Days had slipped by since Elara's visit to the Imperial Library, and with each one, she found herself more restless.
No new hints. No more visions. Only silence. It was as if time itself had frozen, mocking her.
Her thoughts circled endlessly around the faint sigil that now marked her wrist. A mark that had never appeared in her previous lives until now.
A deviation. A fracture. Something different.
Perhaps…
Mother's room might hold the next key.
But to enter that room, she needed his permission.
As she made her way through the marble corridor of the palace, her soft footsteps echoed faintly until a familiar figure appeared at the far end.
Golden hair catching the morning light. Crimson eyes that once blazed with passion… now softened, unreadable.
The Crown Prince.
"Your Highness," she greeted with a polite curtsy.
"Elara," Adrienne replied, his voice even, though there was a faint tremor of hesitation. "It's been a while since our last conversation at the library."
She forced a composed smile. "Indeed. I've been meaning to ask about that day, when His Majesty abruptly summoned you. I forgot to bring it up when we visited the Crown Princess's greenhouse; it must have slipped my mind. If you don't mind, Your Highness, was everything all right?"
For a moment, Adrienne looked taken aback, then sighed softly.
"Ah. That." His gaze flicked aside, a shadow crossing his expression. "It was nothing grave. My father only wished to… discuss certain preparations for the Founding Anniversary."
Something in his tone told her it wasn't the full truth, but Elara simply nodded. "I see. I hope it went well, then."
There was a pause. One that felt too long.
Then, quietly, Adrienne asked, "Would you care to join me for tea later this afternoon? I have a few matters I wish to discuss. Nothing official."
Elara's polite smile remained, though her heart gave the faintest tremor.
How I've longed for this kind of warmth you're showing me right now in past lives?
But not this time.
"Thank you for the invitation, Your Highness,"she said, voice cool and even. "But I have prior matters to attend. Perhaps another time?"
He seemed to hesitate, his hand twitching slightly at his side, before nodding. "Very well. Another time, then."
She inclined her head. "I'll reach out once my schedule clears. There's also… a favor I may request from you soon."
His brows lifted faintly. "A favor?"
"Yes." Her gaze hardened slightly, though her tone stayed courteous. "A personal matter. But I'll trouble you with it when the time comes."
Adrienne gave a faint, genuine smile. The kind she wasn't sure she'd ever seen in her previous lives. "Then I'll wait for it."
She curtsied again and walked away, leaving the Crown Prince standing there. A mix of confusion and a strange fondness stirred in his chest.
When she reached her father's office, Elara almost turned back at the sight of Duke Caelum buried under mountains of paperwork.
But before she could step away, his voice called out, warm and steady.
"Come in, Elara. I can always make time for my daughter."
She stepped in, shutting the door softly behind her.
He looked up, tired but smiling. Those familiar blue eyes crinkling, eyes she'd inherited.
"To what do I owe this surprise visit?" he asked lightly.
"I… wanted to ask something," she began, folding her hands together. "It's about Mother's room. I was hoping I could enter it, just for a while."
The quill in his hand froze. For a long moment, only the sound of the clock ticking filled the air.
"…It's been years, Elara," he said quietly. "No one's set foot there since—"
"Since she died," Elara finished softly. "I know."
Caelum's expression softened, grief flickering behind his eyes. "I've kept it untouched. Every detail. Just as she left it."
He exhaled shakily. "It's foolish, I know, but… part of me still believes she'll return. They never found her body, after all."
Elara looked at him. This man, who had led armies, faced nobles, and built the Veyldan name, now held on to a ghost.
"You've always believed she's still alive," she murmured. "Even after all these years."
His lips pressed into a thin line. "Is that so wrong?"
"No," Elara said quietly, though her eyes glinted with something bittersweet. "Just… human."
He smiled faintly. "You looked like her when you said that."
"I'm her daughter after all," Elara whispered, her fingers brushing a strand of her own. "You never told me where she came from."
"She was… a fallen noble," Caelum said after a moment. "From a distant land. She rarely spoke of it, and I didn't press her. I didn't need to know her bloodline to love her."
Elara nodded. She already knew more than he ever would. From lifetimes worth of memories. And she knew, too, that his ignorance might have spared him from far worse truths.
"So?" she asked softly. "May I?"
Caelum hesitated, then sighed, setting his quill down. "All right. But take care, Elara. That room… it holds more ghosts than memories now."
A faint smile curved her lips. "I'll be fine, Father."
When she stepped out of his office, the moon was already rising, pale silver against the dusk.
But instead of returning to the preserved chamber, Elara slipped into a narrow alley deep within the capital.
Her steps led her to a modest shop tucked between crumbling stone walls, where she purchased a rugged, dull-colored dress paired with a hood.
She changed swiftly, after all, wearing such finery would only invite the blades of lurking thieves. Once disguised, Elara emerged into the dusk and made her way toward a weathered wooden sign that creaked above the door: The Iron Fox – Mercenary Guild.
The door opened with a low chime, and a woman with sharp eyes behind the counter looked up.
"Looking for a job, miss?"
"No," Elara said calmly, lowering her hood. "I'm here to hire one."
"And what kind of work do you need done?"
Elara's lips curved faintly, the first real smile she'd shown all day.
"I need someone to find a spy," she said. "Someone who's been following me."