison my food," I said, trying to cut the thick air.

Rebecca turned her head when she heard me. The smile that flickered at her lips was not cheerful so much as sardonic.

"I never understood why you two never got along. Don't worry, Leo. She has become calmer and more understanding with age. Just don't be disrespectful. After all, she was a princess and then a duchess by marriage."

She shrugged, then fixed her blue eyes on me. "So, Leo, she won't put poison in your meal. But she won't give you a warm smile either. To her, you are always an embarrassment on the edge, not accepted, but impossible to ignore."

"And my siblings? They won't do anything foolish, will they?"

Rebecca was silent for a moment in reply. Inside the carriage, only the rhythmic thud of the wheels against the stones could be heard. I realized then that silence could itself be an answer.

Finally, she tapped the crystal work at the window with a finger. The clicking sounded almost like a code. Then her words came, measured but deep.

"Just look away from the things you must look away from."

I frowned. "So they won't do anything to me?"

Rebecca looked at me. Beneath those blue eyes, there seemed a fissure cracking across ice. "They won't… or they can't. Because I am here."

Her tone carried a calm and a shadow of threat. I knew she meant it to reassure me, but it stirred a strange unease in me too. It made me feel as if without her support I could not last a day in this city.

After a little while, Rebecca signalled to the knights. The carriage slowed; the spark-shedding wheels quieted until the vehicle stopped. Through the window, I expected to see the palace walls, but instead there was a secluded garden. High cypress trees and white marble columns formed an enclosed space.

Rebecca gathered her skirt and rose. The playful glint so often in her eyes was gone; in its place was a softness bordering on melancholy. "Come," she said.

When the carriage door opened, the garden's cool air hit my face. There was no city hum here, only the whisper of leaves and a distant birdcall. Rebecca led me along a stone path. At the end stood a simple but elegant white marble tombstone, embroidered with navy flowers and a dynastic crest.

Rebecca bowed her head. "Your mother," she said softly.

Thankfully, I already had the original Leonardo's memories, so I turned to her with genuine surprise. Rebecca understood and smiled as she saw it on my face.

"I know you'll say her grave is not supposed to be here. Years ago, I had her relocated and had a proper tomb erected. Had you been to the duchy before, you would have known."

Though the name carved into the stone belonged to a stranger, in the depths of my mind another echo stirred. She was not my mother. Yet within Leonardo's memories, the warmth of that woman's smile, the tenderness of her hands, the fights she had waged to protect her son against the icy walls of the palace: all of it remained.

When I touched the grave, the marble felt ice cold under my fingertips. My heart remembered a grief that was not mine.

Rebecca did not break my silence. She knelt at my side and laid a small bouquet of blue lilies at the foot of the tomb. "She was always kind to you. I brought you here so you wouldn't forget that."

I had never known this woman, but through Leonardo's recollections I felt her kindness. I found myself split. One part of me belonged to the youth of the modern world; the other had been raised within this cold dynasty and felt the sting of orphanhood.

I took a deep breath. "Rebecca… do you know why my mother died?"

Rebecca did not look away from the grave. Her lips were pressed together; the silence she kept was heavier than a thousand sentences. At last, in a voice barely above a whisper, she said:

"It happened after you joined the army and I went to the academy. So, neither of us knows. You suspected something about your mother. But you never had proof. If it will ease you, I read a report in my father's study once that said there were no marks on her body and her organs were intact. So her death was probably painless."

Her voice was as light as the breeze and as cold as marble. She spoke as if pronouncing a truth that had been buried for a long time.

"Painless…" I repeated to myself. The word held both relief and guilt.

My fingertips still pressed the marble, its chill sinking into my palm. I felt like an actor kneeling at a stranger's grave, playing out a part. But Leonardo's heart at that tomb was a child's heart, trembling. Between my two selves, the line seemed to thin at that stone.

Rebecca turned to me. "Leo," she said, softer now. "There is no justice in this world. At least not in our family. So you may not find answers to some questions. But if you ever do…" Her eyes flashed, her mouth hardened. "…I will be by your side. But make your plans carefully. One wrong whisper and you will be standing by this grave."

I exhaled. A feeling I had not known for years rose within me; a kind of mourning for a loss that was not mine. At the same time, my modern self knew this was merely information: a fact, an event. For Leonardo, however, it was a vast void.

For the first time since I had been reborn into Leonardo's body, I felt as though I were experiencing not only what I felt but also the real Leonardo's emotions, and then I shook myself back. I had come here to form useful alliances, not to chase vengeance.

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