Cassie woke with the librarian’s words echoing in her mind. Restricted. Impossible. The weight of isolation pressed harder than ever as she dressed, her movements mechanical. Her quarters felt colder than usual, the rough fabric of her tunic grating against her skin as she fastened it with practiced efficiency.

The pale morning light filtered through the narrow window, casting the room in shades of gray. Cassie’s fingers brushed the ridges of her implants—a silent, unyielding reminder of her origins and the chasm that now separated her from them.

If the knowledge she sought was forbidden, she would find another way. There was no room for failure. If this world was to be hers now, she would survive it on her terms.

The library called to her like a magnet. Its towering shelves held more than just books—they held secrets. And secrets had power.

Slipping out of her quarters, Cassie moved through the quiet halls of the palace. Servants passed with hurried steps, their gazes fixed downward. Cassie mirrored their posture, blending into the rhythm of the place with deliberate ease.

Her pulse quickened as she reached the carved doors of the library. Yesterday’s failure gnawed at her, but today she wasn’t asking for magic—today, she would learn about the rules that governed this world. If magic was closed to her, she would master everything else.

The door groaned faintly as it opened, the sound swallowed by the vast quiet inside. Shadows lingered in the high arches, and the morning light spilled through tall windows, creating tendrils of gray.

The librarian sat at her desk, her silver hair catching the glow as she bent over a stack of parchment. Cassie stepped inside with measured confidence, acting as though she belonged.

“You’re persistent,” the woman said, her voice cool and sharp. “I’ll admit, I expected you back. Though I might have been more surprised if I didn’t already suspect who you are.”

Cassie froze, her brow furrowing slightly. “What do you mean?”

The librarian set her quill down, her movements deliberate. “It’s obvious. You used to be one of them.”

Cassie’s heart thudded in her chest. “One of who?” she asked carefully.

The librarian’s lips curved into a humorless smile. “A daughter. A former lady, fallen from grace. Even the finest silk, once burned, leaves a trace.”

The words struck like a blade. Cassie’s mind churned, the statement cutting deeper than she expected.

“You’re mistaken,” she said finally, though the words felt hollow.

“Am I?” the librarian replied, her gaze flicking over Cassie with clinical precision. “You’re too refined for a maid, and far too curious. Most servants wouldn’t dream of stepping into the library unless ordered. And most of them can’t read.”

Cassie’s breath caught, though she kept her face neutral. The woman’s words clawed at her memory: Lady Esther’s disdainful mutter, Another one of those. At the time, she had dismissed it. Now, the pieces began to align. Lady Esther had thought her a fallen noble.

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It explained more than remarks—it cast a new light on the healer’s kindness in the village. The way she’d offered help without asking for anything in return. The healer must have believed Cassie was like her: displaced, stripped of privilege, clinging to dignity amid ruin.

A kindred spirit.

Cassie’s jaw tightened. “I’m no noble,” she said flatly.

The librarian raised an eyebrow, amusement flickering in her cold eyes. “Then what are you?”

The question hung in the air like a noose. Cassie wanted to snap back—to tell the woman exactly what she was: a soldier, a survivor, a stranger in this world—but revealing the truth would only complicate things.

“I’m a maid,” she said, her voice steady. “Nothing more.”

The librarian’s sharp smile didn’t waver. “Of course,” she murmured, laced with disbelief. She returned to her parchment, her quill scratching softly against the surface. “And yet, here you are.”

Cassie exhaled, easing the tension in her shoulders just enough to think. Her gaze drifted to the shelves near the desk, their gilded spines gleaming faintly in the light. If magic was beyond her reach, she would begin with politics, history, and power—tools she could master.

“What do you know about this kingdom?” she asked, her tone measured.

The librarian’s quill stilled again. She looked up, her expression unreadable. “This kingdom?” she echoed, as though the question itself was an affront. “You mean the one you serve?”

“I mean the one I find myself in,” Cassie replied carefully. “I’d like to understand it better.”

The librarian leaned back, folding her hands neatly. Her sharp gaze pinned Cassie, weighing her worth. Finally, she spoke.

“Verona,” she said, her voice steeped in history. “The kingdom of a thousand years. Ruled by the bloodline of Theodosius, blessed—or so they claim—by the gods themselves. They maintain the wards that keep us safe from monsters. Its strength lies in magic, trade, and alliances. Its rot lies in its politics.”

The faint edge of disdain beneath her clinical tone wasn’t lost on Cassie.

“The current king, Theodomir, rules—technically,” the librarian continued. “He ascended after his elder brother’s untimely death. But Theodomir was born frail, too weak to appear in public often.” Her voice sharpened. “Most of the governing falls to Queen Lysandra. Unlike the previous queen, she is shrewd, calculating, and dangerous. Every law, every decision bears her mark—not his.”

The librarian paused, as though weighing her next words. “And then there’s her magic. It isn’t like what you’ve seen before. It’s… otherworldly. As expected of a saintess.”

Cassie frowned, filing the information away. “Magic,” she said carefully. “You mentioned it was restricted.”

“And it is,” the librarian replied, her tone cooling further. “Only those sanctioned by the Imperial Academy may wield it freely. To everyone else, it is forbidden. Dangerous.”

“Why?”

The librarian’s smile returned, sharp as a blade. “Why else? Power. Might controls everything. Without strength, you cannot protect anything.”

The words settled heavily in Cassie’s gut. She thought of Earth, the war that tore through its cities, and the machines that hunted them. There, power had been their enemy too—an unknowable force wielded against them.

Here, it was the same. Different faces. The same game.

Cassie’s gaze returned to the shelves, the volumes of carefully curated knowledge. Somewhere in this place lay the key to survival—a way to understand this world and carve out her path forward.

If the palace saw her as a fallen noble, so be it. She would use their assumptions, twist them to her advantage.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice firm. She met the librarian’s eyes for a lingering moment before stepping away.

As she moved deeper into the library, her fingers brushed the spines of ancient tomes. The scent of dust and old parchment filled the air. Each book whispered promises of knowledge, and her pulse quickened with anticipation.

Earth felt distant now, unreachable. Her gaze sharpened as she scanned the shelves, her eyes narrowing with each passing moment.

If this world was to be her battleground, she would make it her own.