Bad woman, am I pretending to be bad?

"Eliza, do you usually live here?"

Looking around, even on the windowsill and in the corner, there were one or two new green shoots. Even though the little rabbits and birds in the cage were tender and cute, she still felt a sense of rootlessness and oppression.

"Yes, I come back here after every performance. Whether it's apple curls or small flowers, they can soothe my fatigue from traveling."

Eliza stroked the soft white rabbit in her arms with exceptional gentleness, but for some reason, the little creature trembled incessantly, kicking its legs and struggling to leave her embrace.

"Chirp!"

The nightingale, flapping its wings frequently, flew wildly in its narrow cage, its cries strained and desperate, oblivious to even the broken feathers.

It seems that the rabbit and bird are the apple roll and little flower that Eliza mentioned. But can such a strong reaction really calm a person down and allow them to rest?

"I guess it's because I was rehearsing outside all day and forgot to feed them, which is why the two little guys are so fussy."

Unmoved by the contradictory scene, Eliza still had a slight smile on her lips, but she tightened her grip on Charlotte's hand slightly.

“Hey, I’ve never been able to take good care of them. Before, the doctors wanted my mother and me to spend more time with gentle animals to soothe our inner turmoil.”

No longer hiding her illness as before, the black-haired beauty took the initiative to confess the truth.

After all, she had kept quiet because she was worried that Charlotte would dislike her hysteria. She hoped to get along with her friends like normal people, but since her brother had already spoken for her and revealed most of the truth, there was no point in hiding it anymore.

"Do you need me to help feed them?"

Charlotte gently stroked the rabbit's trembling back with her fingertips, feeling her own heart, which had been pounding violently beneath her skin, gradually calming down. However, the nightingale in the cage was becoming increasingly agitated, and the sound of its sharp beak striking the iron bars was particularly jarring in the quiet bedroom.

“Veterinarians are also within my medical scope.”

She glanced discreetly at the small silver jar beside the dressing table, which contained chopped carrots and grains.

Upon hearing this, Eliza suddenly gripped her wrist tightly, so tightly that it almost wrinkled the lace cuffs.

The action was fleeting, and the black-haired girl had already put on a gentle smile: "These rough jobs shouldn't be done by guests. Dr. Bella, why don't you tell me about your experiences these past few days, so I can empathize with you?"

The mirror reflected the overlapping figures of the two people.

Charlotte noticed that when she approached the birdcage, Eliza's pupils would slightly contract, the arc of her opening and closing seeming to be suppressing some kind of conditioned reflex.

Suddenly, the nightingale let out a dying cry, fluttering against the top of the cage. A blood-stained feather slipped out from the gap and landed on her fingertip.

"I've been busy at the orphanage these past few days, and I haven't had anything interesting to share with you." Charlotte blocked Eliza's view with her body, and secretly used her fingertips to loosen the latch on the cage door.

“They need more space to move around. Long-term confinement will cause stress in animals, just like…” She paused, “just like humans crave fresh air after being in a closed environment for a long time.”

The moment the cage door suddenly sprang open, the birds darted towards the arched window like arrows. Eliza jumped to her feet, her handkerchief falling from her knees, its inlaid pearls bouncing and rolling under the bed on the teak floor.

Charlotte could clearly see her fingernails digging into her palms, leaving crescent-shaped bloody marks on her pale skin.

"Dr. Bella, close the window." The usually gentle-spoken girl suddenly raised her voice. As Charlotte turned around, the nightingale was frantically striking the closed stained glass, its wings casting ghostly shadows on the curtains.

"We can't let them fly away, or my brother will be angry."

Eliza had somehow gotten behind her, her breath warm against the back of her ear, thankfully—

"I'd like to know more about you, whether it's your current situation or your illness."

These words alone calmed the black-haired girl's breathing, and she regained her composure.

"Is this a doctor's duty to be unable to bear seeing such a sight?"

Twisting her skirt, her question was tinged with trepidation.

Charlotte naturally shook her head, stepped forward, and whispered:

"No, this is a friend's concern."

As if she had received a satisfactory answer, Eliza sat back on the bed and spoke again after a long while.

"Actually... lately I often feel like I'm sinking into a dream, hearing many voices and seeing many shadows. There's my mother, my father, and my sister."

“They surround me, constantly telling me something. Every time I wake up, I feel extremely tired, and I can't even lift a cup of tea. In the past, although I had similar symptoms, they were not serious. But recently, they have been happening more and more frequently, which has also affected my performances and daily routine.”

"That was the case during the tour in Tingen, which made you, Dr. Bella, a laughingstock."

The girl's smile remained gentle, but it carried a hint of unspeakable bitterness.

Having a general understanding of the situation, she had previously perceived through her spiritual vision that Eliza was surrounded by the spirits of many dead people. Even though the living person had passed away, the spirits left behind could still affect the individual being possessed.

However, if she hadn't drunk the potion, it would be difficult for an ordinary person to attract and accept so many diverse souls, unless this girl was born with extraordinary characteristics inherited from her parents and even her ancestors. But in the great city of Florence, would the authorities really overlook a famous opera star?

As she pondered, she also imbued her eyes with spirituality, observing the elegant bedroom with insight.

Then Charlotte saw a blurry figure by the cage. She was very small, like she was only six or seven years old, but her thick black hair and delicate face were quite similar to Eliza's.

An undying evil spirit?

Their eyes met briefly, and there was no interaction. Since she didn't sense any malice, she wouldn't make a fuss.

and so--

"How could it be a joke? It is precisely because of this that we met and have become as close as best friends today."

Their fingertips touched again, but a slight glint appeared in Eliza's eyes.

she says:

“My brother doesn’t like me interacting with too many outsiders. Uncle Hall is always strict with me, criticizing my oversights. They consider my lapses in manners a disgrace. They taught me to be elegant, to be self-controlled, and to be warm and friendly, to be a role model, a witness, and a correct example, possessing the true virtues and dignity of aristocracy. But they themselves have never done so.”

The black-haired girl looked at Charlotte again, her words revealing seriousness and a deep-seated longing.

"Dr. Bella, why were you so kind, willing to stand up for me back then and confront a nobleman?"

Of course, it's because I need to take advantage of you, beautiful girl.

He thought so to himself, but the tone of his voice changed.

“Because I see you’re silently pleading for help. Eliza, listen to me, this is not a disgrace, it’s just an illness, a curable mental illness.”

Like shimmering waves rippling across the water, Eliza's joy and tenderness seemed to overflow.

She asked again:

"Doctor, can I trust you? Can you treat me?"

"of course."

Chapter 138 The Favored One

As night deepened, Charlotte, having bid a brief farewell, walked away into the distance under Eliza's watchful gaze.

They were, after all, close friends who had only known each other for a short time. Even if the person in question didn't mind, the fact that she was a noble lady would make it impolite for her to stay at his house.

Eliza perfectly embodied all expectations of a noblewoman. However, whether this jewel was placed atop a hundred layers of velvet or buried beneath a hundred layers of mattresses—the onlookers neither knew nor cared to find out.

Therefore, Charlotte didn't want to put the girl in a difficult position. After all, a lack of self-awareness would not only cause trouble for herself but also for the girl.

As she walked through the long corridor decorated with candlelight and passed by many gatehouses, she happened to catch a glimpse of the maid from before, who was bending over and vigorously wiping the blood-stained bedding in a washbasin.

"Hey, Miss Mingming is so gentle and loves these little creatures so much, how could she have caused so many accidents?"

No sooner had the words left his mouth than a slightly older servant, who was also involved in the affairs, denied it:

"Huh? This was no accident. You just arrived late and didn't see the scene of the lady crushing the rabbit in her hand to pieces when her illness flared up. She has the disease, and Miss Eliza has it too. It's hereditary, a curse."

"It's hysteria. The doctors who were hired all said it was incurable, a punishment from God for their talents, generation after generation, year after year."

She spread out the blankets she was holding, pointed to the mottled bloodstains above, and whispered.

"Look, all these abnormal bloodstains match up perfectly!"

"Then, will Miss... become like Madam?"

"Mia, why are you taking care of all this? We should be grateful if we just do our jobs well."

The short-haired maid closed her eyes, only clutching the vomit-stained sheets even tighter.

“The young lady helped me when I first arrived, and I want to repay that kindness, even if it is insignificant to her.”

"She was so gentle and beautiful. Although she was young, she was mature and composed. She was kind and polite to everyone. She had to take so many courses, including etiquette, literature, history, painting, and vocal music, even though she was busy with performances. Many times, I would think that she might faint from exhaustion."

The petite maid carefully folded the clothes and fabric neatly, as if to cover up an embarrassing flaw.

"Hey, she doesn't faint frequently, nor does she often fall into a trance or delirium. It's just occasional vomiting and dizziness. I really hope that Miss won't end up like Madam, strangling Master with her own hands and accidentally killing her daughter..."

As she got up and picked up the laundry basket, the older maid was about to speak again when she saw Charlotte, who had been standing there for a long time.

She hurriedly covered her mouth, grabbed her colleague, and rushed away through another door.

Although gossiping is the worst thing a servant can do, it did help Charlotte gain a deeper understanding of the Dikbatov family.

Based on her spiritual observations, she was able to determine that Eliza's occasional fainting spells and delirium were likely caused by the spontaneous influx of the deceased's soul into her mind, disturbing her thoughts.

Accepting the soul without restraint is the root of all evil. Logically speaking, every generation of Dikbatov's descendants has this symptom, which is clearly influenced by the inheritance of extraordinary characteristics. Their ancestor should have been a powerful extraordinary being.

Given this premise, how could their descendants be completely unaware of it, fail to attempt to control and restrain it, and even remain indifferent to it, with the church and the authorities?

The phrase "full of doubts" is undoubtedly the most appropriate way to describe it.

It wasn't difficult to dispel the wandering spirit attached to Eliza, but the reasons why those bystanders ignored and condoned it were the basis for her decision.

Should we do it just to satisfy our curiosity or to deepen our relationship?

With a slight smile, Charlotte wrapped her coat tighter and disappeared into the howling night wind.

Of course she will go.

When a beautiful young woman falls into trouble, a good doctor will not, like those high-sounding people, simply sit and watch, treating her as a puppet to be admired.

Charlotte didn't cherish Isabella, a puppet who could be discarded at any time. If she could satisfy her own pleasure, then she was making the best use of her.

Knowing that everyone around her was hiding the truth from her, using silence and applause to numb her senses, how would Eliza, a girl already tormented by the spirits, react? It's truly intriguing and thought-provoking.

Will she become completely hysterical and go mad like the lady described by those maids, or will she bury her emotions deep and live in lies and deception as before?

Whether it's the former or the latter, Isabella, the only person to whom she confides the truth and expresses her concern, can naturally enter her heart and become the only trustworthy and reliable friend.

The mere thought of a famous opera star in the capital being moved by her alone is enough to bring a smile to one's face.

The lack of information necessitates further exploration. The past of the Dickbatov family is worth investigating. If one remains detached, it may be impossible to make further progress. Therefore, she will need to visit this mansion more often in the future, hoping for a long and fruitful relationship with Eliza.

As for their own safety?

Ah, now that she knows the truth, she's likely come under the scrutiny of onlookers and will be unacceptable to them. Revealing the truth is something the former certainly doesn't want to see, but if she remains indifferent, it will be difficult to see who's behind it all and eliminate any potential threats.

Since the decision has been made, let's go all the way and remove the iron bars from Eliza's cage. Being given a second chance at life is an unexpected joy, so why suppress our happiness?

The digestion of the 'monster' potion requires the attention of onlookers and the spread of its fame; otherwise, obtaining the subsequent formula and the advancement ceremony will lack the necessary progress and will be of no use.

As her thoughts drifted, the brown-haired figure slowly faded from the courtyard. Charlotte had undoubtedly figured out the cause and course of events, but she hadn't realized that even stripped of her inherited illness, Eliza was still a unique person.

With her fingertips pressing against the windowpane, leaving red marks on the clear glass, the black-haired girl stood quietly on the balcony, seeing her friend off for a long time.

It was incredibly heartwarming, yet also incredibly morbid.

......

Turning her gaze back, as the salty sea breeze of Tingen brushed against her face, Charlotte truly felt the shift in her identity.

The doctor had already gone to bed, while the frail Miss O'Shaw still had to busy herself with her duties at the arbitration tribunal.

"You should understand that once you take the potion, there is no going back."

In the candlelit cubicle, Zelena silently gazed into the blonde beauty's eyes, offering no pressure, but searching for a resolute expression within them.

After dealing with all the matters, big and small, of the Enlightenment believers, the former finally brought the issue of rewarding merits to the forefront.

“I’ve made up my mind, Ms. Z. I will follow my heart.”

Just as the former desired, Charlotte raised her eyelashes and expressed her determination with unwavering words and actions.

"Alright, that's your choice—"

Bubbles rose from the surface of the liquid, sticky yet not clinging, filling the glass cup, and fell from Ms. Z's fingertips into Charlotte's palm.

"A potion belonging to the 'favored ones'."

Chapter 139 Controlling Fate

Gazing at the churning liquid in the glass, its viscous texture seemed to wriggle on the glass wall like a living thing.

"Ms. Z, after drinking it, there's no need for any rituals or incantations, much less for devout prayers?"

“The sequence of those favored is not similar to those paths. Just as people are born with likes and dislikes, if one is in affinity with extraordinary things, then embarking on this path will naturally be smooth and unobstructed. But if one is not favored, even after years, one can only painfully tread the same path.”