"Lady Kira."

"You look radiant today."

"Happy birthday."

"Congratulations on your engagement."

Compliments surrounded her from every direction, but Kira heard them differently this time. She had once believed these nobles truly cared for her. Now, standing among the same smiling faces with memories of another lifetime weighing heavily on her heart, she realized almost none of the praise belonged to her.

Their eyes weren't admiring Kira Solis. They were admiring the future Crown Princess. The daughter whose marriage would elevate House Solis even further.

The woman whose value came from the powerful man she was expected to marry.

Lord Solis approached with practiced elegance, resting a fatherly hand on her shoulder as several noble families looked on with approving smiles.

"My daughter," he announced proudly, "has always made me proud. She's intelligent, graceful, and soon she'll stand beside His Highness as the future of this Empire."

Kira lowered her head obediently.

"Father praises me too highly."

He smiled for the guests, but his fingers pressed slightly harder against her shoulder.

"Stand a little straighter," he murmured without moving his lips. "Every noble house in the capital is watching."

Not...

"Are you feeling well?"

Not...

"Have you eaten?"

Only posture.

Only appearances.

The pressure disappeared as quickly as it had come, replaced once again by the perfect smile expected of the head of House Solis.

Kira felt nothing.

She had spent years wondering why her father's affection always seemed just beyond reach. Now she understood.

He had never loved people. He loved what people represented.

Status.

Influence.

Reputation.

Everything else came second.

Across the ballroom, Julian excused himself from a group of ministers. he moved through the crowd with effortless confidence. Everywhere he went, nobles greeted him warmly, servants bowed a little lower, and young ladies couldn't quite hide the admiration in their eyes.

He truly had been the Empire's golden prince.

Even Kira couldn't deny that.

"You've been avoiding me all morning."

"I was preparing for the banquet." Julian chuckled softly.

"So serious already? We aren't married yet." Several nearby noblewomen laughed politely.

Kira smiled exactly as she remembered doing countless times before.

"I simply didn't want to keep Your Highness waiting."

"Then you'll have to make it up to me with the first dance."

"As you wish." The exchange was flawless.

Anyone watching would have believed they were a couple deeply in love.

Only Kira noticed how quickly Julian's attention drifted away whenever another influential noble approached. Every smile, every kind word, every thoughtful gesture came naturally to him because politics had become second nature. Looking back, she couldn't even remember the last conversation they'd shared that hadn't somehow benefited his position.

Perhaps...

She never truly knew the man she had planned to marry.

A burst of cheerful laughter echoed nearby.

Lyra stood surrounded by several young noblewomen while an elderly duchess praised her newest herbal remedies.

"Lady Lyra's medicinal tea worked wonders for my headaches."

"My grandson's fever disappeared overnight."

"She's talented and kind. House Solis is truly blessed."

Lyra blushed modestly, waving both hands in embarrassment.

"I only shared what little knowledge I have. Anyone would have done the same."

Kira almost smiled.

No.

Almost no one would have.

Lyra understood people better than anyone.

She never performed kindness where it wasn't useful.

Every bowl of medicine she offered...

Every charitable visit...

Every humble smile...

Was another brick carefully laid beneath the image she'd spent years constructing.

The Empire didn't simply admire Lyra.

It trusted her.

That trust would become one of Kira's greatest enemies.

Accepting another glass of wine from a passing servant, Kira allowed herself to drift through the ballroom at an unhurried pace. She no longer listened to conversations. She watched them.

Near one of the marble columns, Duke Harrington quietly excused himself after a servant discreetly handed him a folded letter. The duke's expression remained unchanged until he read the final line. Then, without another word, he left the ballroom through a side entrance usually reserved for palace officials.

Interesting.

In her previous life, she'd never noticed him leaving.

A few steps farther, she caught sight of Marcus Vale, one of the Empire's wealthiest grain merchants. He had spent years competing for contracts with House Solis, yet tonight he deliberately avoided looking in her father's direction. Instead of joining the other merchants gathered around Lord Solis, Marcus quietly crossed the room and disappeared into another circle of guests.

Stranger still.

The man had once been eager to curry favor with her father.

Then another small detail caught her attention.

A palace eunuch approached Julian from behind, leaned close enough to whisper something into his ear, then immediately disappeared into the crowd before anyone else acknowledged his presence.

Julian's smile didn't falter.

But for a fraction of a second...

His eyes shifted toward the western corridor.

Kira followed his gaze.

Nothing.

Just servants moving between kitchens.

Whatever message had been delivered, Julian clearly didn't want anyone noticing.

Her fingers tightened slightly around the stem of her wine glass.

How many moments like these had she overlooked before?

How many pieces of the puzzle had always been sitting in plain sight while she'd remained too focused on pleasing everyone around her?

Perhaps intelligence had never been her greatest strength.

Observation was.

The realization settled quietly in her mind.

She didn't need to know everyone's secrets immediately.

She only needed to notice what everyone else ignored.

A servant approached carrying a fresh tray of wine.

"Lady Kira."

She accepted another crystal goblet without thinking, lifting it toward her lips just as the musicians fell silent.

Julian stepped onto the small platform at the center of the ballroom.

"My friends," he began warmly, raising his own glass, "today we celebrate Lady Kira's twentieth birthday. Before long, she will also become my wife. I hope all of you will continue blessing us as we build a future worthy of this Empire."

Applause filled the hall.

Dozens of glasses rose together.

Kira lifted hers as well.

Just before the rim reached her lips...

She paused.

Something wasn't right.

The fragrance of sweet berries reached her first.

Then came another scent.

Extremely faint.

Almost impossible to notice beneath the expensive wine.

Her heartbeat slowed.

Nightshade blossom.

No...

Not concentrated enough.

She breathed in once more.

Moon poppy.

A mild sleeping herb.

Harmless in small amounts.

Powerful enough to leave someone unconscious for several hours when mixed correctly.

No ordinary guest would ever detect it.

Years spent working beside physicians had sharpened Kira's senses long before she founded Wildflower.

She knew exactly what she was smelling.

This wasn't poison.

Someone didn't want her dead.

Someone wanted her asleep.

Without the slightest hesitation, Kira raised the goblet the final inch and allowed the wine to touch her lips.

She tilted the glass just enough for anyone watching to believe she had taken a proper sip before lowering it naturally beside her.

Not a single drop passed her lips.

The applause slowly faded as conversations resumed around the ballroom.

Kira smiled politely at another noble offering birthday wishes, but her attention had already shifted elsewhere.

If someone expected her to lose consciousness tonight...

Then whatever came afterward had already been arranged.

Across the ballroom, beyond rows of laughing nobles and glittering chandeliers, Lyra stood speaking with the elderly duchess.

Halfway through the conversation, her eyes quietly lifted.

They settled on Kira's wine glass.

The smile resting on her face slowly disappeared.

Just for a moment.

Long enough for Kira to know one thing with absolute certainty.

The game had already begun.

The banquet grew livelier as the evening wore on, and with every passing minute, Kira became more certain that someone was waiting for her to make a mistake.

Lyra.

Although her smile remained as gentle and flawless as ever, Kira noticed the subtle changes almost immediately. Every few moments, Lyra's gaze drifted toward the crystal goblet in Kira's hand before quickly looking away again. She laughed at conversations a heartbeat too late. She checked the ballroom clock twice within a few minutes. To everyone else, she appeared as calm and graceful as always.

To Kira, she looked like someone whose carefully arranged schedule had begun falling apart.

"By now, I should already be dizzy," Kira thought, keeping her expression pleasantly composed as she thanked another elderly countess for her birthday blessing. "The medicine wasn't meant to make me collapse immediately. It only needed to cloud my thoughts enough that I wouldn't question where someone led me afterward."

Instead...

She stood before hundreds of guests without the slightest sign of discomfort.

For the first time since returning to the past, Kira realized something encouraging.

The future wasn't fixed.

Lyra excused herself from her conversation and drifted naturally through the crowd, never approaching Kira directly. Instead, she greeted nobles, introduced acquaintances, and subtly encouraged guests to gather around her sister.

"My elder sister has always been too shy," Lyra laughed sweetly to a visiting duchess. "Please don't let her hide in the corner all evening."

Within minutes, another group approached Kira.

Then another. Then another.

She barely had enough time to finish one conversation before someone else politely requested a moment of her attention.

At first glance, it looked perfectly innocent.

A future Crown Princess attracting admiration from the Empire's most influential families was only natural.

But Kira quickly understood what Lyra was doing.

She wasn't trying to make Kira popular.

She was making sure dozens of witnesses could later testify that Lady Kira had been smiling, speaking normally, and moving freely throughout the banquet.

If Kira disappeared later...

Everyone would believe she had left of her own accord.

"You changed the plan quickly," Kira admitted silently. "The moment one move failed, you built another."

That alone told her something important. Lyra wasn't simply cruel.

She was adaptable.

The realization made Kira even more cautious.

Across the ballroom, Julian rose from his seat as a servant struck a small silver bell, drawing the guests' attention. The lively conversations gradually faded until only the musicians continued playing softly in the background.

Julian stepped onto the raised platform with effortless confidence, his warm smile earning approving nods from nearly every noble present. Even after living through one lifetime, Kira had to admit he possessed a rare charisma. He knew exactly when to smile, when to pause, and when to lower his voice so people leaned forward to hear every word.

"I'd like to thank everyone for joining us tonight," he began. "Today celebrates not only Lady Kira's birthday, but the future of two families whose loyalty to the Empire has never wavered."

Applause echoed through the ballroom.

Kira listened quietly.

"Our Empire stands because honorable men and women continue protecting its traditions. Loyalty is the foundation of every great family. Integrity is the foundation of every great marriage. And purity, both of character and conduct, is the foundation upon which trust is built."

Her fingers tightened ever so slightly around the stem of her glass.

The words settled over the ballroom like gentle snowfall, earning approving murmurs from countless nobles.

Everyone admired the speech.

Everyone except Kira.

She remembered it.

A year later, after she had been accused of sharing another man's bed, Julian had stood before the Imperial Court and repeated these same ideals almost word for word.

"A Crown Princess must remain beyond suspicion."

"The people deserve someone worthy of respect."

"Even the appearance of impropriety weakens the throne."

Back then...

She had still believed he was trying to protect her. Now she understood. He hadn't been defending her.

He had been preparing everyone to accept her downfall long before it happened.

Every noble applauding tonight would remember this speech when the accusations surfaced.

How tragic.

The prince who valued honor above everything...

Forced to abandon the woman who failed to uphold it.

The story had already been written.

While the applause continued, movement near the western corridor caught her attention.

A young servant carrying a tray of crystal glasses hesitated in the middle of the hallway. Another servant walked past him without slowing, casually adjusting the cuff of his sleeve before brushing two fingers across the side of his neck.

The gesture lasted less than a second.

The young servant's face immediately paled.

His hands began trembling.

A crystal goblet slipped from the tray and shattered loudly against the marble floor.

The sudden crash drew dozens of curious glances.

"Oh, you foolish child," an older steward scolded, hurrying forward. "Clean that immediately."

The frightened servant apologized repeatedly while dropping to his knees.

Within moments, the music resumed and conversations continued as though nothing had happened.

No one questioned it.

Except Kira.

Her gaze lingered on the western corridor.

The servant who had made the signal was already gone.

Too smooth.

Too practiced.

That wasn't coincidence.

It was communication.

"So the next stage has begun."

Instead of unease, an unexpected calm settled over her.

She had spent an entire lifetime wondering how everything had unfolded so perfectly against her.

Now she was finally seeing it. No single person had ruined her. It had taken dozens.

Servants. Witnesses. Messengers. False evidence. Carefully timed conversations. Every piece moved into place with frightening precision.

Which meant there was only one way to dismantle the trap. She had to see all of it. Not part of it.

Every piece.

Kira quietly placed her untouched wine glass onto a passing servant's tray before approaching Lord Solis.

"Father." He glanced at her impatiently.

"What is it?"

"I've been greeting guests for quite some time. Would you excuse me for a few moments? I'd like to freshen up before the birthday dance."

Lord Solis barely looked at her.

"Don't be long. His Highness dislikes waiting."

"Of course." Kira offered a graceful curtsy before turning toward the eastern side of the ballroom where the ladies' retiring rooms were located.

She didn't hurry. She didn't hesitate. She walked exactly as Lady Kira had done in her previous life.

If someone happened to be watching...

They would see nothing unusual. Behind her, Lyra's shoulders relaxed almost imperceptibly.

"She's going," the younger woman thought with quiet satisfaction. "Everything is finally back on schedule."

Kira continued down the beautifully decorated corridor lined with polished mirrors and fresh flowers. The cheerful music from the ballroom gradually faded until only the soft rustle of her skirts accompanied her footsteps.

She reached the ladies' lounge without incident.

Empty. Exactly as she remembered.

She stepped inside.

The room smelled faintly of lavender and rosewater, its elegant furnishings untouched despite the celebration filling the manor.

Kira walked toward the window.

Waited and Listened.

Then... A quiet metallic click echoed from somewhere behind her.

Not loud nor dramatic.

Just enough.

Someone had locked the corridor door from the outside.

The trap had officially begun.

The ladies' lounge fell silent once the lock clicked into place.

Kira remained seated beside the open window, her hands resting neatly in her lap as though nothing unusual had happened. The cheerful music from the banquet drifted faintly through the gardens outside, carried in by the cool spring breeze. It almost made the room feel peaceful.

Almost.

She slowly lifted her eyes and studied the room once more.

Last time, she hadn't seen any of this.

She had entered laughing softly after one of the noble ladies recommended a stronger perfume to calm her nerves before the first dance. By then, the sleeping herb hidden in her wine had already begun taking effect. She remembered feeling strangely tired, convincing herself she had simply skipped breakfast because of the excitement surrounding the banquet. Her vision had blurred shortly afterward, and before she realized something was wrong, darkness had swallowed everything.

When she finally woke... She hadn't been alone.

The memory made her stomach tighten.

She forced herself to breathe slowly before standing from the chair. There was no panic in her movements. If anything, she became calmer with every passing second. Panic had cost her one lifetime already. She refused to let it cost her another.

Instead of rushing toward the locked door, she began examining the room.

The lounge had been prepared for noble ladies needing a quiet place to rest during long banquets. Elegant sofas lined the walls, a polished vanity sat beneath a gilded mirror, and several scented candles burned beside porcelain vases overflowing with fresh flowers. At first glance, everything appeared perfectly ordinary.

It wasn't.

Kira walked toward the center of the room and lowered her gaze.

Someone had recently crossed the polished wooden floor wearing heavy boots.

The marks were faint enough that an ordinary guest would never notice them, but they stood out against the thin layer of dust that always gathered beneath the furniture. Noblewomen didn't wear riding boots inside banquet halls, and servants usually entered through another door.

Someone had been here before her.

She followed the trail until it stopped beside an inner doorway leading to a smaller resting chamber.

The room beyond remained empty.

The bed had been freshly made.

The curtains were neatly tied back.

Yet the air carried the unmistakable scent of candle smoke.

Kira's attention shifted toward the small brass candleholder resting on a side table.

The wax had only just hardened.

Someone had extinguished it moments ago.

"They were waiting for me..." The realization didn't frighten her.

It confirmed what she'd already suspected.

Her gaze swept across the chamber one careful inch at a time until something caught against the edge of a carved chair.

A single loose thread. Dark blue.

Thick wool.

She carefully picked it up between her fingers. Not servant's clothing. Military fabric.

Her brows drew together.

The mercenary.

In her previous life, everyone believed she'd willingly invited a strange man into the manor before being discovered together in this very suite. The scandal had spread through the capital before sunset, destroying her engagement overnight.

She had spent months insisting she had never met the man.

No one believed her.

Because every piece of evidence had pointed toward her guilt.

Kira slowly closed her fingers around the thread.

This time...

She was seeing the stage before the actors arrived.

A faint smile crossed her lips.

"If you're setting a trap," she murmured quietly, "then I should leave something behind as well."

Instead of restoring the room exactly as she'd found it, Kira deliberately walked toward one of the upholstered chairs and pulled it several inches away from its original position. The movement looked insignificant, but anyone carefully examining the room later would immediately realize furniture had been disturbed before any struggle supposedly occurred.

Next, she crossed to the window overlooking the eastern gardens and pushed it fully open.

Cool air swept into the chamber.

If investigators ever questioned how an unknown man entered or escaped the manor, an open window would immediately create doubt.

Finally, she removed a delicate silk handkerchief from her sleeve and lightly brushed away one of the clearer boot prints near the doorway while intentionally leaving the others untouched.

Not enough to erase them.

Only enough to make it obvious that several different sets of footprints had once overlapped.

Questions.

That was all she needed. She didn't have to prove her innocence today. She only had to ensure the lies weren't perfect.

A perfect lie was impossible to defeat. An imperfect one slowly unraveled itself.

The sound of hurried footsteps echoed outside the corridor. Kira immediately returned to the chair beside the window and sat down as though she had been peacefully enjoying the fresh air all along.

The footsteps stopped. Silence followed. Then the door slowly creaked open.

A young servant slipped inside carrying a neatly folded bundle wrapped in white linen. She couldn't have been older than seventeen.

The moment her eyes met Kira's, every trace of color vanished from her face.

She froze so completely that even her breathing seemed to stop. Her terrified expression told Kira everything.

This girl had expected an unconscious victim.

Not someone calmly watching her from across the room.

Neither of them spoke for several heartbeats.

The servant's eyes darted nervously toward the inner chamber before returning to Kira.

She looked trapped.

Like a frightened rabbit realizing the hunter had seen it.

Kira's voice remained gentle.

"So..." The girl flinched. "Who sent you?"

The question landed harder than an accusation.

The servant's lips parted, but no answer came.

Instead, her trembling hands loosened around the bundle she'd been carrying.

The cloth slipped from her fingers.

It struck the floor with a dull thud before unraveling across the polished wood.

A wide leather belt rolled free first.

Then a man's outer robe stained with spilled wine Finally...

A torn white undergarment. The girl's eyes widened in horror. She had ruined everything. This evidence wasn't supposed to appear until Kira was unconscious beside the mercenary.

Now it lay scattered across the floor in plain sight.

She stumbled backward.

"N-No..."

Her voice cracked.

"I..." She turned and fled before Kira could say another word.

The door slammed behind her.

Silence returned once more.

Kira didn't move.

She looked down at the items scattered across the floor before quietly shaking her head.

The servant had never been the mastermind.

She was only another frightened pawn.

Chasing her would accomplish nothing.

Someone intelligent enough to prepare every detail before Kira ever entered the room.

And people like that...

Rarely trusted servants to finish the job alone.

Kira slowly lifted her gaze toward the still-open doorway.

"They'll come themselves," she whispered.

"I only have to wait."

Outside the room, another pair of footsteps echoed steadily through the corridor.

Unlike the servant's frantic running, these steps were slow.

Measured. Confident.

Whoever was approaching had no intention of hiding anymore.