“You took detailed notes on northern irrigation systems," said the steward, handing her a leather-bound ledger.
Katherine blinked at her own handwriting.
“That doesn't mean anything," she murmured.
“Then why did you ask me to bring you to the archives this morning?" the steward asked gently.
She didn't answer.
All morning, Katherine wandered the Keep—not as a prisoner, but as a stranger trying to decipher the footprints of a ghost who wore her name. Guards saluted her. Children called her “Lady K." Even the stablemaster bowed, saying, “The moon shines brighter now that you're awake."
“I was loved here," she muttered.
“Still are," the steward corrected.
---
In the library, dust motes danced across stone shelves. She pulled a cloth-wrapped bundle from a tucked-away niche. Inside: he
