Returning to the estate, Lina Riley tethered her horse. Upon stepping inside, she ran into Reginald Riley, who wore a grim expression. He glowered and snapped, "Where did you learn your martial arts?"
Ordinarily, becoming the top champion would be cause for celebration, yet as her father, Reginald showed not the slightest hint of joy, only wariness. The Rileys wielded great power, so quick news was hardly surprising. Lina had anticipated this. She let out a cold laugh, meeting her father's gaze without a trace of fear—as though he were beneath her notice.
"You refused to guide me, Father, so I had to look out for myself."
Reginald seethed. With Sophia Riley absent, he lifted a hand to teach his daughter a lesson. The blow, carrying vicious force, was aimed straight for her face—enough to dislodge teeth.
Riled, Lina grabbed his wrist mid-swing and clenched down hard. Reginald's features twisted in pain. As a general—and as her father—he refused to cry out, but beads of cold sweat dripped from his brow. He struggled to break free, only for the pain to spike further. Furious, he barked, "You insolent girl!"
Seeing his face contort, Lina smirked. "How touching that you remember I'm your daughter."
Another squeeze and she would have broken his hand, so she let go. Pale as a sheet, Reginald clutched his wrist, roiling with shock. The daughter he had always despised and neglected possessed an inner strength surpassing his own. He stared venomously at Lina, as if she were an arch-enemy rather than his flesh and blood.
Dozens of dark, spiteful ideas rushed through his mind. He had soaked in court politics for too long; war was hardly his only skill. Lina, familiar with her father's nature from her previous life, looked on with cold detachment. After Sophia's death back then, Reginald had blamed it all on Lina, repeatedly sending her on the most perilous missions in the name of "leading by example." She survived by sheer luck, whereas Reginald, having lost the will to fight, was eventually felled by a stray arrow.
He'd always been no more than a jumping jester to her. Now that Lina had aligned herself with The Princess Royal, she had bigger concerns, namely how to handle Lucille Everard's challenging nature. Without another word to Reginald, she walked past him toward the main house, longing only for a peaceful cup of hot tea.
Passing by Sophia's room, Lina heard sobs and halted.
"Wah… Sister, rest in peace. I'll never forget you."
"Please, my lady, don't cry! Miss Lina will surely feel your kindness, even from beyond the grave…"
Something was off. Lina rapped on the door. "Elder Sister, I'm back."
All sound ceased. A maid opened the door, staring in astonishment. "M-Miss Lina?"
Inside, she caught sight of a small black urn at Sophia's feet—she recognized it as the type used for burning offerings to the departed. Startled, Sophia nudged it aside, though her table still bore half-burned paper money. Her face flushed with guilt, Sophia wrung her hands, at a loss for words.
Lina stepped in and seated herself across from Sophia, watching her cower like an ostrich. Her stern façade broke into a teasing smile. "Did you really have so little faith in me, Elder Sister?"
Sophia began coughing uncontrollably, wanting to explain but failing. A maid hurried to fetch medicine from a cupboard, carefully administering it until Sophia's cough subsided. Her complexion was like white paper. Lina stopped her teasing and asked softly, "How are you feeling these days?"
Sophia's hands trembled, and she offered a strained smile without answering. Lina felt a heaviness in her heart. She remembered someone—an extraordinary healer, an acquaintance of The Princess Royal—wondering if she might eventually cross paths with that person.
Still lost in thought, Lina heard a maid's urgent footsteps approaching.
"Miss Lina, there's a summons from the palace. You're needed at once."
Reaching the main gate, she found Reginald already on his knees.
It was Samuel Whitaker again, delivering a decree. Unlike last time, his manner was overly flattering now.
As Lina stooped to receive the order, he stopped her. "Ah, The Princess Royal said you were hurt. No need to kneel, Miss Lina—just accept the reward."
Puzzled, Lina thought to herself that the duel had been fierce, but she came away with little more than a scratch on her neck—one thinner than a strand of hair.
With a wave of his hand, Samuel signaled two guards to present a gleaming spear with a crimson shaft and silver tip. "A gift from The Princess Royal."
Lina's eyes narrowed. This was the very same weapon she had wielded in her previous life—a royal commendation given after she lost her arm. She never expected to receive it so easily this time around.
Reginald stood aghast. It was one of the legendary weapons crafted by the founding monarch's top artisans over the span of a year. That Lucille Everard would favor Lina so highly as to present her with such a treasure left Reginald trembling in dread and frustration. He believed that if Sophia were healthy, this honor would surely have been hers.
Unconcerned with their reactions, Lina's mind focused solely on that familiar crimson spear. "I thank Your Highness for this great favor," she declared, brimming with gratitude. She accepted the beloved weapon at once.
Watching her cradle it so fondly, Samuel offered an obsequious smile. "Such a valiant young lady—this truly suits you."
He made some more small talk before leading his entourage away. Wasting no time, Lina rushed back to her quarters, eager to recapture the feel of an old friend. She practiced until her clothes were soaked in sweat, reluctant to put it down.
By dusk, Lina carefully stored the spear. Still dissatisfied, she tore up an old garment and wrapped the spearhead in layers, pondering where best to keep it.
"You certainly are pleased with that," came a voice, startling her. Spinning around, Lina spotted Lucille Everard perched on the windowsill. Gentle moonlight touched her face, and she regarded Lina with an amused expression.
This time, Lina was less terrified than in previous encounters. She placed the spear aside and greeted, "Your Highness."
Lucille gave a curt nod, then vaulted down from the window, drifting closer until her gaze fell on the faint cut at Lina's neck. Without a word, she looked away, then sat on Lina's bed. "Ever thought about moving out?"
With her extensive connections, Lucille was well aware of Reginald's intentions. Ordinarily, she would have dismissed them, but meddling a bit was no trouble. Lina was so intriguing, after all—keeping her close might provide some diversion. Besides, it saved Lucille from coming here so often.
Lina failed to follow at first. "Your servant has barely two coins to rub together; I can't afford my own place. Is that why you came tonight, Your Highness?"
Lucille didn't answer immediately, casting a quick look of distaste around the room. Then, speaking low and tempting, she said, "How about moving into the palace?"
Her tone was casual, but given certain awkward incidents between them, Lina blushed, her ears going pink with panic. "I appreciate Your Highness's kindness, but I'm too lowly to deserve it."
Lucille toyed with a lock of her own hair, catching Lina's nervous posture at a glance and instantly grasping her thoughts. The girl was positively innocent. Amused by her discovery, Lucille let go of her hair, stood up, and walked toward Lina, step by step.
Though Lina felt fearful, she dared not move. Her eyes darted about helplessly. An elusive scent of plum blossoms quickened her pulse. Finally, she couldn't help but plead, "Your Highness…"
Seeing the red tips of Lina's ears, Lucille relented. They were barely half a step apart when Lucille quipped, "I'm not going to eat you."
Lina, utterly at a loss, thought The Princess Royal might be the most uninhibited Earthbound she'd ever met. Before she could respond, a masked figure descended upside-down from the window, blocking the moonlight.
"Your Majesty, Beatrice Byrd awaits you in the palace."
Apparently, this masked individual was one of Lucille's loyal agents, and whoever Beatrice Byrd was, The Princess Royal seemed to hold her in high esteem.
Slightly surprised, Lucille surmised that Beatrice must have been on her way back even before receiving Lucille's message. Coming back so soon was convenient indeed.
Glancing over her shoulder at Lina, Lucille's eyes glinted with cryptic meaning. Lina's heart fluttered. Without a formal goodbye, Lucille slipped through the window and disappeared.
She made for her private quarters at top speed, where bright candlelight illuminated the room. A woman in coarse attire sat at a side table, turning at Lucille's arrival with a weary smile. "Lucy."
Lucille settled across from her and couldn't help asking, "You didn't go see your daughter off?"
"I changed my mind. I want her by my side."
In the flickering candlelight, the woman's somber look perplexed Lucille. This was hardly the fearless Beatrice Byrd she knew. The quack doctor, as heartless as Lucille herself, now appeared subdued.
Wary, Lucille stiffened. "If there's anything you need, say the word."
But Beatrice merely shook her head, unwilling to dwell on her own troubles. Instead, she shifted the subject to Lucille's matters. "Don't overthink things about that Riley girl. I think she's quite nice. Besides, you're not getting any younger."
Lucille gave a derisive snort. "You claim Lina's good? Have you even met her?"
Beatrice faltered. "Well…no."
Lucille deemed her friend insane, forcing a laugh. "Neither of us is married. I'm twenty-seven, you're thirty-two. Common sense says you should go first."
Feigning regret, Lucille continued, "Come to think of it, I've failed to plan your future properly. In a few days, I'll summon all the finest Heavenblessed in The Kingdom of Ravenwell so you can make your pick."
Beatrice's scalp prickled. Lucille was clearly trying to mess with her. "Alright, I'm sorry, I get it. Let's move on. Check your pulse, please."
Lucille dutifully extended her wrist. After taking her pulse, Beatrice beamed. "The toxin has greatly subsided, with no lingering effects. You might as well accept that little girl, you know."
Seeing Lucille's face darken, Beatrice quickly added, "I was kidding!"
Bone-weary from her travels, Beatrice yawned, wiping away a few tears. "If there's nothing else, I'll retire."
Lucille waved dismissively, relieved to be alone. Gazing at the dancing candle flame, she found herself picturing Lina's face in the flickers of light. Just as she registered that thought, the imagined face was consumed by fire, turning black and charred. Startled, Lucille sprang to her feet, only to see nothing in the flame after all.
She sat back down and massaged her temples. "It's just another hallucination," she murmured.