Miranda gently tossed her gloves on the dresser, tilted her head in front of the mirror, and removed one of the pearl stud earrings. She had changed her ostentatious skirt, leaving only a pure white close-fitting petticoat that exposed her muscular calves and arms.

The room was quiet, and no one in the Grasse family dared to disturb her, not even the nominal heir to the title. The eldest daughter of her brother Arthur Glass had just turned fourteen the other day. At the birthday party, Miranda handed over the baroness's blessings and gifts. The pale face of her brother and sister-in-law, she still can't help but think about it.

She understood why they were so afraid, just as a wolf understood the mind of a sheep. And she doesn't care either, like a wolf to a flock of sheep that don't have a good appetite.

Almost all handmaidens were of noble birth, but in order to ensure their loyalty, when they were converted, candidates had to sacrifice enough of themselves to the baroness to break with their former status. Nevrita will drain the blood of her victims and candidates, feeding her essence to the new Handmaiden. And in return, they will receive immortal flesh and extraordinary powers.

Of course, the Baroness didn't really care about what they were giving, she just wanted to see their determination and see if they were determined to break through the false obstacle of reality.

Mortals are just flowers in their dreams, and life and death have nothing to worry about. And the one chosen by the Baroness, as long as her blood flows in her veins, can share the ability to spy on the true reality of the dream.

Miranda chose her mother, and from that day on, the Count of Glasse was shut up, drinking the increasingly bitter decoction in his gloomy bedroom. But she thinks it's worth it. At the sight of Casas sunk in the middle of the earth, the houses buried by the wind and sand, and the bones of everyone she met, she lost her most basic awe.

They can die in one dream, or they can be resurrected in the next. Morality, laws, and so on could not compare to the movement of the lady's mind. She saw the ill-intentioned mutineers erased from existence itself, the armies of the neighbors dissolved into the air, and the Baroness was still here, forever and ever. She is the beginning, she is the summary, she is the master of dreams.

The sound of the wind blowing open the window interrupted Miranda's thoughts. She raised her eyes and saw the sky outside the window with lightning and thunder, and the rain seeped into the house obliquely, and soon a puddle of water had accumulated.

She sighed and got up to close the window. Although her flesh has been cold and heatless, there is still an unbearable coldness when she steps on the oak floor with her bare feet.

For the inhabitants of the desert, this kind of continuous wind and rain is too unusual. It stands to reason that it should have been dawn, but the dark clouds obscured the scorching sunlight, and only lightning tore through the sky from time to time, illuminating a vast white.

It was like a mythical Judgment Day, she thought nonchalantly.

The rain had begun to fall a few days earlier, just in time for Colfaron's convoy to enter the city. Perhaps it was the occasional disturbance of the climate, but it would not be long before the long scorching summer that Casas was accustomed to returned.

Luo Jia, the name burst into her mind out of nowhere. The name means the one who calls the rain. She thought. What an interesting coincidence.

The child that the baroness inexplicably valued, Miranda could feel the power in him, but he was still too immature. She wasn't surprised about the upcoming wedding. A wedding, a murder, a ceremony, the difference between these things is not as significant as one might think. Rules, customs, and words all have power, and the Baroness has always been adept at exploiting them.

Of course, she didn't really care what the baroness would get, she only cared that her family would run the wedding herself, which meant that she was especially valued among the many handmaidens. In Casas, the Baroness is the foundation of all power, honor and existence.

Miranda closed the binder and plugged it in, keeping the rain and thunder out of the warm room. Behind her, the sound of a bell suddenly sounded, shattering the comfortable tranquility.

Miranda jerked around, and a silver-haired man she had never seen before sat on a bench, playing an ancient instrument from the shelves—a rare item purchased from Valadesh, said to be a treasure unearthed from ancient ruins. His hands jumped on the black and white keys, and his eyes were half-closed and he was softly humming a song of the ancient arcane.

"This is a day to weep,

The dead will rise from the dust,

The sinner shall be sentenced to ......"

Miranda tensed her muscles, and she took a slow step back, her fingers moving under her skirt. There she tied a dagger and smeared it with the poison of the bloody sand snake that sealed its throat.

The stranger opened his eyes, and his bright purple eyes lit up the room, fixed on Miranda. At that moment, she found herself like a bird stared at by a poisonous snake, unable to move in fear.

It was something outside their world and definition, and she couldn't imagine what kind of sand would give birth to such giants. But...... Shouldn't everything belong to the lady's dreams? How did he break in?

The Baroness is the master of all dreams. As her subordinate, Miranda also shares the power to resist fate. But now, she heard the sound of fate breaking, and the doom and change she had escaped by her ascension had finally broken through the thin walls and rolled towards her.

-----------------

Arthur Glass woke up from a restless dream. He wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, habitually looked at his wife by the pillow - he only saw the empty futon, and then remembered that his wife had gone to sleep with her daughter today.

Their only daughter has been in a nightmare these days, and many visits to the doctor still don't work. Arthur is well aware that the root cause of his daughter's illness lies in reality, but there is nothing he can do about it.

He dreamed of a broken song, but when he woke up, the faint sound of music still passed through the walls, drifting into his ears, faintly like an illusion.

He sighed, got up, picked up a three-pronged candlestick, and opened the door barefoot. He hesitated, but instead of going to his wife's and daughter's bedroom, he walked down the stairs in the direction from which the music came. There was a strange feeling in the air, as if something timeless had changed, but he couldn't say exactly what it was.

The voice grew clearer, and Arthur heard his heart pounding in his chest. Was it a whim on the whim of her sister, or was the lady finally determined to accept another maid from the House of Grass?

He slowly descended the spiraling staircase, the crimson carpet stretching out into the distance like the throat of some kind of monster. Outside the window, the rain was loud, and a thunderbolt made him shrink his neck.

"But O God! Forgiveness. ”

Sweet singing came to his ears. Arthur opened his mouth and stared blankly at the silver-haired man on the piano bench playing and singing leisurely - he saw each other clearly and unmistakably, but his sanity did not believe that these perfect lines made up a person.

At the stranger's feet, his sister fell face down to the ground, the dark liquid expanding beneath her, and the white petticoat was almost dyed red. Her long, silky flaxen hair was draped around her neck, making her complexion even paler.

Arthur stumbled down the stairs, almost falling in front of his sister. He grabbed Miranda's shoulders with a trembling hand and turned her over. When the familiar face met his eyes, his head became even more dizzy.

"Lord! Be merciful to Jesus!

Give them rest. Amen. ”

Lingering echoes through the room. Arthur realized that the man stood up and looked at him condescendingly. The other party is very tall, but his body is extremely well-proportioned, and his expression looks noble and mocking.

"Hello, Mr. Glass." He politely said, "I am the Count of Glasse." ”

Arthur was stunned for a moment, staring blankly at the other man's face, his features glowing softly, so that he could not connect it with his sick father in any way.

"You ......," he muttered, "are you ......?"

"I'm Count Grasse." The stranger repeated, "I have heard from some girls that the Grasses are going to have a wedding that is coming, and that the bride is none other than Lady Nefrita. ”

"I ......" Arthur's voice jammed in his throat, and his eyes moved to his sister's chest—there was a slight heaving there, and it was clear that the maid's life was not over.

"Miss Glass disagrees with that, what do you think?" The stranger said slowly.

In the midst of the fire, Arthur made a decision. He slowly lifted the heavy candlestick in his hand and slammed it into Miranda's head again and again. The burning candle snapped in his thump and rolled to the ground, his face and the chest of his pajamas splattered with dark liquid.

It wasn't until his sister's skull was shattered that Arthur looked up and looked directly into the bright purple eyes. The silver-haired man had a soft smile on his lips, and he seemed to appreciate what he had just done.

"You can be Count Glass." Arthur muttered, "I...... We are happy to welcome you. ”