​ The head maid wishpers while pinning a heavy jewel to Elanore's collar, " the duke is, as always, consumed by his duties to the Crown. To him, the Great House Valerius is a machine that must never stop running, and he is its cold, tireless engine. So he is always busy in his duties and doesn't spend much time with his family. He is a man of absolute punctuality who believed that a single minute of lateness was a sign of a weak character. He has set a strict schedule that functioned like a ticking time bomb—everyone had to be seated and silent the exact moment. However, he made it a point to clear his harsh schedule for this one hour every morning. Breakfast was the only time the four of them were required to be in the same room."

​"And my mother?" I ask, staring at the stranger in the mirror.

​The maids exchange a look. "The Duchess is occupied with the Spring Gala preparations. If she is not at a social gathering, she is surrounded by tailors, silversmiths, and the finest lace from across the sea. She lives for the glitz of the high society, My Lady. To her, a daughter is... a delicate accessory that should stay in its box until needed."

​I feel a cold shiver that has nothing to do with the morning air. In my old life, I struggled with finances and deadlines, but at least I was real and had a warm family. Here, in this palace of silk and stone, Elanore was a ghost. Her father was too busy to look at her, and her mother was too vain to see her. They didn't take her seriously; to them, she was just a "childish girl" who didn't fit their perfect, luxury brand.

​No wonder she fell, I think, a heavy sigh escaping my lips. Elanore wasn't just clumsy. she was reaching for people who were never there.

"And your brother, Lord Orlando " the maid whispers , her voice dropping as if the walls had ears. "He is... much like your father. He breathes the rules of House Valerius. He thinks your kindness is a weakness that brings shame to the Great House." 

Then another maid wishpers with trembling voice, "for the rest of the day, they live like ghosts in that massive, hollow palace—each person busy with their own business, never interfering or even speaking to one another. This strictly timed meal is the only bridge between their separate worlds, and that is exactly why the silence at the table felt so heavy." 

​I feel a pang of sympathy for the girl who lived in this body before me. In my old office life, I had my own apartment and my own space. But Elanore? She lived in a giant, beautiful palace, yet she was completely alone.

​Her family didn't just ignore her; they looked down on her because she wasn't "cold" like them. She was a warm light in a house made of ice. No wonder she spent all her time chatting with the maids—they were the only ones who didn't look at her like she was a mistake.

I stand before the tall mirror, smoothing out the silk of my gown. I'm not just dressing for a noble breakfast; I'm dressing for a high-stakes board meeting.

​"Okay," I whisper to my reflection. "The plan is simple. I'll tell them the fall scrambled my brain a bit. I'm 'maturing' due to the trauma. If I act too childish, they won't take me seriously. If I act too strange, they'll get suspicious. I have to find the middle ground."

​I look at the head maid. "Go and inform my father. Tell him Lady Elanore has awakened and wishes to offer her formal greetings."

​"Hurry, My Lady!" the maid whisper, her hands shaking as she adjusted Elanore's sleeves. "The Duke permits no delays. The breakfast bell is like a law in this house. If you are even a minute late, he will not care that you were unconscious for seven days. He will only see 'disorder'."

​I feel a familiar spark of adrenaline—the same one I felt when my train was delayed back in my old life. "So, the breakfast table is a boardroom," I mutter to myself, quickly smoothing my hair.

​I understand, "In House Valerius, the family only truly existed at two specific times: the strict morning breakfast and the formal dinner. It's the only time the Tireless Engine (her father), the Social Queen (her mother), and the Academic Perfectionist (Orlando) sit in the same room."

​As I hurry toward the grand dining hall, I realize how cold this routine is. My mother never came to check on her sick child; she was simply attending a scheduled meeting. My brother isn't glad that I'm awake.

​"Fine", I wisper to myself, my eyes are narrowing as I reached the massive oak doors. "They want a perfect, punctual daughter? I've spent years hitting deadlines and clocking in on time. I can play this game better than any of them."

​I reach the door exactly as the final bell chimes. 

​As the maid hurries away, I take a deep breath. "Back in my old life, I had handled angry bosses and difficult clients every day. A scary noble father? He's just another CEO. I can handle this." I tell myself to stay clam. 

​I practice my Noble Smile—polite, distant, and perfectly composed. It's time to show House Valerius that the " Invisible child of the Family" has finally grown some thorns.