In Place of Losing My Memory, I Remembered That I Was the Fiancée of the Capture Target - Chapter 1
- In Place of Losing My Memory, I Remembered That I Was the Fiancée of the Capture Target
- Chapter 1 - The Young Lady Loses Her Memory
As if called by the sound of birds through the window, I slowly awaken. I open my eyes and see… the white ceiling that I saw yesterday, although I am not used to seeing it. Its edges are decorated with ornate carvings, and the pale green walls are painted with detailed decorations. The furniture is all white and elegant, with gold decorations that reflect the morning light.
This spacious room seems to be my room.
I say “seems” because I have no memory of my room.
Three days ago, I woke up in this room and had lost my memory.
My family and the maids – I was surprised that such a person as a maid was taking care of me – told me that I had been unconscious for five days with a very high fever. The doctors thought that the fever must have caused me to lose my memory. Although I regained consciousness, my body was still warm and I was unable to get up without any strength. Because of that, I’ve been mostly bedridden for the past three days.
I am being taken care of by a group of maids who claim to be my ladies in waiting, even though…I feel embarrassed.
But just like that, I have been taken care of by them every day.
That is my name, and I am the daughter of a nobleman named Count Bertini.
A count is somewhere in the middle in terms of aristocratic status, but the Bertini family has a long history and a large territory, and the current queen is my father’s sister, in other words, my aunt. As the daughter of such a wealthy noble family, it was only natural that I should be taken care of by the maids, but… I couldn’t get used to it, and I was embarrassed. It is strange to feel “unfamiliar” when I have no memory of it, but….
No…the truth is, I do have memories.
But they are not of Alexia Bertini.
I have a memory, but that memory is also hazy, and when I try to trace it back, my head feels foggy and feverish, as if it were burning.
But I am sure…I had another name, not Alexia, and I lived in a different, smaller room than this one….
Am I really Alexia?
I also feel uncomfortable with my dark golden hair and blue eyes in the mirror.
My hair and eyes should be darker.
Even the face should not be this clear-cut…
As I gazed blankly at the ceiling, I heard the door to the room open softly. I looked over and saw two maids enter.
They were the two ladies-in-waiting.
“Are you awake?” The maids came near to the bedside.
“How are you feeling?”
“Would you like to get dressed?”
“Yes, I would like to get dressed.”
When I answered that, the maid lowered her eyebrows a little sadly. —I was not sure if I was being polite to her or not, but she seemed to think it was strange. I’m not sure if I’m being polite, but I’m asking someone to help me wipe my body, change my clothes, and do other things that I’m embarrassed to talk about, so it’s only natural that I should be polite. It seems that there is a discrepancy between what I feel in my heart and the current situation.
“What would you like to eat?”
“Can I have just soup?”
“Yes, of course.”
After I finished dressing, I sat up on the cushions placed on the bed, and one of the ladies in waiting left the room to get some food. The kitchen seemed to be far away, as it was yesterday, and the lady in waiting would not be back for a while.
—I have not left this room yet, but I guessed that the house must be a big one since the owner is a wealthy aristocrat.
“Would you like a cup of tea?”, the remaining lady in waiting brought a tea wagon.
I could feel the warmth of the steam and smell the slight sweetness of the tea.
“It smells so good…”
“It’s the rose tea that you like, Miss.”
I seem to remember the elegant aroma of this tea, but… but I don’t think I liked drinking this tea after all.
What I liked… was.. a more bitter… black liquid.
I was still having difficulty putting strength into my arms, and had just finished a cup of tea with the help of the lady in waiting when there was a knock at the door.
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