Ophelia spent the next ten minutes staring at the door after Alekxander left.
Emily looked equally disturbed.
Which honestly wasn’t comforting.
“…So,” Ophelia said slowly.
“Is it normal for him to talk like a man hiding three murders and a state secret?”
“My lady!”
“What?!”
Emily lowered her voice immediately.
“Please don’t say things like that about Lord Vale.”
“That wasn’t a no.”
The maid looked stressed enough to faint.
Ophelia sighed and sat back down on the edge of the bed.
Her head still hurt slightly from the visions earlier.
This was becoming a serious problem.
Everytime she touched something connected to strong emotions, she saw memories.
Or pieces of them.
And somehow Alekxander was connected to almost all of them.
Which felt deeply unfortunate for her mental stability.
Emily quietly fixed the blankets while avoiding eye contact.
Ophelia noticed immediately.
“Okay,” she said carefully.
“You know something too.”
Emily froze.
Bingo.
The maid turned pale almost instantly.
“I-I don’t know what you mean.”
“That’s a terrible lie by the way.”
“My lady…”
“Emily.” Ophelia softened her voice a little.
“I’m not trying to get you in trouble.”
That seemed to make things worse somehow.
Emily looked genuinely nervous now.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then quietly, the maid said:
“After your engagement was announced…”
She hesitated again.
“…things in this house became strange.”
Ophelia’s chest tightened slightly.
“What kind of strange?”
Emily looked toward the closed door first before lowering her voice.
“The arguments became more frequent.”
Arguments.
Between who?
Before Ophelia could ask, Emily continued softly:
“The Countess and your father rarely agreed with Lord Vale.”
Interesting.
Very interesting.
“And me?” Ophelia asked carefully.
“The original me.”
Emily’s expression changed slightly.
Sadness this time.
“You seemed frightened.”
That answer bothered Ophelia more than she expected.
Because deep down, she already knew it was true.
She could feel it sometimes.
Tiny emotions that didn’t belong to her.
Fear near certain hallways.
Unease whenever the Ashbourne family was mentioned.
And strange comfort whenever Alekxander appeared.
None of it made sense.
A knock interrupted them suddenly.
Emily jumped.
Honestly, everybody in this house needed therapy.
A servant entered carefully.
“My lady, the Countess requests your presence downstairs for tea.”
Tea.
Right.
Because apparently surviving transmigration wasn’t stressful enough already.
Ophelia forced a smile.
“Tell her I’ll be there shortly.”
The servant bowed before leaving.
The second the door closed, Emily looked worried again.
“You should be careful.”
“That sentence is becoming the theme of my life.”
“I’m serious, my lady.”
Ophelia noticed the fear in her voice this time.
Real fear.
And suddenly, the room felt colder.
Maybe because for the first time since waking up here…
She realized this wasn’t just family drama.
Something dangerous was happening inside this house.
And somehow, she was standing in the middle of it.
The Ashbourne manor was even more uncomfortable during daylight.
At night, the darkness at least hid things.
But now Ophelia could properly see the long hallways, giant portraits, and servants quietly avoiding eye contact whenever she passed.
It felt less like a home.
More like a place where people watched each other too carefully.
Emily walked beside her quietly.
“Why does everyone here look like they’re carrying generational trauma?” Ophelia whispered.
Emily nearly choked.
“My lady!”
“What? I’m observant.”
The maid looked seconds away from praying for her soul.
By the time they reached the sitting room, Ophelia already wanted to go back upstairs.
The Countess sat near the window elegantly holding a teacup.
Beside her sat a man Ophelia immediately recognized as the Duke Ashbourne.
Her father.
And unlike the Countess, he didn’t even pretend to look happy she survived.
Wonderful.
“You kept us waiting,” he said coldly.
Ophelia blinked once.
“…Good afternoon to you too.”
Silence.
The Countess slowly lowered her teacup.
Meanwhile, the Duke looked genuinely confused by her response.
Honestly, maybe the original Ophelia never talked back.
That sounded exhausting.
Ophelia sat down calmly.
Nobody spoke for a moment.
Then the Duke suddenly asked:
“What exactly do you remember?”
Straight to the point again.
Her stomach tightened slightly.
The room suddenly felt dangerous.
Ophelia forced herself to stay calm.
“About?”
“Your illness.”
There it was.
She noticed the way both of them watched her carefully after the question.
Waiting.
Studying her reaction.
Ophelia suddenly remembered Alekxander’s warning.
Do not trust your family.
A cold feeling settled in her chest.
“Not much,” she lied softly.
The tension in the room eased slightly.
Too slightly.
Which confirmed everything for her immediately.
They knew something.
And whatever happened to the original Ophelia was much bigger than a simple illness.
The Countess finally spoke.
“You should focus on resting and preparing for your marriage.”
There it was again.
Marriage.
Like it was the only thing that mattered.
Ophelia looked down at the tea sitting in front of her.
Then froze.
For a split second,
The cup looked different.
Dark liquid spilling across marble floors.
A woman gasping painfully.
Hands shaking.
Then,
“Don’t drink it.”
Ophelia jerked back suddenly.
The vision disappeared immediately.
The Duke frowned.
“What is it?”
Her breathing became uneven.
The tea.
The original Ophelia was poisoned.
And somehow, her body still remembered it.
Ophelia slowly looked back at the untouched cup in front of her.
Then quietly pushed it away.
“I’m suddenly not thirsty.”
The Countess’ expression changed slightly.
Small.
Almost unnoticeable.
But Ophelia caught it.
And for the first time since arriving here,
Real fear crawled down her spine.
Because what if the poisoning never stopped?
What if someone was still trying to kill her now?
A loud sound suddenly echoed outside the room.
Footsteps.
Then a servant hurried inside looking pale.
“My lord…” he breathed heavily.
“There’s a problem.”
The Duke frowned immediately.
“What happened?”
The servant hesitated.
Then quietly said:
“Lord Vale returned.”
Silence.
Heavy silence.
Ophelia looked around the room slowly.
And realized something terrifying.
Nobody here looked relieved.
They looked afraid.