The Ashmille County's Grand Hall was marvelous tonight —ceilings with crystal chandeliers suspended like falling stars, and a floor polished so bright it mirrored every guest's mask of civility.
Seraphyne knew how to play her part.
Her sapphire gown flowed like water as she glided through the nobles, her laughter timed, her wit honed to a gleaming point. Her studies had not been in vain. Gone was the image of the sheltered, fragile girl content to smile and nod, like how she was described in the book. Tonight, she was everything they didn't expect: articulate, politically informed, and thoroughly captivating.
"I must say," Baron Walton, the Lord who governs the barony near the western part of Ashmille drawled, wine swirling lazily in his goblet, "you have quite the grasp on foreign trade policy, Lady Seraphyne. I had no idea you took an interest in such matters. I guess Lord Thalor is already making you his successor."
Seraphyne offered a gentle smile, the kind that veiled steel behind silk. "An interest in practicality is necessary when one is to be the future Crown Princess. Don't you agree, Your Grace?"
The baron chuckled, both flustered and impressed. "Indeed."
Across the room, Elliot watched her. Not just watched — observed. There was a glint of something in his eyes, unreadable but unmistakably intrigued. This wasn't the girl he had expected to marry. And for once, that uncertainty wasn't met with annoyance — but admiration.
But even as admiration bloomed, something else disrupted the perfect orchestration of the evening.
A ripple coursed through the hall.
Soft murmurs turned into buzzing curiosity. The doors at the far end opened again, though the procession of arrivals should have ended an hour ago. Heads turned, whispers stirred. And there she was.
Ellise.
Draped in bold crimson silk, she moved like a storm given shape. Her presence commanded attention through elegance. Once dismissed as a willful, unrefined daughter of a marquis, she now stood tall and proud — the heroine of a recent bandit ambush where, according to the spreading rumor, she had led the counterattack that saved Crown Prince Elliot's life.
As in the book, Ellise was supposed to be the one who will marry the Crown Prince. But due to her temper and attitude, the role was given to Seraphyne. And then the reincarnation and change of Ellise happened and Ellise became the heroine. And maybe as the fans and readers of the novel anticipated, Prince Elliot married Ellise.
"Ah… I should have finish the book first before I died." Claire thought in the middle of her reminiscing the book. In this moment, half of the noble guests are discussing that Ellise is now a more suitable partner for Prince Elliot as it should have been in the first place. Ellise is a daughter of a Marquis while Seraphyne is only a daughter of a Count which is a difference in their noble ranking. If Lord Thalor wasn't the Emperor's greatest vassal, this engagement would not even happen even in their imagination.
Seraphyne watched from across the room as Ellise basked in stolen light — nobles swarming her with questions, praises, and overly theatrical admiration. As if her past misdeeds had vanished overnight.
This was part of the game. Claire — the girl whose soul now stirred within Seraphyne's body — had read this novel. She knew Ellise was fated to rise in popularity during this very event. But what had not happened in the original story was,
The engagement had gone through.
That alone had shifted the tides. A major divergence from the plot. Seraphyne's presence beside the Crown Prince had become a new variable — one that even Ellise couldn't fully calculate.
She didn't need to fight for attention now. Not yet.
But the applause, the noise, the heat — it began to crowd her. The air thickened. Her temples throbbed.
Excusing herself discreetly, Seraphyne stepped out onto the moonlit balcony, letting the cold night air cleanse her lungs. The hall's glittering noise dulled behind her, replaced by a hush broken only by the rustling of garden leaves.
She closed her eyes, arms resting on the stone railing. Finally—peace.
Until a shadow stirred.
A figure was already there, leaning against the far edge of the balcony like he belonged to the night itself.
She didn't notice him at first — not until he shifted slightly, the moonlight catching the sharp cut of his cheekbone. Then he turned.
And Seraphyne felt time snag for just a heartbeat.
The man's beauty was not soft like Elliot's. It was dangerous. Perfectly sculpted features, a cascade of ink-black hair, skin pale like marble but warm with life. His eyes—light opal, strange and piercing beneath thick lashes—met hers.
"You have that look," he said, voice low and amused. "Like someone escaping a battlefield disguised as a ballroom."
She blinked. "Excuse me?"
He pushed away from the railing and walked toward her, slow and deliberate. "You were hoping for solitude, weren't you?"
"I was."
"Ah," he sighed. "Then I'm terribly inconvenient."
His tone was teasing, smug even — the kind that made her blood run hot for reasons both irritating and inexplicable. She recognized him now. Of course she did.
Clad Raven Truvania.
The Emperor's bastard son. Half-brother to Elliot. Rumored to be impulsive, brash, and unbecoming of nobility — yet still entrusted with the command of the Imperial Knights due to his exceptional martial skill. His mother had been a prostitute, or so the court whispered, and the emperor's brief obsession had resulted in the birth of a son whose existence complicated everything.
In the novel, Clad was barely more than a background name. He died in a war — unceremoniously and off-page. No arc, no closure. Just a tool for someone else's tragedy.
But now, standing in the moonlight with a crooked smirk and a gaze too sharp for comfort, he felt anything but expendable.
"You're staring," he said, cocking a brow.
Seraphyne caught herself. "You're unusually perceptive for someone so clearly self-absorbed."
He laughed, head tilting. "And you're unusually sharp for someone they used to call a glass doll."
She stiffened slightly.
"Don't look so offended," Clad continued, resting his elbows on the railing beside her. "I didn't say I believed it. You shattered that little illusion quite thoroughly tonight."
She glanced at him, wary. "Why are you here?"
"I could ask you the same. But let's not waste words pretending either of us cares for small talk."
A beat passed.
Then he added, more quietly, "You were impressive in there."
The sincerity startled her. She turned to look at him fully.
"I mean it," he said. "I've seen nobles my whole life — talking without saying anything. But you? You speak to be understood. That's rare."
She blinked, thrown off balance. "Why do I feel like you're trying to disarm me?"
"Because I am," he said, grinning.
"Why?"
Clad leaned closer, not so much invading her space as daring her to retreat. "Because you're interesting. Because I want to see what you'll do next. And maybe... because I'm bored."
She didn't move away.
Instead, her voice dropped, tinged with cool curiosity. "Do you flirt with every woman who walks onto a balcony?"
"Only the ones who look like they're preparing for war."
She huffed, lips twitching. "You're insufferable."
"And you're far more dangerous than anyone in that hall realizes," he said softly, gaze locking onto hers.
The air shifted between them. It wasn't dramatic — not the heart-pounding thunder of a love-at-first-sight cliché. No, it was subtler. A breath caught mid-sentence. A heartbeat out of rhythm. A quiet recognition of something undeniable.
Clad stepped back first, breaking the tension with a half-smile. "Don't worry, I'm not here to steal your crown prince."
"Good. You'd make a poor princess."
He laughed again, this time fuller. "And you're already better at this game than most of us born into it."
Before she could respond, he was already moving toward the hall's entrance. But then he paused, glancing over his shoulder.
"Lady Seraphyne."
She raised a brow.
"If you ever get tired of smiling for people who underestimate you," he said, voice quieter now, "find me. I know what that's like."
Then he was gone.
Seraphyne stood alone, heart stilling slowly. She looked out over the garden below, trying to calm her heart that is now beating so fast.
"'Find me' my ass."