Chapter 6.The secret he knew

My father’s question followed me as I walked behind him toward his study. “If you have remembered anything from your previous life, you need to tell me now.” I couldn't stop thinking about the way he had said it. He didn't sound surprised by the idea that I could remember another life. Instead, there was something almost fearful in his voice, as though he already knew that there was more to my awakening than I had told anyone.

I still didn't know how much I could trust him. After everything Evelina had told me, after discovering that my father had once been investigated for his connection to the Order of the Veiled Moon, I couldn't simply assume that he was innocent. At the same time, he was the only person who seemed to know something about what was happening to me.

When we entered his study, he closed the door and locked it. He walked to an old cabinet near the window and opened a hidden compartment. From inside, he took out a small leather-bound book and placed it carefully on the desk.

“I found this twelve years ago,” he said.

I looked at the worn cover. “What is it?”

“A record connected to the Order.”

That immediately caught my attention.

I opened the book and began turning through the pages. Most of them were filled with strange symbols, unfamiliar names, and passages that had been deliberately scratched out. Then I found a sentence that made me stop.

Certain souls return when fate has been disturbed.

I read it again, trying to understand what I was looking at.

“What does this mean?”

My father remained quiet for a moment before answering. “The Order believed that certain souls could return when their fate was interrupted. They called such people keys.”

A cold feeling settled inside me as I remembered the message from the royal chamber.

The first key has awakened.

“Am I one of these keys?” I asked.

My father looked at me for a long moment before nodding. “They believe you are.”

“Why?”

“Because your fate has changed.”

I frowned. “That doesn't explain anything.”

“It doesn't,” he admitted. “Because there are still things I don't understand.”

His answer surprised me. I had thought my father knew far more than he was willing to tell me, but perhaps even he was trying to piece together the truth.

“What does the Order want from me?”

“They believe you carry something they need.”

I looked at him. “What do I carry?”

Before he could answer, the candle beside us went out.

The study fell into darkness, and a faint sound came from the corridor outside. My father reached for his sword and moved slightly in front of me.

“Stay behind me.”

We waited in silence. Footsteps approached the door, slow and careful, until a voice whispered from the other side.

“She remembers.”

The door suddenly shook under a heavy impact.

My father drew his sword.

Another blow struck the door, but before it could happen again, everything became quiet. He waited for several seconds before opening it carefully.

The corridor was empty.

There was no sign of whoever had been outside, but a black envelope lay on the floor.

My father picked it up. The silver crescent seal on the front was unmistakable.

“The Order,” he said.

He opened the envelope and handed the letter to me.

You were never meant to survive this life.

And your father was never meant to tell you the truth.

I stared at the words, feeling a growing uneasiness. Whoever had left the message had been close enough to hear our conversation, which meant someone inside the estate could be watching us.

Then I noticed another symbol beneath the message.

It wasn't the mark of the Order.

“Do you know this?” I asked.

My father studied it, and the expression on his face changed.

“No.”

“You recognize it.”

He looked at me. “This isn't the Order's mark.”

“Then whose is it?”

For a moment, he said nothing.

Finally, he answered, “The person who created the story.”

I stared at him, confused. “What story?”

But before he could explain, the room disappeared.

I found myself standing in a strange place, facing a woman seated beside a tall window. Her long silver hair fell over her shoulders, and when she turned toward me, I saw violet eyes staring back at me.

My eyes.

She looked exactly like me.

“If you're seeing this,” she said, “then they have failed to kill you again.”

The words left me confused. Again? How many times had someone tried to kill her?

I wanted to ask who she was, but before I could speak, the vision began to fade.

Her voice became softer.

“You cannot trust everyone who claims to be protecting you.”

Then she gave me the warning that would stay with me long after the vision disappeared.

“Whatever you do, don't trust Adrian.”

I opened my eyes and found myself back in my father's study. He was standing beside me, calling my name, but my mind was still trapped in what I had just seen.

The woman had my face. She had my eyes, and somehow she knew that someone had tried to kill me before.

But why had she warned me about Adrian?

Until now, I had believed the crown prince might be the only person capable of helping me uncover the truth. He had shown me the dagger, told me about the Order, and given me a chance to defend myself instead of immediately believing I was guilty.

Now I wasn't sure what to believe.

I looked at my father. “Who is Adrian really?”

He didn't answer.

His silence told me more than words could have.

There was something about the crown prince that my father knew, something important enough that he had kept it hidden from me.

And as I stood there, I realized that surviving this new life might be much harder th

an I had imagined.

Because if the woman in my vision was telling the truth, then Adrian Blackthorne might not be the person I thought he was.