I settled in one of the more private and intimate gardens that they said Allen favoured the most within the castle after breakfast, sitting comfortably in a swing chair adorned with soft cushions and pillows that are perfect to use when one wants to rest their elbows on while reading or chatting. 

Right next to my seat is a small, round wrought iron table with a pot of tea on it, along with an assortment of biscuits for me to consume while reading.

The garden is surrounded by tall trees of various kinds, providing cool shade to a wide area and a variety of flower shrubs of rock cress, snow-in-summer, pink and white dianthus that I recognized with my limited knowledge.

With the random book I pulled out of my shelf, I took in a deep breath to enjoy the scents of nature.

Robbe, along with Marie and a handful of servants, were nearby, waiting on me, with the old butler much closer to my position as he stood ready to pour my tea if I asked him to.

I used to think it would be nice to live like this, having no financial problems or work to speak of and being attended to by people.

However, it was further from the nice life I imagined since I can't even have a proper 'me' time, and their presence is preventing me from digging up information that I need.

Even when I asked them nicely to leave me, they protested as they were worried for my health and would not risk Allen's anger if he found out I was left on my own.

Resigning temporarily to my fate, I opened the book to read in hopes that it'll bring some peace of mind.

Unfortunately, it was another source of stress.

'Why can't I read the words? Wouldn't the language be the same as the one in my past life?'

Keeping my expression stoic while I internally panic, I squinted at the page and took notice of the embossed texture on it. Curious, I prodded it and the familiar sensation under my touch surprised me.

Oh.

Of course something like the braille system would exist here solely for her.

The lady I've possessed was visually impaired growing up and so they have to find a way for her, though it made me question how young she was when it happened, since I couldn't recognize one letter by looking.

Laying the book as flat as possible on the cushion on my lap, I ran my fingers on the page with a newfound confidence in reading, oblivious to the pensive mood that befell my attendants as they watched my actions.

It was one of the most boring reads I've ever done in my life, as it was a book about Monarch studies. Thanks to that, whiling away the time seems much slower and uninteresting.

Why do I have such a stupid book on my shelf? It's not like I'm going to inherit any title.

Idly turning to another page that didn't offer any information as to where I am, a young male attendant came rushing in and hurriedly whispered something to Robbe, whose expression gradually darkened.

I reached for the teacup, glancing at them curiously as I drank the sweet tea they prepared for me.

Dismissing the attendant with a stiff gesture, Robbe turned his attention to me and politely bowed his head.

"Your Grace, pardon my intrusion on your reading time."

I finished the tea, smiling gently at him. "No worries, I'm almost done reading for the time being. What is it?"

"His Royal Highness has sent word that he'll be accompanying Lord Allen to visit you."

His Royal Highness?

The Crown Prince of the Kingdom is visiting?

The very same guy that Allen is most annoyed with? He's going to travel with him?

"Will he be okay?"

Naturally, I was asking about Allen. He already had to deal with some stupid meeting, now he has to travel with the guy he hates the most.

However, the people around me thought otherwise.

"I guess so, Your Grace. The message we received from His Grace was to clear the area of the teleportation portal in the west wing for their arrival in a few hours, for His Royal Highness's comfort as well."

"Ah, I see. I guess I should freshen up to meet with them. Have the kitchen prepare something for them, please."

I stood up,  intending to get back to my room and finally stuff this book into the deepest part of the shelf.

Robbe, however, completely misunderstood everything. His frown and tone of voice was like a concerned grandfather towards his naive granddaughter.

"Lady Aine, we know that you favour Prince Konrad more than anyone else as he is your childhood friend and fiancé but with the current situation of the royal family…"

He trailed off when I smiled at him gently.

"Robbe."

"Yes, my lady."

"Please prepare a feast for my brother's return. I'll leave it up to you to serve his favourites in return for his thoughtful breakfast idea."

☆☆☆

I hurried back to my chambers, locking every single attendant out of the room so I could think clearly.

The names Robbe had mentioned had somehow unlocked a forgotten memory.

I touched every book on my desk, desperately looking for something related to the family. When my fingers brushed against the familiar crest embossed on the spine, I yanked it out.

It looked like a customised diary of some sort, as the papers were thick and looked like it was hand-bound.

Flipping it open, I touched the letters written there and the world seemingly crumbled around me.

'Aine Fiore Carran…'

It was written in the braille-like system of this world. Probably made by the young lady in her early studying years.

She must have used this to practise while she studies an entirely new language system.

There's only one female lead that comes to mind for me: the unfortunate barrier maiden, the Exalted Priestess, doomed to die halfway through the story, to bring about the changes for the protagonist Allen and the deuteragonist Konrad to save their world.

[The Exalt's Folly]

The title of that said work comes unbidden to my mind as if mocking me and my hubris.

It was my own work, re-written over and over for more than ten years, never reaching a proper conclusion and ultimately got abandoned like any other passion project I worked on due to my own self-deprecation, always thinking that no matter what I write, it'll never be as interesting like others' works.

I stared at the pages in complete silence, racking my brain for the snippets of the story that may still exist in my memory.

I gave her my nickname and gave her the same visual impairment that I had as I was slowly losing my own eyesight when I was younger; I was also being a dramatic little shit about it in the story, even though mine could be fixed with eyeglasses.

"Now what am I supposed to do…?" I mumbled to myself in despair.

Why did I write about such a tragedy?

This is ridiculous.

Most transmigration stories I've read didn't deal with this kind of thing. Normally it'll be the readers thrusted into the protagonist role and the author is sidelined into a minor character, if they were unfortunate enough to be pulled in as well.

I haven't encountered anything like this where one was pulled into an incomplete and abandoned story.

The most obvious thing to do in this situation is to complete the story.

However, that would mean I'll die on my twenty-eighth birthday, if we are to go by the first few drafts of the story.

I blinked.

Wait. How old am I right now?

Closing the diary and putting it in the drawer, I took a deep calming breath before turning to the door.

The only way to glean more information is to talk to the people who have been around me for the past years.

☆☆☆

"Your age, my lady?" Marie said in surprise as she combed my hair. "Did the long sleep affect your memory?"

"Uh, in a way. Did my birthday come to pass while I was unconscious?" I carefully asked, fiddling with the skirt of the new dress I changed into.

"Your birthday is in June, my lady. It's only March." Marie chuckled.

"Mm. I see."

Of course I'd set Aine's birthday in June. It's my real birthday month after all.

"Oh, but I've never answered your question, did I? You'll be twenty-six this year, my lady." Marie cheerfully told me as she did my hair into a half romantic braid.

I paled at that.

I only have two years left.

Marie noticed my expression and frowned. "Are you feeling well, my lady? You needn't push yourself to welcome them…"

"Ah, no. I'm only nervous. I've caused them worry for many months…"

Marie nodded sagely at that as she turned to the jewellery box and pulled out a pair of aquamarine stones cut into teardrops. She then handed it to me, so that I could place them upon my ears carefully.

Marie sighed dreamily. "His Royal Highness has good eyes on what to give you, yet he's such a…"

She stopped, shaking her head. "I'm sorry, my lady. Please don't tell him how we speak ill of him."

I know I've written Konrad in a way people would hate him in the first part of the story but…how bad is he here, for them to speak ill of him at every turn?