Chapter 43
The morning sun of the Valderian Empire gleamed down upon the middle wall district, casting golden light across the bustling cobbled streets. Merchant stalls lined the avenue like a chaotic mosaic of color—fruits in pyramid displays, bolts of fine silk fluttering like banners, and hawkers shouting the merits of their wares in rhythmic chants. Horses trotted past, their hooves clacking against stone, and the general hum of daily life echoed through the alleys and plazas.
But suddenly, the commotion faltered. Heads turned, and voices dropped into hushed awe. From around the corner rolled a luxurious, obsidian-black carriage, carved with silver accents that shimmered like moonlight. Its wheels bore the stylized crest of a scorpion—sharp and intricate. The symbol of House Obrechtz.
"That’s... the Obrechtz crest, isn’t it?"
"Yeah, yeah! Look at those guards!"
"Heavily armored... those are A-rank knights, no doubt. What’s a duchal house like that doing here in the middle wall?"
"Shh! Keep your voice down. You don’t want to be overheard."
Children tugged at their parents’ sleeves. Merchants whispered behind raised hands. Even the local guards stood straighter as the scorpion-marked carriage passed by, its presence invoking both dread and curiosity.
Inside the carriage, nestled on a velvet seat of deep sapphire, sat a petite girl with long black hair tied in twin ribbons and eyes that gleamed like polished obsidian. Helena Obrechtz.
Only four years old, yet her demeanor carried a weight far beyond her years. Her small brows were furrowed, lips pursed in deep contemplation. Her tiny black boots swung slightly as she sat, legs not quite long enough to touch the floor.
Her mind was not on the scenery outside but on the memory from yesterday. A memory that continued to replay in her head.
At the Obrechtz mansion, she had been in her sister Katarina’s room. The two of them looked similar—same black eyes, same long raven hair, same heart-shaped face—but only Helena carried the burden of memory from a past life.