"Your Highness, I'm coming in."
The bedroom door opened slowly with a soft creak of its hinges. Golden morning light slipped through the gap in the thick dark purple curtains, flooding the spacious room with its noble furnishings—exquisitely carved wooden desk, large wardrobe with glass doors, and a grand bed lined with white silk. Fresh air from outside flowed in along with the scent of roses from the backyard garden.
Three days had passed since the princess had awakened from the long sleep that had nearly claimed her life.
A middle-aged woman stepped inside with practiced, graceful movements. Her dress was simple light blue, yet clean and neat down to every stitch—if looked at closely, a small embroidered Alaric family crest adorned her shoulder, indicating she was no ordinary maid.
The little princess sat on the bed, her body still small and thin after the severe illness. She stared at the entering woman with deep blue eyes that held a shadow of profound confusion. Her long blonde hair was scattered messily across the pillow, yet it did nothing to diminish the sense of calm radiating from her.
"…Who are you?"
Her voice was soft but clear, without any of the clumsiness typical of a small child. Each word was enunciated precisely, as if carefully considered.
The maid fell silent for a moment, her hands clasped lightly at her chest, fingers gripping the hem of her dress. Then she smiled gently, her expression filled with affection and respect.
"Your Highness has forgotten, I see?" She bowed her head slightly—her demeanor showing she had long been accustomed to serving nobility.
"I am Lina. A servant of your family—or more precisely, your personal attendant, caring for you since the day you were born."
The princess stared at her for a long moment, not moving an inch. Her gaze was sharp and deep, as if scanning every detail of Lina's face—from the fine lines around her eyes to the strands of gray starting to show at her temples.
It was not the gaze of a small child who had just woken up—but rather that of someone trying to make sense of the foreign world before them, attempting to piece together information that held no place in their memory.
She did not know who she was. She did not know where she was.
She did not know who the people around her were.
Yet one thing was clear: none of this was a dream. Every touch of fabric on her skin, every scent in the air, every sound she heard—all were far too real to be mere fantasy.
Noticing the confusion in the princess's eyes, Lina moved closer with small, careful steps. She then knelt beside the bed so her face would be level with the little one's gaze, avoiding a position that might feel imposing.
"It is alright if Your Highness feels confused," she said in a voice as soft as a lullaby, as if soothing a crying infant.
"Many physicians have said that after a serious illness that brings one close to death, memories can be unsettled. Some things may be forgotten, and that is perfectly normal."
It was a reasonable explanation.
And it was the explanation everyone around her would believe. No one would suspect that the princess's confusion was not due to memory loss from illness—but because the consciousness residing in this body came from an entirely different world.
The little princess nodded slowly, adjusting her position against the pillows. She understood that this explanation would be her foundation for facing everyone in this world. Then she asked in a tone that was still slightly hesitant but clear:
"…Who am I?"
Lina was slightly surprised—though she had prepared for this question, the way the princess asked it made her feel as if she were speaking to an adult. Yet she showed no sign of panic, maintaining her calm expression.
"You are Catherine von Alaric," she replied respectfully, bowing her body slightly as a sign of deference.
"The third princess of the noble Alaric family. You are just two years old, yet you have already endured hardships far beyond your age."
The name echoed through the quiet bedroom air.
Catherine von Alaric.
It sounded foreign to her ears, yet she could feel how the name began to merge with this small body—as if it had belonged to her for a long time.
Lina continued her explanation, her voice steady and clear as if reciting something she had memorized long ago:
"The Alaric family rules over the Northern March territory. It lies far from the capital of the Audoria Kingdom, in the northern borderlands that border directly with the Dark Forest and the Glacier Mountains."
Northern March.
The words carried a heavy weight. From what she could sense of the body's still-blurred memories, this region was known as a harsh place—cold for nearly the entire year, difficult to farm, and filled with dangerous paths.
A dangerous land.
"Our territory is known to have the highest rate of monster attacks in the entire kingdom," Lina continued with a tone full of pride.
"That is why the Alaric family is held in high regard by both the king and the people. We stand as the kingdom's first line of defense—holding back monster attacks from the forests and mountains before they can reach the safer lands to the south."
That respect did not come from noble title alone, but from the blood and sacrifice the Alaric family had given over centuries. Many family members had fallen in battle against monsters that sought to attack and destroy settlements of ordinary people.
"Your father, Marquis Morcant von Alaric, is the ruler of this territory," Lina said, her eyes showing deep respect as she mentioned the marquis's name.
"He personally leads the troops whenever large-scale monster attacks occur. His combat skills and firm leadership have earned him the respect of all soldiers and people in the Northern March."
Marquis.
It was no ordinary noble title—but a rank indicating her father was the military governor of the borderlands with great authority. He bore the responsibility of protecting thousands of lives living in the territory.
"Because danger can come at any time—even in the quietest of nights—" Lina bowed her head slightly, as if apologizing for having to speak of something that might
worry the princess,
"—he rarely leaves this territory. The safety of the people always comes first, even above his own personal or family needs."
The princess listened in silence, each word Lina spoke calmly processed by her sharp mind. The information was heavy—far too heavy for the mind of a two-year-old child. Yet she accepted it all with composure, as if already accustomed to great responsibility.
"And your mother," Lina continued in a softer voice, even slightly trembling with emotion,
"Is Lady Elowen Ravenshade, from the noble Ravenshade family of the southern territories."
The name was spoken with deep respect and affection. The Ravenshade family was known for producing many talented mages, who had served the kingdom in various ways for centuries.
"She is known as a gentle woman who upholds noble customs, yet possesses great strength of will. While Your Highness was ill, she barely left your side—even summoning physicians from various regions, including some healing mages from the capital who had to travel for a full week to reach us."
Lina smiled faintly, though her eyes held deep relief. A week ago, everyone had nearly given up hope for the princess's recovery.
"For the Alaric family, your recovery is considered a miracle worthy of gratitude. Even the Marquis himself—who is usually stern and rarely shows emotion—wept when he learned you had opened your eyes."
The little princess—Catherine—lowered her head, staring at her own small, delicate hands. Her skin was still slightly pale from the severe illness, but had already begun to show a healthy tone. She could feel the lingering traces of pain that still enveloped this body, a reminder that it had indeed been at death's door.
And this world… was clearly not her old one. In the world she remembered, there were no monsters attacking humans, no noble families ruling territories, and no such thing as magic that could be seen with one's own eyes.
Lina then stood slowly and added something of utmost importance—something that would form the foundation of the princess's life in this world.
The princess lifted her head, her eyes full of curiosity.
"In this world," Lina continued in a more serious tone, standing straight beside the bed,
"Every person is born with a certain potential determined from birth. This is a gift or destiny bestowed by the cosmos or the gods—depending on one's beliefs."
Not everyone could use magic. Some only possessed ordinary abilities to work as farmers, merchants, or common laborers. Not all abilities were equal—some had the talent to become great mages, others had extraordinary physical strength to become formidable knights.
Some were born as mages with the ability to control natural elements—fire, water, earth, or air.
Some were knights with speed and strength beyond ordinary humans.
There were also those with strange and unique talents—rare, even unrecorded in the kingdom's history. Some could communicate with animals, some could see the future to a limited extent, and others had the ability to heal wounds with just a touch.
"What is my ability?" the princess asked in a simple yet determined voice. She felt something hidden within her—a power waiting to awaken.
Lina smiled with a slightly stiff expression, as if unsure how to answer.
"…That is not yet known, Your Highness."
Because to truly know a person's abilities, time and the right age were required. Everyone in the kingdom knew that age marked the point when hidden potential would begin to emerge naturally.
"…At age five," Lina continued gently. "At that time, every child will undergo a ceremony called the 'Potential Awakening'. This ceremony will reveal what abilities each child possesses—whether as a mage, knight, or some other possible talent."
Catherine nodded slowly, understanding she still had three years to prepare. Three years might seem long to a small child, but for her with an adult consciousness, the time was not that great. She needed to learn as much as possible about this world before the time came—about magic, about monsters, about how to survive in a harsh land like the Northern March.
Outside the bedroom window, a gentle spring breeze began to blow, bringing word that the long winter of the Northern March would finally come to an end.