The morning air over Noir Estate was cold enough to bite. From my balcony, I could see the city waking—merchants setting up stalls, guards patrolling the cobblestone streets—but my mind wasn't on the sunrise.
It was on the trial.
[SYSTEM ALERT]:
Main Quest – "Prove Your Innocence" – RESUMES in 02:15:47.
Side Quest Activated – "Win the Court's Favor" – Reward: Political Leverage (+20 Influence).
Warning: Failure will escalate to Execution Route.
Execution route? Oh, perfect. Nothing like a little death penalty to spice up breakfast.
I glanced over at my dressing table where the maid had laid out my trial gown: black silk with crimson trim. It was elegant, intimidating, and very much "villainess chic." My original plan had been to soften my image for the court—but the System had slapped a glowing Recommended tag on this outfit. Which meant it was either a buff or a trap.
By the time the carriage rolled to the palace gates, the streets were crowded. Whispers chased me all the way to the throne room.
Inside, the atmosphere was sharper than yesterday. The king sat rigid, the high council flanking him. Caelan stood near the dais, tense but composed. Lysander was stationed farther back, watching everything like a predator assessing a battlefield.
The prosecutor wasted no time. "Your majesty, new evidence has come to light overnight."
Oh no. That tone was never good news.
Two guards entered—carrying an ornate silver box. They set it down in the center of the chamber and opened it. Inside was a small fragment of the ballroom mirror… glowing faintly red.
[SYSTEM NOTICE]:
Host Signature Detected – Mirror Ren fragment unstable.
New Risk: Fragment may attempt to overwrite Host Personality.
Overwrite? As in, erase me?
The prosecutor turned to the court. "As you can see, the artifact retains traces of dangerous magic. I have secured the testimony of a specialist who can confirm its nature."
A woman stepped forward, hooded, her face hidden. She stopped just short of the evidence, then slowly removed her hood—revealing eyes the color of molten silver.
The court gasped.
I recognized her instantly.
Not because she was in the original plot (she wasn't), but because the System helpfully pinged her file:
[NPC IDENTIFIED]: Selene Arkwright – Court Enchanter (Unwritten Variable).
Affiliation: Neutral (Unknown).
Special Skill: Truthbinding.
"Your majesty," Selene said, voice like ice over water, "I can draw the magic out and reveal its source."
Nope. Absolutely not. That would expose me faster than spilling wine on a white carpet.
Before I could object, the System chimed in again:
[SYSTEM OPTION]:
Allow the ritual – Risk: Exposure (70%). Reward: Truthbinding Buff.
Interrupt the ritual – Risk: Court Suspicion (+30%). Reward: Control of Evidence.
Great. Risk my life or my reputation. Classic Monday.
"I must object," I said, stepping forward. "Artifacts of unstable magic are… volatile. The court would be risking not only the truth, but lives."
The prosecutor smirked. "Do you fear the truth, Lady Noir?"
"I fear recklessness," I countered smoothly. "And I have the scars to prove it."
A murmur ran through the nobles. Some looked uneasy; others intrigued.
The king's gaze swept between us. "Lady Seraphine, if you have an alternative, now is the time to present it."
This was it—the pivot point.
[SYSTEM NOTICE]:
New Action Unlocked – "Divert and Distract."
Effect: Redirect attention to a new target or revelation.
I took a deep breath, glanced at the nobles, then at Caelan—who gave the smallest nod. And with a voice that carried to the farthest corner, I said:
"Your majesty… I believe the magic in that mirror fragment is not mine at all. In fact—" I let the pause hang like a blade "—it belongs to someone in this very room."
The chamber erupted. Lysander's eyes snapped to mine, sharp and dangerous. Selene tilted her head, assessing me with a new kind of interest.
The king slammed his gavel. "Explain yourself, Lady Noir."
And that, of course, was when the mirror fragment pulsed violently—cracks spiderwebbing across its surface—just before it let out a sound that was half a whisper, half a scream.
The trial… had just gone completely off script.
---
END OF CHAPTER