With my mind momentarily settled on that painful truth, a new thought suddenly sparks into my mind.
"Wait... I can look into my old world just like that mysterious voice promised me. But can I use this power to see things in this world, too?"
Curiosity flares up in my chest. "If I can view distant places, can I peer into other parts of this grand Valerius estate?"
"Show me what Eleanor's father is doing right now," I command the system silently.
I wait, expecting the screen to shift. But nothing happens. The display continues showing the quiet, the unfamiliar room where my mother was working just as it was.
Frowning slightly, I try a more direct approach. "Show me Duke Valerius."
Still, nothing changes. The screen remains completely frozen on the image of my mother. No matter how much I order the interface, it refuses to swap feeds or display anything happening locally.
A realization slowly dawns on me. Ah... I see. It can't show me scenes from this world. It's only connected to my original world and it's a bridge back home, not a universal surveillance tool for this dimension.
A hint of disappointment flickers through me. I actually thought I could spy on people here, too. If I had that kind of power, it would be incredible. Even if I eventually left the Valerius family, I could make a massive fortune predicting things or gathering information. It would have given me endless potential.
I let out a soft sigh, shaking my head at my own greediness. "Well, it can't be helped. If this is its limit, then so be it. Perhaps when I next meet that mysterious divine being, I can ask if she can grant me an extra ability like that. Though, since we already made our agreement and I signed her terms, she might say no. Still, it wouldn't hurt to try to convince her."
Having a solid backup plan is essential, especially here. I don't know when the Valerius family might turn on me or give me the cold shoulder again. I need to secure my own future as Eleanor just in case things go south.
"Alright, that's enough for now," I tell the screen mentally. "Close."
With a soft ripple, the floating display vanishes into thin air, plunging the room back into its normal, quiet darkness. I lie back against the plush pillows, letting out a long breath as I take in the familiar furnishings of my bedroom.
After a few moments of quiet reflection, my eyes drift toward the side table sitting right beside my bed, the very same one where the maid had placed the bowl of porridge earlier. Resting neatly beside the empty dish is something I hadn't noticed before: a small, folded piece of paper.
Curiosity piqued, I shift my weight, leaning over the edge of the mattress and stretching my arm out as far as it will go. My fingers brush against the crisp edge of the paper, and with a quick pull, I grab it.
I pull back, sitting upright as I see the sheet carefully.
"Oh? A letter?"
My eyes scan the neat handwriting as I realize with a jolt who it's from. It's a message from Arthur. My heart skips a beat as I wonder what he could possibly have to say. Let's see what is inside.
I unfold the crisp sheet of paper, my eyes scanning Arthur's neat, familiar handwriting. The message is short and simple, yet every word carries a quiet weight:
Eleanor,
You have been asleep and unwell for days now. I have tried visiting you as often as I could, but my own duties and responsibilities have unfortunately kept me from coming every single day. I am writing this letter in the hope that you will read it as soon as you open your eyes, and that you will recover swiftly.
When you see this, please send me a reply. I have been deeply worried for you.
Get well soon, my dear Eleanor.
Yours, Arthur
A soft, genuine warmth spreads through my chest as I finish reading. Though the letter is brief, I can clearly sense the sincere worry behind his words. It's evident that his concern for me is entirely genuine.
I should write a reply right away, I think to myself, folding the paper back up. Otherwise, he'll keep fretting over my condition.
I immediately glance around the bedside table, searching for any spare parchment or a writing quill, but find nothing. Frowning, I scan the rest of the nightstand and the surrounding area. There's nothing here.
I thought that the maids must have left my writing supplies at my desk, or perhaps they haven't been brought up yet.
Deciding not to bother ringing for Lily, especially since I just ordered her to go rest. So I figure I can retrieve what I need myself. The maids are likely busy with evening chores downstairs anyway.
Carefully, I swing my legs over the side of the mattress and push myself upward. My feet touch the polished hardwood floor, but the moment I try to put my weight on them, a sharp wave of pins and needles shoots up my calves. My muscles are completely unresponsive, heavy and numb from eight solid days of being trapped in a coma.
Before I can even catch my balance, my knees buckle beneath me.
Thump!
I tumble sideways, hitting the floor with a dull thud, letting out a sharp gasp of surprise: "Ah!"
Almost instantly, the heavy silence of the hallway is shattered. Rapid footsteps echo from outside my door, and a second later, the bedroom doors fly open. Lily and another maid burst into the room, their eyes wide with panic as they rush toward me.
"My Lady! What happened?!" Lily cries out, dropping to her knees beside me.