Early the next morning, Reginald Riley prepared the carriage by the palace gates, waiting for an audience. Lina Riley stood behind her elder sister, Sophia Riley, head bowed, looking worn and weary. She'd had a restless night haunted by dreams—once awake, she couldn't fall back asleep, spending the long hours wide-eyed.
Her health wasn't truly so frail; she had been secretly training in martial arts. But her illness was not fully healed, and staying awake all night left her haggard.
The palace gates loomed with stern grandeur, and Lina squinted slightly. Behind those walls was the foe she so despised. Her fists clenched involuntarily as her body trembled, though she couldn't tell if it was from anger, excitement, or both—definitely not love.
"Are you afraid?"
The gentle voice, like a cool spring, recalled her to reality. No poisoned wine, no raging fires—just the concerned gaze of her elder sister, her pale face half-hidden beneath a hood. The biting wind turned her skin an unnaturally rosy hue.
A memory from the past life tore through Lina's mind: she pictured her sister's tragic death, a gleaming blade dyed red with blood, and the impossible distance between them. She'd watched Sophia collapse, blood soaking her clothes, lips moving as though trying to speak—but Lina heard nothing. Only the bone-chilling wind howled, blowing away her senses.
Sophia, regarding her younger sister's fragile state, couldn't help taking her hand in comfort. "Don't be scared—stay with me."
But Lina's stare seemed distant, as though she looked right through her. Mistaking Lina's distraction for fear, Sophia teased with a smile, "Do you find me so mesmerizing?"
Lina shook her head, recalling this delicate but still-smiling sister who, in their former life, had been so cruelly slain. A swirl of complex emotions culminated in a quiet response: "You are beautiful, Sister."
Many had praised Sophia's looks, so she paid little heed to such compliments. Yet, for some reason, hearing it from Lina made her heart warm. She reached out and lifted Lina's habitually bowed head—only to realize Lina was taller than she had expected.
Surprised, Sophia studied her sister's face, with its sickly pallor and almond eyes that, when lifted, glimmered with a certain dignity—even intimidation—that clashed with her delicate features.
If she recalled correctly, Lina was already eighteen. She ought to be married by now, but according to tradition, the elder must marry first; while Sophia remained single, Lina had to wait.
That thought left Sophia feeling guilty. "Is there someone you fancy? If so, I'll speak to Father. We can't let you miss out on a good match."
The sudden change of subject startled Lina, and she could only think of how the previous life had ended. Unfortunate events had stolen so much that she was sure she couldn't embrace romance easily. Besides, from the corner of her eye, she noticed Reginald Riley carefully watching them. In this precarious world, she couldn't risk revealing her genuine self yet.
She feigned anxiety, bowing her head in timidity. "I couldn't possibly marry before you, Sister."
Seeing that, Reginald turned away and ignored them. Sophia, though, felt more remorseful than ever. Trying to reassure Lina, she coaxed, "It's all right."
Lina delicately withdrew her hand, putting on a show of weakness. Far from alleviating Sophia's guilt, it intensified it. Adjusting her approach, Sophia asked with a gentler voice, "Then—what sort of Earthbound do you prefer? Don't worry, I'm just curious."
Her question drew many eyes, much to Lina's dismay. She had half a mind to suspect Sophia was reborn too, but she recalled from their previous life that Sophia died early on, before Lina had earned any renown. No one would have tried to flatter her.
Inwardly perplexed, Lina put on a shy act. "I like someone gentle, like a little rabbit."
That sort of Earthbound was a dime a dozen in The Kingdom of Ravenwell.
But in Sophia's eyes, Lina herself more resembled a fragile bunny—reminding her of the two rabbits she once raised in her mountain retreat, especially the one that lost a forepaw and its eyesight to frostbite, yet remained steadfastly alive. Whenever her own resolve wavered, seeing the resilient rabbits restored her courage.
Sophia chuckled, meaning to speak more, but a wintry gust made her cough into her sleeve. Her maid, alarmed, steadied her while Lina's expression clouded over at the faint tinge of blood on Sophia's lips.
Lina recalled that Reginald had come seeking The Princess Royal's help for Sophia's illness. In the previous life, The Princess Royal never arrived—leading to no outcome at all. Reginald worried he'd offended The Princess Royal, yet no crisis ensued until war broke out.
Lina wondered if, in this life, she could keep Sophia alive. She admired her sister's character, though it wasn't exactly sibling devotion—just respect. Still, simply hearing "The Princess Royal" triggered dread within Lina; she hardly had the nerve to approach that fearsome figure again.
Better think of another way… She abandoned the notion. At sunrise, the towering red gates groaned open, unveiling silver-armored guards, a long walkway beyond—like the gullet of some beast, eager to swallow whoever entered.
An older eunuch in dark green robes emerged, greeting Reginald with a polite smile, though his cloudy eyes revealed a shrewd glimmer. "Last night, the palace messenger didn't mention your second daughter. Didn't realize she was so… fine-looking."
Lina quickly lowered her head. In the previous life, this same Samuel Whitaker hadn't spared her a glance, let alone a compliment.
Reginald, noticing how close his daughters stood, felt an odd pang but said nothing. He calmly replied, "You flatter her, sir."
Pleased at this courtesy, the eunuch offered more insights on palace etiquette. The current monarch was a puppet, so there were few pitfalls, but the real minefield was The Princess Royal. With unease in his voice, he warned them: "Her Majesty is amiable enough, but in front of Her Highness, you must measure your words. Upset her, and not even ten heads could save you."
Reginald, who needed a favor, bowed deeper. "Please guide us, good sir," he said, pressing a heavy coin purse into the eunuch's hand.
Whitaker weighed the pouch and, satisfied by its heft, cleared his throat. "Don't stare at Her Highness or stand too close. Don't speak too loudly—she despises noise—nor too softly, or she'll strain to hear and be annoyed. Keep your head down. She hates anyone taller than she is."
"Make no requests of Her Highness unless she speaks first, and don't start a conversation without permission. She detests wine, dancing, and, above all, flute music—so today's banquet will have none of that. Don't laugh too loudly or cry around her."
Lina stifled a grimace. Even having heard these rules in her previous life, she found them daunting. At least, then, The Princess Royal hadn't shown up at all. If today's events played out similarly, she might not have to see her. Silently, Lina prayed this dreaded figure wouldn't appear.
After a long walk, they reached their destination. Lina obediently stood outside the palace hall, eyes on the tiled floor, occasionally sneaking a look at the grand sign reading "Hall of Reflection." She'd barely glimpsed it before Whitaker reemerged. She lowered her eyes again.
"Her Majesty invites you in."
Following her father and sister, Lina first knelt before Emilia Everard, then was directed to the seat farthest from the throne. Not far from the royal dais, an empty chair remained.
The youthful monarch's voice, though childish, carried a solemn air. "Today's banquet was arranged by my Royal Sister, who unfortunately had to leave early. I'll host you in her stead, General."
Reginald forced down his disappointment, rising. "Your Majesty's kindness is too generous. Serving in our border wars is my duty."
The emperor nodded briskly. "No need for formality. Enjoy yourselves."
Reginald answered respectfully, "As you will."
None of this required Lina's input. She stared at the water in her cup and took a sip—it was indeed just water, same as in her past life.
Previously, Lina had left midway, citing a need for the restroom. On the way, she'd run into Victoria Ashwood, looking wounded. Concerned, she followed her to an abandoned wing by the old palace—where she found Victoria being beaten by some maids. In hindsight, it had all been a trap.
She planned to do the same now, but not to help. She merely wanted to see Victoria in a sorry state.
After her third cup of water, Lina feigned discomfort, murmured something to a nearby maid, and was escorted out.
"Miss, I'll wait here. Call if you need anything."
Before Lina could reply, another maid approached, and they became absorbed in conversation. At that moment, a furtive figure skittered by—roughly sixteen, hair bound with a simple strip of cloth, cheeks sunken, though her eyes shone like a rat scurrying at night.
It was Victoria, disheveled and ragged. Despite her decent features, Lina found herself likening her to a rodent. Such was her disgust.
Catching Lina's eye, Victoria was elated. In the previous life, upon hearing that General Riley brought two daughters to the palace, Victoria devised a scheme. She had matured into an Earthbound, and the Riley daughters—both Heavenblessed—would provide her path out of the old palace. While success wasn't guaranteed (she might yet be executed), she felt she had no choice.
This time, too, she believed Lina would follow the same script so that events would unfold the same, letting Victoria ascend from forsaken princess to reigning monarch. Pride flickered in her heart. But the "prey" was in fact a different person now.
Seeing the bedraggled Victoria, Lina's mouth curled into a mocking arc, eyes flashing lethal intent. Killing her here might solve everything. But the palace environment made that far too dangerous, so she buried the impulse.
Giving a faint snort, Lina calmly slipped after Victoria. Yet she couldn't shake a gnawing sense of foreboding, as though something beyond her control was about to happen.