The castle had been silent ever since the last maid stopped working there. It wasn't just because caring for Helen had become a game of chance—where one day she acted "normal" and the next seemed like a cruel mistress. Guest had done more than enough for the staff and had taken it upon himself to care for Helen. Yet, as he watched her sleeping in bed—her hair gray and her face lined with wrinkles—he could only remember the actress she once was: the smooth skin, blue eyes, blonde hair, and an almost Grecian air, with a body like Venus. But that was long ago—a time that would never return. If only Guest had children to anchor him... but Helen could neither conceive nor did she wish to adopt. In the end, only he remained, gazing at Helen and then at the three portraits on the dresser. The first was a painting of a young man of delicate, aristocratic beauty. It was Guest in his youth, back when he first met Helen. Wavy, golden-brown hair framed a pale, harmonious face, softly illuminated against a dark background. His black uniform with gold buttons hinted at noble or military origins, while his direct, serious gaze conveyed a strange blend of innocence and determination, as if concealing secrets never revealed. Though it was from long ago, Guest loved remembering that time. The second was a black-and-white photograph of a young man with striking, melancholic features. It was his older brother, Eric. His dark, tousled hair, a subtle scar on his face, and a distant expression gave the impression of someone marked by hardship. Dressed in elegant yet understated clothing, he stared at something beyond the frame, lost in thought. There is a romantic, tragic aura about him, like that of a brooding heir or a tormented poet. He vividly recalls how his brother’s demeanor changed after returning from that cursed war; once loving and gentle, he became cold and melancholic—and to this day, no one knows where he went. The other portrait is a delicate photograph of a young woman with long, light hair cascading softly over her shoulders. It is Helen in her twenties, back when she first met and began dating Guest. Her face holds a serene, almost ethereal beauty, accentuated by the image's black-and-white tones. Her calm, light-colored eyes seem to follow the viewer, while the softness of her expression conveys sweetness, sensitivity, and a touch of nostalgia—as if she were remembered with great affection by the family. Even then, she was a talented actress, having performed in plays and even shared the stage with Alain Delon. But all this nostalgia is cut short by the sound of a door slamming shut.