Time Will Change Everything

“Golden, pointed helmets…” the puppet asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, they were a group of knights wearing strange golden, pointed helmets. They seemed to call themselves members of the Church of Light.”

Perhaps she recalled something, for Harriet’s eyes blazed with fury as she bit down hard on her delicate lips.

However, it wasn’t long before her shoulders slumped in defeat, and she took a tasteless sip of her tea.

Setting down her teacup, the red-eyed viscountess bowed slightly to the puppet, her expression filled with sorrowful apology.

“I apologize. My agitated state has caused you amusement.”

“It’s quite alright. Take your time. We have plenty of it, after all.”

The puppet offered a gentle smile, soothing the girl who was so desperately trying to suppress her emotions.

Yet, from the corner of her eye, she subtly glanced at the golden-haired young man seated behind her, who watched his ‘parent’ with a worried gaze.

A playful smirk touched the puppet’s lips.

“If you can’t think of what to say, perhaps you could start with an introduction? After all, I still don’t know your name.”

“…Ah! I’m so terribly sorry, I forgot. My name is Harriet, and I am the personal maidservant to Her Royal Highness Princess Annelise, the mistress of Cainhurst Castle.”

The puppet observed the girl, who was a whirlwind of anxiety and panic, yet tried desperately to restrain herself, fearing to displease her.

She resembled a puppet with tangled strings, and the puppet finally let out a sigh.

“Speak slowly. I won’t be displeased by such a minor matter… First, gather your thoughts.”

The teapot on the stone table effortlessly floated up, automatically refilling the teacup in the girl’s hand.

Steaming vapors, mingled with the refreshing, rich aroma of tea, swirled around them.

The elegant, lingering fragrance slowly brought the panicked girl back to a state of calm.

A moment later, Harriet, now completely composed, began to recount the bloody night within the ancient castle.

“Is that all? So, within the castle, the only living bloodkin left are some low-ranking monster servants and a few lingering spirits?”

“And Her Royal Highness, the Mistress! With her ability to ‘resurrect,’ she absolutely cannot die!”

“Mm… I understand. Let me think.”

The puppet nodded, lost in thought.

The story was a cliché: members of the castle, venturing outside, were inadvertently discovered and apprehended by the Church of Light.

Under duress, they revealed the castle’s location.

The knights, dedicated to eradicating dark creatures, then stormed the castle, initiating a massacre.

In the aftermath, only Harriet, hidden in a chimney, had managed to escape.

‘This opening had been overused by bards… a fleeing lady encountering a down-and-out knight, who then defies fate for his beloved, helping her reclaim everything…’

The puppet cast a sidelong glance at the ‘down-and-out knight’ sitting nearby.

Alger, seated behind, felt a chill creep down his spine, as if some ominous historical task had just fallen upon him.

‘Such a tiresome story, but…’

“State your mistress’s full name again.”

The puppet spoke, her gaze fixed on Harriet, whose eyes held both hope and a touch of worry.

“…Annelise Floralis Hearst.”

‘Floralis… It truly has been a long time since I heard that surname.’

Fragments of memory began to surface from beneath the sands of time, slowly exuding an ancient, nostalgic aura that made the puppet’s gaze momentarily vacant.

It was as if she had become lost within a fading album of old pictures.

‘It has indeed been a very long time…’

Overwhelmed by emotion, Sally’s gaze seemed to transcend time and space, once again beholding that tall figure with flowing silver hair.

Colorless parchment unrolled and curled, revealing blurred images and the words inscribed beneath them.

Under the Silver Moon:

“Kid, crying won’t do any good!”

Inside the Tavern:

“Ha, so you’ve discovered my identity! Aren’t you afraid of me? I’ll suck your blood!”

Upon the Plains:

“I know a place with beautiful scenery. Care to see it?”

And the arguments where their ideals clashed:

“Revenge! Revenge! Revenge! Is that all you know? What good can your small frame do against that behemoth?!”

“Fine, I can’t control you anymore! Do whatever you want! …Put on this ring! …It’s fine! I have plenty of these! Don’t underestimate me!”

“This is the last time… you must live! If you die, I, who will surely become a True Ancestor in the future, will laugh myself to death at your grave!”

“Goodbye…”

The fragmented images abruptly ceased, leaving behind only a creeping melancholy in its wake.

The nascent demon, blinded by hatred at the time, had not seen it.

But now, in retrospect, that shimmering light must have been the tears overflowing from her eyes.

‘Grace… Is this your descendant? Time… it truly changes everything. That lone heroine who once roamed the world now has her own family.’

The fragments that had surged into her mind receded once more, and the puppet’s vacant eyes returned to normal.

They remained gentle and refined, yet now held a glimmer of remembrance.

“Do you… recognize the pattern on this ring?”

With a similar hint of anticipation, the puppet reached into the void, drawing forth a simple black ring adorned with a single silver crystal.

Within the translucent silver crystal, a sword-like pattern was intricately carved, though by what means was unclear.

The ring glowed with a faint white light, lending it a subtle, ethereal quality.

“This is… the Ring of Oath! How could you possibly?! …Oh, forgive my impudence.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t mind. It seems you’re familiar with this ring?”

“How could I not be! This is the only ring of the Hearst family! It signifies identity and status! Only the castle mistress can wear it, and only a direct bloodline descendant of the Hearst family! It should still be on my Queen’s hand! How could it be…?”

The Viscountess’s gaze upon the puppet grew uneasy, and deep within her eyes, a wary expression resurfaced.

“Wait… no, this ring is a man’s! I remember Her Highness’s was a lady’s!”

However, the surge of wariness instantly transformed into bewildered uncertainty.

The girl’s murmuring did not escape the puppet’s incredibly keen hearing.

Yet, these words, rich with information, did not amuse Sally with their discovery.

Instead, they churned her already slightly turbulent heart with a mixture of complex emotions.

‘Two rings, one for a man, one for a woman? Ah… Grace, you truly are something…’

In that moment, the puppet, an alchemical creation, could distinctly feel a bitter taste slowly rising from the back of its tongue.

“I agree. I’ll accompany you to Cainhurst Castle!”

“Rings, rings, two of them… Wait! You agreed!! Really?”

“Heh, it’s true. Let’s depart now. Your Queen may already be waiting quite impatiently.”

With words laden with profoundly complex emotions, the puppet finally decided on her itinerary for the coming period.

“Um… may I inquire as to your reason for agreeing, esteemed one?”

“My reason? …You’ll likely know once you meet your Queen. But then again, who can truly say…”

The river of time’s passage carries everything away, leaving behind only faded seashells for people to gather.

Yet, how could those broken, lifeless shells ever preserve the emotions and sentiments of that time?

They only leave behind lingering sorrow…

‘Though there is no longer any news of my friend, it is partly my dereliction of duty that her descendant has suffered such misfortune…’

‘Therefore…’

“Let us depart immediately.”

Ignoring the bewildered, flustered maidservant, the puppet exhaled deeply towards the distant sky, as if wishing to release the accumulated emotions within her heart.

Yet, an unspeakable mix of joy and sorrow, interwoven with a glimmer of faint hope, ultimately coalesced into a single trembling thought deep within her heart.

‘Perhaps…’

‘My old friend is still waiting for me.’