I Was Reborn in Another World, But I Awoke Inside a Corpse

Chapter 169: The Quiet Between Sisters

The morning light slanted through the tall glass windows of the royal study, casting thin golden lines across the floor. Aelira sat motionless at her desk, perfectly upright, a report untouched in her hands.

She had read the first line five times.

And the second line… never.

Because her thoughts weren't in the study.

They were in the silence that had stretched on for three full days.

No message. No mana signal. No note. No system trace.

Isaac. Gone.

Lira. Gone.

And Sylvalen… her little sister. Gone with them.

She had smiled for the court. Told the others to be patient. To trust the anomaly's strength. That Sylvalen wasn't foolish. That they were likely meditating, or soulbound somewhere isolated.

But inside, she'd been still. Too still.

Not because she didn't care.

Because she cared so much she couldn't afford to panic.

Until now.

A knock came at the door.

"Enter," she said calmly, though her voice felt distant even to herself.

A scout stepped in and bowed. "Princess Aelira. The missing three have returned to the capital. They appear unharmed."

Aelira's heart skipped, but her expression didn't change.

"Understood," she said, standing smoothly. "Thank you."

She didn't wait for a summons. She didn't issue a command.

She simply walked out through the side corridor, toward the blossom garden Sylvalen always retreated to when she needed space—when she needed, perhaps, to be found.

The petals drifted gently across the open air, casting soft shadows over moss-covered stones and the slow-turning stream.

Sylvalen sat beneath a flowering branch, her robe loose, her silver-platinum hair unbound. She looked peaceful.

But when she saw Aelira approach, her smile turned gentle.

"You're late," Aelira said, stopping a few paces away.

Sylvalen's eyes sparkled. "We lost track of time."

Aelira stared at her.

Then moved forward and sat beside her on the grass.

Neither spoke for a long while.

The stream bubbled quietly nearby, and the blossoms continued to fall, undisturbed.

"I was worried," Aelira said at last.

"I know," Sylvalen replied, voice quiet. "I'm sorry."

"I didn't show it."

"You never do," Sylvalen said softly.

Aelira looked at her. Her tone didn't change, but there was something fragile just beneath the surface.

"You've always been careful," she murmured. "Always distant. Guarded. I thought you would stay that way a little longer."

Sylvalen was silent for a moment.

Then she spoke—not defensively, but plainly, openly.

"I gave myself to him, Aelira."

Aelira blinked.

Once.

Twice.

"…You what?"

Sylvalen met her gaze. "I slept with Isaac. I chose to. Completely."

Aelira's mouth opened slightly.

She didn't speak.

She didn't breathe.

She just stared—eyes wide, completely still.

"You—" she tried, then stopped.

Her composure fractured, not from judgment or anger—but from pure, overwhelming shock.

"You… slept with him?" she said again, as if saying it might make it real.

Sylvalen nodded. "Yes."

Aelira looked away, eyes unfocused. "I… I didn't expect this. Not yet. Not… like that."

Sylvalen's voice was quiet, but firm. "It wasn't an accident. It wasn't a whim. I love him. I trust him."

Aelira was still. Her hand gripped her own wrist tightly for a long moment.

"…Did he force anything? Did he ask for too much?"

Sylvalen smiled softly. "No. He didn't ask at all. I was the one who stepped forward. And he held me gently."

Aelira pressed her lips together, eyes brimming—but not with tears.

With the weight of a thousand unsaid things.

"I thought I had more time," she said again, voice barely above a whisper. "To watch over you. To keep the world at a distance. Just a little longer."

Sylvalen reached out and took her sister's hand.

"I'm still here," she whispered. "But I'm not your shadow anymore. I'm standing beside him now."

Aelira didn't let go.

After a long silence, she said, "I don't dislike him."

Sylvalen blinked.

Aelira glanced sideways, a reluctant, embarrassed softness in her eyes.

"He frightens me sometimes. But not because I think he's cruel. Because I've never met someone with that much power who chooses restraint so easily."

She looked down. "That kind of man… is dangerous. And rare."

Sylvalen smiled faintly. "That's why I chose him."

Aelira gave a dry breath of laughter—half sigh, half surrender.

"Of course you did."

She was quiet again, then added, "Was it… painful?"

"No," Sylvalen said gently. "It was warm. And kind. And real."

Aelira closed her eyes.

And when she opened them, she looked at Sylvalen not as the First Princess of Thalara…

…but as her sister.

"Then I'm glad," she said softly.

And this time, she meant it without reservation.

"Just promise me next time," Aelira said, squeezing her hand, "you'll tell me first. Not afterward."

Sylvalen's smile grew. "Next time."

Aelira stood, brushing her hands on her robe. "Come home more often."

"I will."

"Even if you're someone's lover now."

"I'm still your sister first," Sylvalen said.

Aelira hesitated at the edge of the garden.

Then looked back, voice softer than a breeze.

"I'm proud of you, Sylvalen."

And then she left—quietly, gracefully, but no longer with fear in her step.

Just love.

The kind that stays, even when everything else changes.

And beneath the blossoms, Sylvalen smiled to herself.

Because she knew: her sister had heard her.

And accepted everything.

Even the parts that hurt.