Chapter 57

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A small girl, around eight years old, was walking through the corridor of what seemed to be a castle.

Her limbs were thin, her nails cracked, and her complexion pale. Despite this, her golden hair was meticulously maintained, and its beauty was strikingly out of place.

No one spoke to her as she wore a white dress. Two priests, who seemed to be guards, followed her, one in front and one behind, ensuring that no one approached her.

The girl's face was mature, but her expression was hollow. Her blue eyes were dull, as if she detested everything.

（...Is this me as a child?）

Charlotte observed the scene from slightly behind the girl. The girl eventually turned her gaze to the outside of the corridor.

It seemed like a casual shift in her gaze. Yet, she suddenly stopped and looked at a figure at the end of the corridor.

『That is...』

Charlotte also looked in the direction the girl was looking.

There, a boy with black hair and red eyes stood.

（Lord Ozvalt...!?）

Though he appeared to be around ten years old, there was no mistaking him. The boy, Ozvalt, wielded an ice sword made of magic and was engaged in a fierce battle with the adults.

His confident steps and excellent movements, combined with his sword skills that were beyond his age and the beautiful way he incorporated magic into his fighting, were mesmerizing. Most of all, his sincere expression captivated the girl.

『...』

The dullness in her eyes was replaced by a childlike sparkle. However, her eyes were gently covered by the hand of a priest.

『Holy Charlotte, we must return to the temple as soon as possible.』

『...Yes, I understand.』

Then the girl started walking, never looking back at the boy, and left the scene without a second glance.

（...So that's how it was.）

Charlotte, who was watching the scene, placed her hand over her left chest. As she did so, the scenery before her eyes changed, and various scenes flowed by.

『You are no better than a slave. Remember well that defying this royal family is not allowed.』

When told this by a silver-haired man, the girl, who had grown to be around ten years old, was suffering greatly in the temple. She was in intense pain all over her body for disobeying an order. However, she did not utter a single cry and was hunched over, desperately trying to remember someone.

Another time, the girl, who had grown to be around twelve years old, was quietly bowing before the throne.

『Do not misuse your power. Even you have limited divine power, and what good does it do to bestow it on ordinary citizens?』

Though she appeared to be listening stoically, she was on the verge of tears. However, she bit down on her lip to prevent anyone from noticing and endured the pain.

『...If I am not allowed to save people as I wish,』

The slightly older girl stood before a mirror and spoke to herself.

『At least I will become an ugly woman. A holy woman who is not respected, praised, or revered by anyone. ...Isn't it easy to act as the worst woman possible?』

She touched the mirror with her white hand.

『Because it is the truth. ...I am a wicked woman who has power but cannot save anyone.』

She spoke slowly, as if trying to convince herself. Then she whispered:

『—Unlike "Lord Ozvalt."』

（...Indeed. Even the me before I lost my memory...）

As Charlotte felt this, the images became more fragmented.

The scene before her was a battlefield, with many people reaching out to the girl.

However, she was ordered to heal the royal family and nobles primarily. Even if there were no important figures injured, she was commanded to conserve her power for emergencies and was not allowed to provide even minor treatments. Without protecting the common soldiers, defense and offense would be meaningless.

Seeking glory on the battlefield, the princes and nobles all chose to fight. Yet, they did not venture into dangerous areas. They would make a fuss at the slightest injury and call out to the girl loudly. Such scenes flowed around Charlotte.

The girl always looked distressed. However, she continued to smile brightly to hide her pain and to maintain the pretense of being a wicked woman.

（...I, who am not good at lying, was able to act as a "wicked woman" perfectly at social gatherings because my body remembered how to do it.）

What the former self could do, the memory-loss Charlotte could also do. From slight postures to actions, even the creation of amulets.

And the performance of the wicked holy woman, which the former self had repeatedly acted out, had become ingrained in her body.

（...The scenes I am seeing now are very similar to those shown in the diary. However,）

The girl walked through the battlefield, and injured people reached out to her. But there was a crucial difference. In the scenes Charlotte was seeing now, the former self was crying.

（The scenes where the former me was smiling were lies. ...In reality, she was crying...）

The former Charlotte had shown false memories to the memory-loss Charlotte to prove that she was truly a wicked woman even after losing her memory. When watching the diary scenes, there was a part that felt detached, which might have been due to this.

Eventually, the former Charlotte spotted a person at the front of the battlefield.

She stopped to avoid meeting him. Ozvalt, surrounded by people he needed to protect, was holding their hands and trying his best to provide first aid.

Seeing Ozvalt, the former Charlotte whispered:

『...I am his enemy.』

She remembered the word "enemy" written on the first page of the diary.

Just listening to this monologue made Charlotte feel uncomfortable.

The sensation of watching the diary scenes was entirely different. She understood, painfully, that this was the real scenery she had experienced.

The scene changed again. This time, it was not a battlefield but a beautiful temple.

Charlotte received an order from the royal family, which she found hard to believe.

—To become the wife of Ozvalt Ralph Langheim and agree to the sealing of her divine power.

The king had commanded Charlotte to do so.

『...There is no way I should become his wife.』

The former Charlotte, alone in a room, slumped and said this.

『I couldn't save anyone back then...!! The people he tried to protect, the people he wanted to help. And yet, I failed...!!』

She clenched her hands tightly.

『As a holy woman, I couldn't save a single person. ...At least, if I could erase this memory, "that method" should be usable...』

The second page of the diary read, "Erase it."

『Forget everything. Use the method that becomes available when I forget, to save him...』

The next page of the diary indeed read, "Save him."

What she wanted to save was not herself. She wanted to save Ozvalt from her, from this notorious wicked woman.

『...Lord Ozvalt...』

The words she spoke were the name she had called in her heart during difficult times since childhood.

And with that, Charlotte was certain of everything.

（...I have been in love with Lord Ozvalt since before I lost my memory.）

She realized this anew.

（It wasn't love at first sight when I woke up after losing my memory.）

Charlotte gently looked at her former self.

（...Since childhood, I have admired Lord Ozvalt, ever since I saw him earnestly wielding a sword.）

She had not recovered this memory.

But the scenes shown to her here felt undeniably like her past.

（Even if I lost my memory,）

Charlotte gently touched the tears on the face of her former self before her.

（...I could never forget my love for Lord Ozvalt...）