The day passed in the blink of an eye, and before I knew it, the morning sun was slipping through the heavy curtains of my room. I lazily opened my eyes, slowly regaining consciousness as if caught between a tranquil dream and an elusive reality.

I got out of bed and headed straight to the bathroom, letting the warm water wash away the remnants of sleep, as if cleansing me of the weight of the past that lingered within me. Not long after, the maid arrived, carrying a new dress in her arms—one that had been specially tailored for me at the family atelier.

I pulled my hair back into a medium ponytail, leaving soft bangs to brush lightly against my forehead. I applied a touch of lip balm, giving my lips a sheer pink hue. When the maid offered to add some makeup, I declined without hesitation. There was nothing in my face that needed embellishment; my skin was radiant as it was, with nothing to conceal.

I slipped into my new dress, a masterpiece of meticulous craftsmanship:

 • The bodice was made of sheer white fabric, featuring a high neckline adorned with delicate ruffles, adding a subtle regal touch.

 • The long, slightly puffed sleeves tapered into fitted cuffs around my wrists, enhancing the dress's elegance.

 • A corset cinched my waist, adorned with small buttons and two satin ribbons that exuded an air of refinement.

 • The skirt flowed gracefully, composed of airy, translucent layers in a soft sky-blue hue, embellished with faint floral patterns, making me look like a princess straight out of a fairy tale.

 • A final touch: a small flower was pinned to my shoulder—a simple yet exquisite detail that accentuated the dress's beauty.

After I was done, I grabbed a quick cup of coffee.

It had barely touched my lips before the phone rang with a familiar tone. Monica.

— "I'm on my way to the estate. Hurry up."

I set the cup aside and rushed outside, but I couldn't slip away before running into my mother on the stairs.

— "Is Monica and William coming to pick you up?" she asked in a calm voice, though there was a trace of concern hidden within it.

I nodded and answered, "Yes, Mother."

She reached for her elegant leather wallet, opened it carefully, and pulled out some money. Then, with a gentle touch, she placed the bills in my hand as if she were placing a piece of her heart.

— "Keep this. You might need it."

I looked at her with a grateful smile. "Thank you, Mother."

But she didn't stop there. The firm strictness of a mother returned to her features as she said, "Five o'clock. I want you back."

"Yes, I promise." I kissed her cheek softly before stepping away.

As I stepped through the estate gates, I felt as though I was reclaiming a piece of my stolen freedom. This was the first time I had left the estate since I had been reincarnated into this body. It wasn't just a short outing—it was a step toward earning their trust, toward breaking free from the constraints they had placed around my life.

A cream-colored car pulled up in front of me, its engine purring softly, reminiscent of the early luxury cars that marked the rise of the automobile industry.

The window rolled down, revealing Monica's confident smile.

— "Come on, get in, girl!" she said excitedly.

I took a deep breath before stepping inside, unaware that this journey would not be just a casual outing—but the beginning of something I never expected.

As I settled into the car, I greeted William, Monica's fiancé. He was a French businessman, a well-known jewelry merchant, but there was nothing particularly striking about his appearance. A man of quiet presence, polite, yet unremarkable in any way.

Still, he couldn't hide the adoration in his eyes whenever he looked at Monica. He showered her with sweet words throughout the ride, making me feel like an intruder in their world—unseen, merely a shadow in the back seat.

But Monica, as if she had read my thoughts, decided to break the overly romantic atmosphere. She turned to me with a mischievous smile and said:

— "Aurora…"

I slowly raised an eyebrow, pretending not to hear her.

— "Huh?"

Monica chuckled lightly before continuing:

— "Well, Rip is meeting me later at Mozmir Restaurant."

There was something odd in her tone.

— "Mmm…?"

She went on, feigning nonchalance:

— "I'll leave you with my brother to show you around the city while I go on my date with William. You know how strict my father is, so I had to tell a little white lie."

I felt an overwhelming urge to twist my hair around my fingers to mask my irritation, but instead, I simply gave her a cold look and said:

— "Do as you please."

But deep down, I wished I could get back at her for this ridiculous trick.

When we arrived at the restaurant, I got out alongside Monica and William.

— "See you! Enjoy your time!" Monica called out with a wave before driving off with William in their car.

I took a deep breath. Well, I was finally alone. Looking around excitedly, I wanted to try the luxurious restaurants I had only read about in novels.

As soon as I sat down, a young waitress approached me with a bright smile.

— "What would you like to order, miss?"

I glanced at the menu—it was filled with exquisite dishes I had never seen before. But my eyes landed on the desserts.

"Strawberry cream cake and milk tea."

The waitress nodded politely and walked away. I felt a surge of excitement, imagining myself as the heroine of a luxurious story, enjoying her time in an elegant restaurant.

My order arrived, and I began eating my dessert happily. I lifted a spoonful to my mouth, but the moment I looked up, I froze in place.

There was a man sitting across from me.

A man in his thirties, wearing a beige shirt with a jacket draped over his shoulders in a classic style. His black hair framed sharp, golden-yellow eyes—eyes like those of a wolf, filled with confidence and scrutiny.

He was handsome. But more than that, his presence dominated the entire space.

— "How are you, Miss Aurora Valeska?"

His voice was deep and firm, carrying a secret I couldn't quite grasp.

I tried to process the situation.

— "Who are you? And why are you sitting here uninvited? Do I know you, sir?"

The man smiled. It wasn't an ordinary smile—it was a blend of amusement and mystery.

— "Really? It seems you've lost your memory for real."

I leaned back slightly in my seat.

— "I am Ripht Dialli, the eldest son of my family and Monica's older brother."

I took a cautious breath.

— "I know that, but…"

He cut me off with a faint smile.

— "I sent you a letter confessing my feelings, but you never responded. That's why I had Monica bring you here."

My eyes widened in shock. His words made me uneasy.

— "I'm sorry… I didn't mean to ignore your letter, but…" I exhaled slowly before continuing, "I'm not ready for a relationship when I don't even know what my future holds. I don't even remember who I am. How can I think about love right now? But if you'd like, we can be friends."

I paused for a moment before adding in a sharper tone:

— "And don't forget—I'm still under the legal age for something like this."

Ripht chuckled lightly.

— "Hmm, alright. I'll accept the offer of friendship, Miss Aurora."

Then his lips curled into a playful smirk.

— "Can I call you Riri? I think it suits you better."

I popped a piece of cake into my mouth and waved my hand dismissively.

— "Do as you please."

He stared at me in silence. There was something in his eyes—something I couldn't quite understand.

Then, suddenly, he reached out and gently brushed his fingertip against my cheek, wiping away a small trace of cream near my lips.

Time seemed to stop for a moment. His gaze, his fleeting touch, the warmth of his breath so close…

But I quickly pulled away, feeling uneasy.

Ripht lowered his hand as if trying to act indifferent.

— "Sorry, there was cream on your cheek."

Then, in an attempt to change the subject, he added with a sly grin:

— "By the way, you looked like a panda eating without noticing!"

He chuckled softly while I shot him a sharp glare, realizing he was trying to distract me from the moment we had just shared.

But… had he really succeeded?