The cool air of the Graymore study clung to Cayena's skin as she leaned against the desk, staring at the open journal before her. Every line penned by her younger self felt like a whisper from a stranger. The naive girl she had been was gone, replaced by a warrior forged in the fires of vengeance.
She flipped through the diary, searching for entries that might offer insight into the precise timeline. Freya's betrayal, her family's downfall, the Emperor's involvement—it all seemed so distant and yet painfully close.
Her fingers froze on a page filled with looping handwriting, dated six months from her current reality.
> Freya and I practiced swordplay in the garden today. She's so cool!
Cayena's jaw tightened. This was the year Freya began ingratiating herself with the family, her charming smile hiding venom. Her mind raced—Freya had likely already started weaving her web. Cayena couldn't afford to wait for proof of betrayal; she needed to act now.
The faint sound of footsteps in the hallway drew her attention. She straightened, closing the diary and slipping it into her gown's hidden pocket. When the door creaked open, she wasn't surprised to see Ethel peeking in.
"Are you hiding in here again?" Ethel teased, stepping inside. Her voice was light, but her eyes held a hint of concern. "You've been so strange today, Cayena. Are you sure you're alright?"
Cayena smiled softly, crossing the room to take her sister's hands. "I'm fine, Ethel. Just… thinking a lot."
Ethel tilted her head, studying her. "Thinking about what?"
"About how much I've missed you," Cayena admitted, her voice trembling with sincerity.
Ethel's cheeks flushed, and she laughed awkwardly. "Missed me? I've been right here all along!"
Cayena forced herself to smile through the ache in her chest. She couldn't explain the truth—not yet. Instead, she pulled Ethel into a hug, holding her close. "Just promise me something," she murmured.
"Anything," Ethel said, her tone softening.
"Stay by my side, no matter what."
Ethel leaned back, her brows furrowing in confusion. "Of course, Cayena. Why would you even ask that?"
"Because I'll need you," Cayena said firmly. "More than you realize."
Ethel hesitated, then nodded. "Alright. I promise."
Cayena released her, offering a grateful smile. "Good. Now, why don't we go to the garden? I could use some fresh air."
Ethel brightened at the suggestion, her earlier concern fading. "Perfect! Let's go."
The Graymore gardens stretched out before them, a tapestry of vibrant flowers and neatly trimmed hedges. The scent of roses and lavender filled the air, mingling with the crisp breeze.
As they strolled through the garden paths, Cayena's senses remained on high alert. Every shadow, every rustling leaf felt like a potential threat. She couldn't let herself relax—not with the stakes this high.
Ethel chattered beside her, oblivious to her sister's tension. She spoke of upcoming dances, trivial gossip, and her excitement about a new dress their mother had ordered for her. Cayena listened with half an ear, her mind turning over plans and contingencies.
"Cayena," Ethel said suddenly, interrupting her thoughts. "Freya's coming to visit tomorrow. Did you know?"
Cayena's heart stopped for a beat. "Freya?"
Ethel nodded, a bright smile on her face. "She wrote to Mother last week. She's bringing some gifts, too. Isn't that sweet of her?"
Sweet. That was one word for it. Cayena's lips tightened, but she forced herself to nod. "Yes, very thoughtful."
Tomorrow. That was sooner than she'd expected. She had less time to prepare than she'd hoped, but it didn't matter. She would face Freya with the knowledge of what was to come.
"Cayena?" Ethel's voice was tentative. "Are you sure you're okay? You look… worried."
Cayena reached out, squeezing her sister's hand. "I'm fine, Ethel. Don't worry about me."
But as they continued their walk, Cayena's mind churned with strategies. Freya's arrival was an opportunity—a chance to gauge her intentions and set her plans in motion.
For now, she would play the role of the dutiful, naive noble. But beneath the surface, her blade was already sharpening.
That evening, as the estate settled into a quiet calm, Cayena retreated to her chambers. The moonlight spilled through the windows, casting silver patterns on the floor.
She sat at her desk, pulling out the diary once more. This time, she didn't read it. Instead, she began writing her own plans in its margins—notes on who to trust, who to avoid, and how to subtly shift the balance of power in her favor.
When Freya arrived tomorrow, Cayena would be ready.
Her second chance wasn't just about survival.
It was about winning.
Morning came too quickly. Sunlight streamed through the tall windows of Cayena's room, pulling her from a restless sleep. For the first time in years, she hadn't dreamed of blood or sorrow. Instead, her mind had replayed her family's laughter, their voices weaving through her thoughts like threads of gold.
But the warm memories only steeled her resolve. She couldn't afford sentimentality, not today.
She rose from her bed, her movements deliberate as she dressed in a gown of soft lavender silk. The color, she remembered, had been her younger self's favorite—a mark of innocence and beauty. It was a stark contrast to the Cayena she had become in her previous life, clad in dark leathers and armed to the teeth.
As she fastened a delicate silver brooch shaped like a blooming rose, she studied her reflection in the mirror. Her youthful face betrayed nothing of the storm raging beneath the surface. Good. Let Freya see only the naive child she expected.
A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts.
"Come in," Cayena called, her voice steady.
The door opened to reveal Ethel, practically bouncing with excitement. "Freya's here! Mother sent me to fetch you."
Cayena forced a smile. "Of course. Let's not keep her waiting."
They made their way to the drawing room, where Freya awaited them. The sight of her sent a shiver down Cayena's spine.
Freya was as radiant as ever, her golden hair falling in perfect waves, her eyes sparkling with warmth. She greeted everyone with practiced grace, her smile wide and genuine. It was easy to see why her younger self had trusted her so completely.
But Cayena knew better now. Behind that charming façade lay a cunning mind and an insatiable ambition.
"Cayena!" Freya exclaimed, rising to her feet. She crossed the room with open arms, pulling Cayena into a warm embrace.
For a moment, Cayena froze. The scent of Freya's perfume, a delicate blend of jasmine and bergamot, brought back memories of whispered secrets and shared laughter. But then the image of her family's lifeless bodies flashed before her eyes, and the warmth in Freya's hug felt like poison.
"It's been too long," Freya said, pulling back to study her. "You've grown so much since I last saw you."
Cayena smiled, masking her true feelings. "And you haven't changed at all, Freya. You're as beautiful as ever."
Freya laughed, a sound that once would have brought Cayena joy. Now, it grated against her nerves.
The pleasantries continued as they sat down for tea, Freya weaving compliments and lighthearted stories into the conversation with ease. She was charming, disarming—everything Cayena had once admired.
But Cayena wasn't listening for the surface words. She was watching Freya's eyes, her subtle movements, the way she glanced at Ethel and their parents. Freya's attention lingered just a little too long on their father, her smile sharpening whenever he spoke.
It was a pattern Cayena recognized all too well. Freya had always been good at manipulating people, winning their trust with her charm before using them as pawns in her schemes.
"Freya," Cayena said suddenly, her tone light, "do you still practice swordplay? I remember you were quite skilled."
Freya blinked, caught off guard, but quickly recovered. "Oh, I dabble here and there. Why do you ask?"
"I was thinking we might spar later," Cayena said, her smile innocent. "It would be nice to see how much we've both improved."
Freya hesitated, her gaze searching Cayena's face for any hidden meaning. "I'd like that," she said finally.
"Wonderful," Cayena replied, sipping her tea. "I'll have the practice weapons prepared this afternoon."