Lydia's violet eyes flickered open, catching the morning light filtering through the large bay window of her study. The room, filled with towering bookshelves and scattered papers, stood testament to her relentless pursuit of knowledge. She had fallen asleep again at her mahogany desk, a mountain of manuscripts serving as her pillow. The faint scent of ink and parchment lingered in the air, mingling with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee.
A soft knock on the door broke the silence. Ryan, her ever-concerned older brother, entered the room, a steaming cup of coffee in hand. "Brother, you didn't have to bring me coffee," Lydia said, a grateful smile playing on her lips as she accepted the cup.
Ryan's eyes, dark and earnest, studied her face intently. "But ever since you got back from the academy, you've been obsessing over this research. You aren't even taking care of yourself. Tell me, when was the last time you slept on your bed or left the house?" he asked, his voice tinged with worry.
Lydia took a sip of the coffee, savoring its warmth. She appreciated Ryan's concern; it was a rare solace in her increasingly isolated world. The research she was engrossed in was not just a scientific endeavor—it was a lifeline. Lydia had discovered that she was likely suffering from sickle cell anemia. After ruling out other life-threatening conditions, her hypothesis centered on her genotype. Her determination to find a cure was not just academic; it was deeply personal. She feared that without significant progress, her time would be cut short.
Despite Ryan's presence, Lydia's thoughts strayed to the weight on her shoulders. The stakes were high—not only for her health but also for her future. She had a mission to win the favor of Grand Duke Xerxes, a daunting task with only seven years left to accomplish it. Failure would mean certain death. The pressure was immense, and the clock was ticking.
"Ha," Lydia sighed, lost in her thoughts.
"What's wrong?" Ryan's voice pulled her back to the present.
"It's nothing, brother. Thank you for the coffee," Lydia replied, masking her anxiety with a polite smile.
Ryan glanced around the cluttered room, his concern deepening. "Lydia, you can't go on like this. You need rest, proper meals, fresh air. This obsession—it's not healthy."
Lydia nodded absently, her mind already drifting back to her research. The room around them seemed to close in, the shelves laden with books on genetics, medicine, and obscure scientific theories.
The conversation with Ryan had done little to ease her mind.
Ryan sighed deeply, "Just promise me you'll take care of yourself, Lydia. I don't want to lose you."
Lydia's heart ached at the sincerity in his voice. She reached out, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. "I promise, Ryan. I'll try to take better care of myself."
Her brother nodded, though his worry remained palpable.
Lydia sighed deeply, her thoughts momentarily drifting away from the research spread out before her. Ryan, ever so caring and protective, had given up the chance to attend the prestigious academy to stay behind and manage the estate, all for her sake. His dedication was unwavering, his presence a constant comfort in her tumultuous life.
"Ha," she sighed again, a mixture of gratitude and frustration in her voice. Ryan's sacrifice weighed heavily on her heart. He had chosen to remain at home, learning the intricacies of estate management, to ensure she never felt abandoned by the world. His gentle touch as he stroked her hair only amplified her guilt.
"You need rest," Ryan insisted, his tone firm yet loving. "By the time I get back from town and find out you aren't resting, there is going to be a severe punishment," he threatened playfully, though the underlying concern was evident.
"Yes, brother," Lydia answered obediently, her eyes softening as she looked up at him. Despite her debut in high society, she had never made much of an appearance. Her reclusive nature and the demands of her research had kept her confined to the estate.
Amelia, her childhood friend, still visited occasionally to check on her. The Baron, their father, remained overprotective, wishing his daughter could avoid the complications of marriage altogether. His love was fierce and all-encompassing, a stark contrast to the indifferent world outside their estate.
Lydia's thoughts wandered to her past life, where she had experienced love and loss in equal measure. The memory of her child brought a pang of sorrow and regret. In her past life, she had borne a child amidst her suffering, a beacon of hope in a dark world. She had prayed fervently, torn between wanting to bring the child into the world and fearing that it might inherit her pain.
Her love for her child had been both selfish and selfless. She had hoped to show the child a better life, to shield it from the torment she had endured. Yet, in her heart, she had also prayed that the child might be spared from being born into such a cruel reality.
As Ryan left the room, Lydia's lips curved into a smile, a rare expression of genuine happiness. His presence, his unwavering support, reminded her that despite everything, she still had reasons to find joy.
"Have a nice day, brother," she called after him, her voice carrying a warmth that had been absent for so long.
"And you too, Lia," he replied with a wide smile, his own worries momentarily alleviated by her visible happiness.
Once Ryan was gone, Lydia turned her gaze to the sky outside the large bay window. The sun was at its peak, casting a golden glow over the landscape. "For you, brother, and for Father, I'll have to set my plan in motion," she murmured, her resolve hardening as she stared at the bright afternoon sky.
The clarity of the day seemed to echo her thoughts, each cloudless moment a reminder of the precious time slipping away. "Hold out a bit longer," she whispered to herself, her voice barely audible amidst the quiet of the study.
Lydia stood up abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor. The resolve in her eyes was unmistakable as she slammed her hand on the table, causing the scattered papers to flutter. "We are going out. Prepare a carriage," she instructed a nearby maid, her voice commanding and resolute.
The maid, startled by Lydia's sudden decisiveness, hurried to carry out her orders.