Noctis and Clarisse walked toward Ilya’s room without wasting any time.
Noctis’s plan was simple. He was going to use Ilya to lure Ian Vexwood out of his rabbit hole. The only difficult part was convincing Ilya to cooperate.
They stopped in front of her door. Clarisse knocked three times before gently calling out Ilya’s name.
This time, Ilya opened the door. Her eyes looked tired, as if she had already given up on expecting anything from anyone.
“Looks like this is going to be more difficult than I expected,” Noctis thought before stepping forward.
“Good morning, Miss Ilya. How have you been?”
Ilya glanced at him briefly, then ignored his greeting and turned to Clarisse instead.
“What is it this time, Clarisse?” she asked, clearly uninterested.
“Oh, Miss, you’re not going to believe this. We can arrange a birthday party for you now,” Clarisse replied with a hint of excitement in her voice.
For a brief second, Ilya’s face lit up. Then the light faded.
“Did Dad grant permission for this?”
Clarisse was taken aback.
“N-Not yet. B-But we can ask him to join the party as well…” she said, stuttering slightly.
“Do you really think he’ll agree?” Ilya shot back. “He won’t even come out to see who it is.”
Clarisse lowered her head, unable to find the right words.
“But what if we can get him to step outside his office?” Noctis intervened calmly.
“What do you mean?” Ilya asked, annoyance creeping into her tone.
“You’re Sir Ian’s daughter, right? Then wouldn’t he come if you were the one inviting him?” Noctis said confidently.
Silence filled the hallway.
Then Ilya’s expression twisted. She clenched her teeth and suddenly shouted,
“LIKE HELL HE WILL! He wouldn’t care even if I go die in front of him!”
Before either of them could react, she ran back into her room and slammed the door shut.
Noctis stood there, unable to say a word.
“Damn. Just what did that bastard put her through for her to act like this?” he thought.
He turned toward Clarisse, who still hadn’t raised her head.
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But before he could speak—
A sharp pain struck his head. It felt as if a metal rod had slammed into his skull. His vision began to darken.
And then everything went black.
Time: 6:00 AM
Noctis jolted awake.
He was in his bed.
The headache was gone.
His vision was clear.
But—
“This is… my room? Wasn’t I on the third floor? Did someone carry me here? That’s not possible. No one can enter my room. Not even Silas. Then how…?”
His eyes slowly drifted to the clock.
“6:00 in the morning? Did time loop again? But the day hadn’t even ended yet.”
Nothing made sense.
Without wasting another second, he got ready and stepped outside.
And there it was.
Clarisse arguing with the head chef.
Again.
Questions surged through his mind. To confirm everything, Noctis approached Clarisse once more.
The same dialogue followed.
He convinced the head chef again.
And once more, he walked with Clarisse toward Ilya’s room.
Three knocks.
The same conversation.
The same expressions.
The same anger.
The same door slam.
Noctis waited.
And there it was again.
The same splitting pain.
The same darkness swallowing his vision.
He passed out.
And woke up in his room.
Again.
This time, he was certain.
Time reset whenever he failed to move the mansion’s timeline forward.
The loop wasn’t random.
It was conditional.
But Noctis didn’t waver.
If anything, this only meant he was getting closer to the truth.
He repeated the process.
And failed.
Again.
And again.
Five more times.
Seven failed attempts to convince Ilya.
Sitting at his desk once more, he exhaled slowly.
There was only one conclusion.
Ilya’s room.
He needed to investigate it. Somewhere in there had to be a clue about her relationship with her father.
That was the only way forward.
“But how am I going to make her leave her room?” he muttered.
That was the final obstacle.
His thoughts drifted.
“It’s already been nearly six months. I guess I’ll just have to go with the flow.”
Noctis stood up again. With only a limited number of days left, hesitation wasn’t an option.
For the eighth time, he resolved the dispute between Clarisse and the head chef.
For the eighth time, he walked toward Ilya’s room.
But this time, his objective was different.
Before Clarisse could knock, Noctis stopped her.
“Wait—”
“Hm? What is it? Didn’t you want Miss Ilya’s help?” Clarisse asked, confused.
“I do. But there’s a high chance she’ll refuse. So, I have a request.”
“Oh? What is it?”
“Can you somehow convince Miss Ilya to go for a walk in the garden with you?”
“Huh? Why?”
“I think she’ll feel refreshed. And it’ll be easier to convey our intentions afterward.”
Clarisse paused for a moment.
Then she smiled.
“Ah! I understand. Don’t worry. I’ll try my best.”
She knocked.
Ilya opened the door with the same uninterested expression.
Noctis had already hidden behind the hallway wall to avoid suspicion.
“Miss, how are you feeling?” Clarisse asked gently.
“Not great. If you can’t tell.”
“Is that so? Then how about going for a walk in the garden? It might refresh your mind.”
“I’m not in the mood to go anywhere. Let’s leave it at that.”
“Really? But I heard today is one of the days when the China Roses bloom.”
“What? Really? Why didn’t you say that earlier? LET’S GO! I want to see them bloom!”
Ilya immediately ran toward the garden, excitedly calling out Clarisse’s name.
Noctis blinked.
He hadn’t known this.
But Ilya’s favorite flower was the China Rose. She and her mother had once tried growing them together.
“No wonder she’s her personal maid. She knows her very well,” Noctis muttered.
He stepped toward Ilya’s door.
He stood there for a moment before turning the handle.
“It’s unlocked… Looks like she got too excited and forgot to lock it. That works in my favor.”
A faint smile appeared on his face.
He pushed the door open.
The room was a mess.
Toys scattered everywhere.
Clothes thrown across the floor.
Books left open.
He exhaled slowly.
“I’m going to have a hard time searching through this mess.”
