The sun emanated gentle light and warmth, unlike the relentless heat of the summer. Its light was brilliant but not blinding, warm but not sweltering, just like the people with me in the grand duke’s castle.

A variety of colorful blooms filled the flower beds. Red and pink roses surrounded the gate from afar, giving the air an elegant scent.

“Today, we’ve prepared apricot bread, sandwiches, strawberry compote, lemon curd, and clotted cream to be served with the scones.”

Louvienne enthusiastically pointed out each snack, indicating her familiarity with them. One treat, a slice of blueberry cake, caught my eye, though she omitted mentioning it. The exclusivity of the cake led me to believe it was reserved for Raleigh or herself, not intended for sharing with me.

“I don’t know your preference for teas, so I prepared two. We have Cruesci and Caezinhia tea. Cruesci is a flower that only blooms here in Eskal, and is popular among the locals here. On the other hand, Caezinhia is a plant from Aldorado Island, and its fruits and flowers only bloom once in seven years.”

The array of snacks and tea seemed sufficient for a group of five to eight individuals, yet it was just the three of us – Louvienne, Raleigh, and myself.

At times, it may come across as a display of affluence, yet deep down, I understand that she simply intends to ensure that I find something to appreciate among the carefully prepared snacks.

She might be unaware, but having lived the life of a commoner, her emphasis on the teas' rarity felt like a form of boasting to me.

Nevertheless, I doubt that it's her intention. I believe she is simply excited to host a tea party with a new guest.

"I hope you'll like what I prepared." She said, and she started pouring our tea into our teacups.

“You must enjoy tea parties a lot,” I commented. “I appreciate your efforts, especially your enthusiasm.”

“Believe it or not, this is the first tea party I hosted. I only joined a few back then, so I wanted to apply what I learned based on my observations."

She offered a warm smile, and in that moment, I comprehended the source of her enthusiasm. Louvienne radiates with vibrant energy, as radiant as the sun. In contrast, Raleigh exudes a cold demeanor akin to winter. How did these two get along?

“Though it’s the servants who prepared the snacks, Louvienne is the one who brewed the tea herself from its raw form up into our cups.”

“That’s amazing. I haven’t tried brewing it myself. It might sound silly, but this is probably the first safe tea party that I’ve attended.”

Silence followed my words, and they couldn’t hide the shock on their faces.

“Right, I remember you mentioned that the Eurhyian queen attempted to poison you a couple of times. But don’t worry, all that you see here are free from poison.” Louvienne replied.

As I raised the teacup to my lips and savored a sip of Caezinhia tea, I was greeted by its robust fragrance and a delightful sweet aftertaste. This unique blend was a novel experience for me, adding an intriguing element to the tea party.

“Thanks for the tea. I liked it. I’ll try the other one later,” I shifted my gaze to Raleigh. “I know that we’re not just here for the tea, though.”

Raleigh gingerly placed his tea on the saucer, his stare icy enough to evoke a sense of being cornered, as if I had committed a transgression. "Let's hear it. I want to know what's going through your head before we all temporarily part ways."

“I only have one goal – and that is to return the life Azriel has lost, nothing else. I need to communicate with the former empress because I’m certain that my questions can only be answered by her. Hervouet will serve as a bridge, but of course, he has his conditions. He wanted to keep me under his watch, making marriage as an excuse. He sure has plotted something against me, but …”

I can always play dirty. I wanted to add.

“You know, the second prince told me something before you woke up. What I can see here is the second prince might appear as a stumbling block, but your real enemy might be someone else.” Raleigh warned.

“And that is?”

“Eviona.”

They say that Eviona is one of the strongest Izavenes alive. But how can we become enemies if we don’t even know each other?

“I asked Hervouet about the Rhinecrest. He said that as far as he knew, a red diamond Izavene stronger than Azriel was the only one who could wake him up. Who else do you think is stronger than him?"

Azriel confided in me that he considers himself the weakest among his siblings, with Eviona being the strongest.

However, beyond these tidbits of information, it's challenging to formulate any theories given our restricted knowledge. The enigmatic figure who holds all the answers is none other than the blood empress.

It's frustrating to consider that the imperial family concealed numerous details to maintain the ignorance of other Izavenes regarding the Rhinecrest. Many Izavenes are unaware of its existence or its mechanisms.

But one thing is for sure – they have a reason, and I have to find out whatever that is.

“Thyra, let me remind you of this – marrying the second prince isn’t much different from entering a cage. You grew up in the world of humans. Izavenes are crazy, it’s difficult to see the wheels turning in their heads. Just like yourself, as an example. What have you observed about your identity from living as a human, and how you’ve become when you lived with the Izavenes?”

He's right. Since my arrival here, the environment has compelled me to adopt a persona that diverges from my true self. In Eurhyia, maintaining vigilance was second nature, and I found it effortless to outwit others to safeguard myself.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Ever since I came here, I unmindfully adoped ruthless tactics. I discussed death casually, and I couldn’t trust my feelings, because I find it hard to figure out what’s real and what’s not.

I discarded all ties from Eurhyia as if they were obsolete tools. The longer I remained here, the more I felt estranged from my true self.

The void within me persisted, despite the abundance of power at my disposal.

I clenched my hands on my lap as I reflected on the person I've become – no, it would be too kind for me to call myself a person, but I became like other Izavenes who lived a life that forced me to become violent to get what I want.

“You’re right. I’ve become … like them,” I admitted as I cut off eye contact, clueless on what to say next. Louvienne gently held the top of my clenched fists, and I found it oddly comforting.

“Whatever happens, just let us know how we can help you. Send us a letter and we’ll see what we can do. We’re friends, right? That’s what friends do.”

Her comforting words thawed the icy chill in my heart, prompting a nod of gratitude from me. I offered them a lingering gaze, knowing it might be the final farewell to true friends who had cared for me unconditionally.

──•~❉᯽❉~•──

Over the course of the ten-day expedition, every muscle in my body throbbed with pain, my eyelids drooped with exhaustion, and my mind was clouded from the constant travel. We had transitioned from one carriage to another, spent nights at various inns, embarked on a boat ride, and now another carriage ride of who knows how long it will take. Thinking about the details alone feels like my life is going to be drained out of me.

I could really use three days of uninterrupted rest to recharge and recover the energy depleted during our journey.

“Thyra,” Hervouet called, while I was unintentionally avoiding a conversation with him by looking outside the carriage by the window as an excuse.

“I know you’re unhappy with all these, but we need to talk.” He added.

“What now?”

"This marks your final day as Thyra Edevane. One more day of travel awaits us, and upon reaching the viscount's manor, you will be presented with your new name. I shall keep your true identity confidential," he disclosed as he retrieved a document from an envelope and proceeded to read out the particulars to me.

“Your adoptive parents would be Velvedore and Emmeliette Evaristo. They have a second daughter named Riaveric, and their first daughter, who was supposed to be the heir, is Erinna Evaristo, who’s already deceased. As I said before, their family is drowning in debt because of his gambling habits. The viscount took pride in Erinna’s beauty and grace, but she was materialistic and was spoiled by her father. He used up most of his family’s wealth to make Erinna happy.”

Hervouet glanced from the document to me, assessing if I remained attentive. I narrowed my gaze in response, maintaining eye contact and anticipating his next words.

“Erinna died because of suicide. The specifics weren’t disclosed, but you’ll find out once you’re there. According to some rumors, Velvedore has lost his mind after Erinna’s death, thus, you shouldn’t expect a warm welcome from him who couldn’t move on from his daughter’s death.”

Suicide. When the news gets spread among the outsiders, it will surely stain their family’s reputation. Nobles, especially women, are usually fond of rumors.

Nobles aren’t likely to sympathize about the family’s loss, but rather, they’re more likely to assume the cause behind it – and twist the story, one way or another.

They would readily embrace the rumors over the actual facts, ultimately leading to a tarnished image of the individual involved as their opinions propagate.

That’s the kind of nobles that I know from Eurhyia. I doubt that Izavenes are any different. It can be worse, considering that they have superiority issues towards humans.

“By any chance, was Erinna engaged to someone?”

“She was engaged with a knight, and the man is still serving the viscount up to this day. I forgot the name, but it’s not like I care.”

Resting my head against the carriage wall, my eyelids weighed down by exhaustion. Though he mentioned another day of travel, I found it unbearable to endure any longer.

“For God’s sake, is it even possible for us to just teleport and go directly to Greizenne?”

Hervouet looked away as he responded.

“We can. But it will only be possible if you know the exact location of where you'll be at that certain moment, and my teleportation power has its limits. It's not like I know the places we've passed through. Greizenne is my territory, and I’m not familiar with the others.”

Why do I have this feeling that I’m missing something? I’m aware that teleportation has its limits depending on the distance, but something feels off about his statement.

Ah, I think I understand now.

“You’re using that as an excuse to make us travel longer, don’t you? So that we can talk.”

“I’m not denying it. But you have no choice but to follow my lead, don’t you? I’m your key to the palace after all, and all you have to do is cooperate and do as I wish.”

I wanted to burn the carriage the moment he confirmed my suspicions. Why didn’t I think of that this whole time? We could’ve shortened our travel time if I forced him to.

Azriel shared his powers with me by creating the hand chain that binds me to him, and it didn't strike me that it's something I can also do. How can I forget something important?

As we near our destination, escape seems unlikely. Yet, if he has started deceiving me already, I shouldn't be shocked if there are additional lies. I must remain vigilant to prevent being manipulated.

He might view me as a compliant pet for his amusement, but even pets can retaliate. I must bide my time until the opportune moment before I take a stand against him.

“It’s no use if you’re thinking of teleporting now. You don’t even know where we’re going.” He looked at me intently, his eyebrows furrowed.

“I’m not thinking of escaping. From the moment I agreed on all these, I already know that my fate is already decided.” I crossed my arms across me as I gathered my thoughts. This trip might take a while more, and since we're meant to talk, I should know an information or two about what will happen shortly.

One thing I noticed about Hervouet is his confidence in everything about Greizenne. But for what reason?

"Say, why do you have a strong influence in Greizenne? You invited me to the auction house that you own, you know the people even the ones who are the lowest in the nobility. It wasn’t hard for you to convince the viscount to adopt me.”

“Greizenne is technically mine,” he answered, and more questions followed up in my head. “The Duke of Greizenne, Arthur Ruivenfiere, is childless and his wife already died. It was agreed that if he decides to retire, I’ll take over his role. That said, I have to know the territory I’ll inherit before I can officially take it as my own. That aside,” he paused as if trying to fill in the silence.

“I mentioned earlier that this will be your last day as Thyra Edevane. Have you thought of a new name for your new identity?”

“Roxana,” I answered. “Roxana Evaristo."

During that time I was separated from Azriel from the Rhinecrest, I encountered the crimson skies as I reconnected with my physical form.

Unsure if it was a visitation from my deceased Father or a figment of my imagination, in moments like these, I yearn for his comforting presence.

But it felt too real to be considered as an imagination. He told me that I won’t be living as Thyra Edevane, as if he knows what the future holds.

"I see. It's settled, then. Try to be at your best behavior and learn about the Evaristo family. You'll stay that for only a month as I prepare the things that we'll need for the wedding. I can also bring you to the former empress, but I can’t guarantee a long conversation because Eviona is keeping an eye on her.”

The carriage came to a halt, and the coachman declared our arrival at the destination. Upon entering the manor, three individuals awaited us, presumably the viscount and viscountess.

The viscount has a deep, sunken eye shadowed by dark circles – and on the contrary, the viscountess greeted us with a smile, though it’s not hard to tell that her smile is forced.

Right beside the viscount stands a tall man who stared through my soul as if he could eat me alive at any moment, looking like a vengeful spirit with a grudge. His unfriendly way of greeting us made my skin crawl, but I don’t remember Hervouet saying that the viscount has a son for him to appear like this as if he’s a part of the family.

Just … what kind of household is this?