For the first time in her life, Eva had to sneak around in her own house.

The city’s layout was not the only thing she remembered; she could even recall the servants’ shifts and patrol patterns, and with that knowledge in mind, she made her way to Lena’s room without anyone seeing.

It was a room similar to Eva’s, though instead of pale yellow, this room was gray. The furniture was identical from the giant wardrobe down to the cabinet by the bedside. They both hadn’t changed anything their late mother prepared for them, but Eva had a feeling that her sister simply couldn’t be bothered to replace them instead of having an attachment to what their mother had left behind.

Eva checked behind the cabinet, rummaged through the pull-out drawers, checked under the bed, glimpsed behind the wardrobe, peered outside the balcony. She found nothing that could help her; no duke’s signet ring, no incriminating letter. When she was out on the balcony, however, she saw a servant carrying a letter toward the entrance. It might not be hers, but she hurriedly cleared her traces and left anyway.

In Eva’s room, Sofia was standing by, and there was a letter in her hand. Eva received and opened it.

Dear Lady Nacia,

On behalf of the arena, I sincerely apologize to say that your selected combatant has passed away. We will compensate you for any cost that has incurred on your part and will do our best to find a new replacement. We would like you to visit us as soon as possible to discuss your new warrior. We are certain that one of them will catch your eye since we have a wide selection of those similar to the combatant that has passed away.

With respect,

Serpentine

Eva tried to recall other names that were revealed in the news during her past life, but she couldn’t think of one that was useful. Perhaps there were other noble’s brethren whose identities hadn’t been revealed?

She thought for a moment and realized: The arena wouldn’t want to let the mass realize how many of noble blood they had, so they tried their best to hide this fact. The duke’s son was the only one who had his proof of identity that Lena planted on him, so he was also the only one known. There were likely other noble’s children there as well. If she could find someone from at least an earl’s household, then she could ask for their family’s help to launch an investigation.

“Sofia, change my clothes!” Eva smiled. “We are going for a stroll.”

In the arena, Eva found herself in the same silver booth, though she noticed that there were more armed guards than usual. Perhaps to prevent any more death of the slaves.

Eva had left Sofia in an inn she promised to meet Minos at. She already told her that the man coming was trustworthy and that she would most likely have returned to the inn by the time he arrived.

“You,” said Eva, glancing at the masked servant by the door. “Bring me someone knowledgeable about the combatants. I need a specialist.”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

The servant bowed and disappeared into the corridor, later coming back with an elderly man dressed in a loose robe. He had eyes so narrow Eva thought he was walking with his eyes closed.

“Lady Nacia,” said the man, his voice so hoarse it was unnatural. “How honored I am to be able to meet you again.”

Again?

“Sit,” Eva said sharply. “And I would appreciate it if you could be quick. I have an urgent appointment soon.”

The old man bowed and sauntered over to sit. “How can I be of service, lady?”

Eva leaned into her chair, rested her head on her hand, and crossed her legs. “Find me another combatant that has… an exquisite background. I would like to have this done before the day of my duel with Sir Nikitas.”

“Your wish shall be done.” He bowed again. “But would you like to come and have a look at those… combatants? I am sure seeing your warrior for yourself will heighten your… uh… experience.”

“Didn’t I say I am in a hurry?” snapped Eva.

At first, he didn’t reply, and she could barely hear his chuckle.

“What is so funny?”

He proceeded to guffaw, and Eva felt an ominous feeling rising in the pit of her stomach.

“I asked what is so funny,” she said.

“Please pardon me, lady. I just find it amusing,” said the elderly man as his smile widened, “that you could be this haughty even though this is the first time we meet.”

Eva at first didn’t understand what was going on, but suddenly, a napkin was slammed over her nose and mouth from behind. She could smell the incapacitating agent doing its work as her body slowly lost its strength. She dug her nails into the back of the hand, making the servant loosen his grip. She pinched the napkin with her other hand’s nails to avoid direct skin contact and yanked it away. She turned around and got up in one movement, kicking the chair into the servant. She threw her hat away and reached behind her head to pull out her sharp hairpin, letting her golden hair billow and shine against the dim light of the arena.

Instead of heading for the exit full of armed guards, she lunged toward the elderly man and grabbed him by the neck, pushing and circling until he was faced with the guards. She pointed her hairpin at his neck. “Don’t move,” she said, pushing the sharp end into his flesh, a single drop of blood running down. “Otherwise, I can’t guarantee his safety.”

The servants and the guards paused, looking at each other, and then looking at the old man, waiting for him to speak. “Don’t mind me,” he said, and yawned. “Apologies. My old bones can’t keep up with you young ones these days. I need at least ten hours of sleep—“

Eva pushed the hairpin deeper, now with a stream of blood trailing down his neck. “Do you think I’m joking? I will do it, and I will not hesitate.”

The elderly man glanced back at her flippantly. “I don’t doubt you,” he said before looking back to the front, “but here’s what is really happening, lady: My days are already numbered; it doesn’t matter whether I die by your hands or die by falling down three steps of stairs. And to be honest, the former sounds like a much better alternative.” He yawned another time. “If you want to do it, just do it.”

Eva noticed her hands trembling. It was not because she was afraid, but because the incapacitating agent was draining her with every passing second.

“It seems like you don’t have much time,” said the old man.

“I want to ask you something,” said Eva, tightening her grip. “Why are you in this industry? Why not do something to better the world if you realize your time is running short?”

He replied instantly, “Why do you engage in pastime activities? To kill time and to feel better for yourself, essentially.”

Eva saw a sickening smile on his face even from behind, and he glanced back to show her the full repulsive and hideous expression.

“For me,” he said, widening his eyes, “seeing humans fight for their lives does both.”

Eva paused. “Is that so?” she said, then her eyes turned cold. “Then, I suppose killing you wouldn’t weigh down on my mind.” And she stabbed her hairpin deep into his neck, blood gushing out, and his voice became gurgling sounds.

“Sir Serpentine!” the servants and the guards yelled, rushing forward to her. She didn’t resist and let them hold her to the ground. Her eyes met the old man’s, and she noticed that he was smiling, even when he was facing his end.

She felt a dull pain at her nape for an instant, and the world went dark.