Lysandra didn't remember how she got from her chambers to her brother's quarters. One moment she was standing in shock; the next, she was striding through the palace corridors, her heartbeat pounding louder than her footsteps.
Servants parted for her, bowing deeply, but she barely saw them.
Please… please let this timeline be different…
She burst into Kyler's room. The guards jumped to attention.
"What happened?" Lysandra demanded.
Her voice cracked—not with fear, but with fury.
Inside, the room was dim. Curtains drawn. Physicians crowding around the prince's bed. The air smelled of herbs… and something bitter beneath it.
Kyler lay motionless, his chest rising shallowly.
"Your Highness…" the chief physician stepped forward. "The prince… is breathing, but he cannot be roused."
Lysandra's nails dug into her palms. "Why? What did he eat? What did he drink? Who served him?"
The servants exchanged terrified glances. No one answered.
Her eyes sharpened. "I had his meals tested. I inspected everything. So tell me—how did this happen?"
A heavy silence fell.
"We… don't know," the physician whispered.
Lysandra clenched her jaw, refusing to break. She forced herself closer to her brother, placing a trembling hand over his.
Warm. Alive. For now.
"I won't let you die again," she whispered, barely audible.
A soft tap sounded at the door.
"Your Highness," a soldier announced. "Commander Serene requests your presence."
Lysandra froze.
Of course. The moment something went wrong—Serene appeared.
She looked at her brother one last time, then straightened. "Tell her I'm coming."
---
The hall outside felt colder than before. Serene stood there in full armor, her cape catching the faint breeze. Her expression was unreadable, but her eyes pinned Lysandra instantly.
"Your Highness," Serene said softly. "You fled the hall so suddenly last night. I came to check on"
"Why are you here?" Lysandra snapped.
Serene paused.
"The council heard of the prince's condition," she said. "They are demanding a statement from you."
"Already?" Lysandra whispered.
Yes. It was happening again. Too fast.
Her brother poisoned. The council turning impatient. The walls of the palace tightening around her throat.
Serene stepped closer.
"You look pale," she murmured. "Let me escort you—"
Lysandra stepped back immediately.
"Don't touch me."
Something flickered in Serene's eyes. Hurt? Confusion? Lysandra didn't care. She couldn't care.
Not after everything.
She steadied her breathing and lifted her chin.
"Tell the council I'll be there shortly."
Serene bowed, but her gaze lingered.
As the knight walked away, Lysandra felt her chest tighten.
Focus. You cannot let emotions get in the way. Not again.
---
On the way to the council chamber, she noticed something strange.
The servants she passed didn't meet her eyes. Two maids whispered quickly, then went silent as she approached. A guard flinched when she looked at him.
Fear.
Not of the prince's condition…
But of her.
Just like in the last timeline.
Her stomach turned.
They already think I'm involved.
When she reached the tall double doors of the council room, she paused. Her pulse hammered. She remembered this place too clearly—accusations, whispers, the tightening noose around her life…
Not this time.
She pushed the doors open.
Twelve councilors turned toward her. Cold, sharp, waiting.
"Princess Lysandra," the High Councilor said, "your brother—the crown prince—is in critical condition. We require your explanation."
Lysandra inhaled slowly.
Control yourself. Be smarter. Be sharper.
"I have no explanation yet," she said evenly. "But I intend to find the truth before anyone else dies."
The words struck the room like a spark.
A murmur swept through the councilors.
Before anyone else dies?
Does she know something?
Is she threatening someone?
Lysandra noticed immediately. She lowered her eyes, pretending innocence.
"Forgive me," she continued, voice softer. "I am… simply anxious for my brother."
A calculated tremble in her tone. Enough to disarm suspicion. Enough to buy time.
The High Councilor leaned forward.
"Then you won't mind Commander Serene questioning your movements yesterday?"
Serene?
Lysandra's blood ran cold.
She turned slowly.
Serene was standing in the corner of the chamber—quiet, unreadable, watching her.
Their eyes met.
Lysandra's heart skipped.
Serene stepped forward, voice smooth and steady.
"With your permission, Princess," she said, "I will personally ensure your safety… and the truth."
Her safety.
Or her downfall.
Lysandra swallowed hard.
The game had begun.