The King's Grand Birthday Celebration was over. Morning dragged itself into the palace halls like it was hungover.
Eustass hadn't slept much. His body stayed still in bed, but his mind had been pacing all night. Faces, voices, and timelines tangled together until he gave up trying to rest.
He needed answers more than he needed sleep.
So he wandered.
The palace was quieter now, stripped of the laughter and music from the night before. Light poured through tall windows, spilling over polished marble floors. It smelled faintly of flowers and old wood — the kind of scent that came from centuries of power.
But he wasn't just walking for the sake of walking. He had a destination.
The palace library.
In his past life as Eustass the Royal Advisor, he had known every scandal, every hidden affair, every skeleton in the Vandereich family closet… or so he thought. And yet — Celestia Vandereich had never existed in his memory. That was enough to make her dangerous.
The library doors groaned open under his hand. Inside, rows of shelves stretched high into shadows. Dust floated lazily in sunbeams. He knew exactly where to go — the genealogical records, carefully bound in royal blue and gold.
He flipped through pages filled with elegant handwriting, tracing the family tree with his eyes.
Then he saw it.
Princess Celestia Vandereich.
Born to Lady Reona of House Vernestein and King Alexander Vandereich.
His eyes narrowed. So she is your daughter, Reona…
That meant two things.
First — Celestia truly existed in both timelines, because Lady Reona existed in both.
Second — the fact that she had never crossed his path before meant something had erased her from his past.
Was she like him — reborn? Or had someone silenced her before she could matter?
Either answer was worth finding out.
He closed the book, the quiet thump echoing in the vast room. His fingers lingered on the spine for a moment before he turned and slipped out.
Back in the halls, he walked without rushing, his mind sifting through possibilities. That was when—
A voice.
Male. Calm, but edged with a confidence that didn't belong to a servant.
He slowed, tilting his head. The sound came from ahead — a room with its door just barely ajar.
"…and when she drinks it—"
The words were faint, as if wrapped in cloth. He took another step, careful, silent.
"—that's it. Don't worry… slow. Eight, maybe ten hours before it starts showing."
Eustass stopped just beside the doorframe, pressing himself to the wall. The tone was steady, almost bored.
"…by the time it hits, they'll already be on their way back to the mansion. No one's looking at us."
A second voice — softer, hesitant. A maid.
"And… if she notices?"
"She won't. Just drop it in the juice."
A pause. Then the words that drove ice into his veins.
"…Elizabeth. And her boy."
His hand curled into a fist. His heartbeat didn't quicken; it slowed, heavy and deliberate. This wasn't panic. It was the quiet, coiled rage of a man who'd buried enough bodies to know the rules of this game.
So… that's how it is.
Poison. The coward's weapon.
He'd seen this move before — played it himself when necessary. And they thought they were playing it on him?
You want a dirty game? I'll give you a dirty game. But first… let's see which rat thinks they're clever.
He stepped away from the door without a sound.
He hadn't gone more than five steps before a voice called out.
"Prince Kairus?"
He turned. Lady Reona.
Her surprise was fleeting, her smile warm but polished. "What are you doing wandering here alone? Did you get lost?"
He looked at her — the woman who, in his other life, would one day replace Queen Viviane after the queen's so-called 'illness.'
He could have said, I know this palace better than you know your own reflection.
Instead, he smiled faintly. "Yeah… I think I'm lost."
Reona's eyes lingered a second too long before she chuckled softly. "We can't have the young prince wandering the halls. Come, I'll take you back."
Her steps beside him were graceful, deliberate. He noticed the way she glanced down at him — not with affection, but with assessment.
When he returned to his room, he sat on the bed, elbows resting on his knees.
Queen Viviane… they said sickness took you. I never believed it. And Reona… you just happened to slide into the throne after her? No. That's not luck. That's design.
The pieces were moving. He could feel it.
The door burst open.
"Kairus!"
Elizabeth stepped in, cheeks flushed from hurrying. "Breakfast is ready. We should eat before heading back to the mansion."
He stood without a word, following her.
The main dining hall was alive with the soft clinks of silverware and the low hum of morning chatter. Every royal was in place — the King at the center, Queen Viviane on his right, Lady Reona on his left beside Princess Celestia. On the King's right, Prince Lucas and Prince Leigh. Princess Alexandra sat beside them.
Eustass took his seat. His mind was still, but his eyes were sharp. Somewhere at this table was the hand that had set his death in motion.
And Eustass Vael wasn't planning to die a second time.
----
Eustass sat quietly at the long banquet table, hands resting neatly in his lap, posture straight.
Chairs around him filled one by one, the scrape of wood against marble mixing with the low buzz of morning chatter. Servants moved like clockwork, fixing the silverware, smoothing the tablecloth, making sure everything looked perfect.
The royal family took their usual places. The King sat in the middle—broad shoulders, warm eyes, the kind of presence that made you pay attention even when he wasn't speaking. To his right was Queen Viviane, elegant as always but with a tired edge to her smile. On his left, Lady Reona sat still and composed, with Princess Celestia beside her in a lilac dress that caught the light.
Prince Lucas lounged in his chair, like all this formality bored him. Next to him, Prince Leigh sat perfectly straight, quietly talking to Princess Alexandra, who nodded politely while her gaze drifted toward the windows.
Eustass scanned their faces slowly, memorizing them. His plate stayed untouched, the bread in front of him growing cold. Everyone else was already serving themselves—roast meat, fresh fruit glistening under the chandelier, warm bread breaking apart in their hands.
The King raised his hand, and the room fell quiet.
"Today," he said warmly, his voice steady and deep, "we are complete at last. My youngest son sits among us… and Elizabeth too. It's been too long since this table felt whole."
Youngest son? The phrase made Eustass's brow twitch slightly.
He turned to Celestia just as she leaned toward Lady Reona. "Mother, can you pass the bread?"
Mother.
The word hit him like a dropped coin. Pieces clicked together—memories, records, small hints. Lady Reona… really her mother.
Reona passed her the bread with a polite smile. "Of course, dear."
A maid came in, carrying a silver tray of empty crystal glasses. "Refreshments for the family," she said, her voice polite but distant. She placed a glass in front of each person, the faint clink of crystal against wood echoing in the hall.
Another maid followed, holding a jug of golden juice. She poured for each of them, the liquid catching the light like honey.
To anyone else, nothing seemed unusual. But Eustass caught it instantly—the faint of chemical scent.
Poison.
His fingers curled under the table.
Why serve it to everyone if it's just meant for me and Elizabeth?
Then it clicked. They know someone might be watching. They want it to look normal.
And then—No… the glass pitcher's fine. It's the drinking glass.
He smirked faintly. Sloppy.
He reach his glass with full of juice, he lifted it, the deep orange swirling inside.
He didn't take a sip—just raised it slowly while watching the table.
Two sets of eyes locked on him instantly.
Queen Viviane. Lady Reona.
He lowered the glass without drinking.
Then he smirks
Elizabeth leaned toward him, voice low but curious. "Eustass, you don't like the juice?"
"It's fine," he said, calm and casual. "I just think juice isn't… healthy. I'd rather have water."
She frowned. "Juice is healthier than water. You're acting weird again." She reached for his untouched glass. "Here—look, I'll prove it's fine."
No.
Before she could drink, Eustass let his head drop forward, hitting the table with a dull thud.
"Eustass!" Elizabeth gasped, quickly setting the glass down.
Chairs scraped back. "He fainted?" Prince Leigh muttered, half-rising from his seat.
"Poor thing," Princess Alexandra said softly. "He just woke up from a coma, didn't he?"
The King gestured to a servant. "Bring water. Now."
Eustass stayed perfectly still, letting them believe it. The air buzzed with whispers, the sound of boots on marble, the rustle of dresses moving around him.
Inside, his pulse was calm. This wasn't weakness. It was relief.
He'd stopped her just in time.
Eustass stayed slumped forward, cheek resting against the cool wood of the table. From the outside, he probably looked pale and weak. He hope
Inside his head? Chaos.
Why did you even try to drink it, Elizabeth? Damn it. Now I have to act as if I fainted.
The sound of hurried footsteps echoed as a maid rushed in with a silver pitcher of water, just as the King had ordered. Before she could pour, the King's deep voice cut through the murmurs.
"Take him to his room," the King said, his tone firm but not unkind. "Let him rest. He's barely recovered as it is."
He glanced toward Elizabeth, who was now sitting stiff in her chair, visibly shaken. "Stay here for now, Elizabeth. If he wakes and needs you, They will call you. There's no need to disrupt your meal."
Elizabeth shook her head immediately. "No… I'm going with him."
Her chair scraped as she stood, moving to Eustass's side. She slid an arm behind his shoulders, adjusting his head gently so it rested against her chest. Her touch was warm, protective.
Eustass's inner voice went flat. Oh god. Don't. Put me there. This is… way too awkward.
The King sighed, clearly not in the mood to argue. "Fine. Go with him, then. But don't tire yourself."
Across the table, Queen Viviane's eyes narrowed. She leaned slightly toward the King, her voice low but edged with irritation. "And here I thought we could have one peaceful breakfast. Your son seems determined to create scenes."
Prince Leigh snorted quietly. "Well, at least it's not me this time."
Prince Lucas gave him a warning look. "Show some respect. He just collapsed."
Queen Viviane didn't let it go. "Respect is earned, Lucas. And last night, your half brother whispered something rather… unpleasant to me. Perhaps that's why he's not avoiding my gaze this morning."
Elizabeth's head snapped toward her. "That's uncalled for."
Viviane only lifted a brow. "Merely stating facts."
The King's voice cut in, sharp enough to halt the tension. "Enough."
He turned toward the butler, who had been standing silently at the far end of the table. "Edward—fetch the royal physician. Now."
Edward bowed. "At once, Your Majesty."
The maid who'd brought the water now stepped forward, her voice soft. "Your Highness, may I assist you in carrying him?"
Elizabeth nodded gratefully. Together, they lifted Eustass carefully, the legs of his chair scraping back.
As they started toward the door, Princess Celestia spoke, her voice light but tinged with curiosity. "He'll be alright, won't he?"
Prince Lucas answered, "He's stronger than he looks. Probably just exhaustion."
Not wrong, Eustass thought dryly from behind his closed eyelids. Exhausted from saving my own skin.
The hallway beyond the dining room was cooler, quieter. Every step the maid and Elizabeth took carried him further from the suspicious eyes in the room—and closer to whatever he'd have to do next.