I woke to sunlight spilling through gauzy curtains, warm and soft and entirely unwelcome. My limbs felt like they were made of lead. Sleep had come, sure—but rest? Not even close. Every part of yesterday tangled like threads in a web. Disclaimer: I hate spiders...
A soft knock stirred me from the haze.
Seconds later, the maids glided in, efficient as ever, opening windows, setting out clothes, drawing the bathwater. I sat up, yawning into the back of my hand.
"Good morning, my lady," one of them said cheerfully.
"Morning," I mumbled, letting them go about their routine while I gathered the scraps of my composure.
As they laced my corset and smoothed my sleeves, the younger one—Nia, if I remembered right—paused like she had something to say but wasn't sure she should.
"Yes?" I prompted.
She flushed. "Your father left a reward for you, my lady."
I blinked. "A... reward?"
"Yes," the older maid added, eyes flicking toward the vanity. "A generous sum of gold coins."
I turned—and there it was. A gilded box I hadn't noticed before, resting on the vanity like a secret too shiny to stay hidden.
My heart thudded. I rose and crossed the room, fingers grazing the lid before I lifted it.
Inside lay more gold than I'd ever touched—hell, more than I'd seen in one place in my entire life. My past self would have fainted on the spot.
All that talk about port tariffs and shipping lanes had actually worked. My father had... rewarded me from his magic pocket full of money, right? A pocket full of money—needs to be!
Where else would a Duke running from the IRS get this type of fortune?
It felt impossible. Suspiciously generous, even. But having all this money in front of me made it clear how corrupt politicians were made, and today I was about to join them.
I ran my fingers over the coins, just to feel that they were real.
The door creaked open again, this time without a knock.
Leonard.
He leaned against the frame like he owned it, arms crossed, hair tousled in that half-brooding, half-bored way he'd perfected since birth. His expression wasn't quite annoyed, but it was far from pleased.
"Father asked me to accompany you today," he said flatly. "You're free to spend as you wish."
I shut the box carefully. "That's… unexpected." But absolutely welcome, though I didn't say it outright. Still, the corners of my mouth were trying to betray me.
Leonard shrugged, like even he didn't believe the situation. "He wants you to enjoy yourself."
Right. Enjoy myself. As much as I wanted to believe his words, I couldn't help but think there was something under the generosity. Maybe he's seeing how I'm going to prepare for the banquet.
"Well," I said, picking up the small box to my chest with newfound purpose. "Let's not waste time then." If the test does indeed come, let it find me drowning in coins~
...
The marketplace was chaos in color—calls from vendors, the aroma of spices and bread, and something frying in oil, fabrics rippling in the breeze like flags of temptation. I let myself drift from stall to stall, fingers brushing silks I'd never been allowed to even look at before, let alone buy them—in my previous life.
Leonard followed at a distance, arms folded as usual, scanning the crowd like a bodyguard who didn't want the job.
He was quiet. Too quiet. I glanced back at him briefly. At least he knew how to act in public. Maybe he even cared a little. Hard to tell.
I returned my attention to the dresses. Deep purples. Royal blues. A white one with embroidery so fine it felt like moonlight. I picked it all. Heels—sturdy ones. Jewelry. Hairpins.
Goodness, it felt good. Not just the wealth, but the power of choosing. Choosing for myself.
That's when I heard the commotion.
A crowd—forming in a particular spot.
I set the hairpin down. My fingers had gone still.
"Elisha," Leonard's voice came, clipped. A warning.
I ignored it.
My feet moved before my brain did, slipping between bodies, pressing toward the noise. Curious about what more this world can deliver.
And then—I saw it.
A man. Kneeling. Blood on his face. Ropes on his wrists.
An executioner beside him, axe in hand. Blank expression. Merciless crowd.
My breath caught in my throat.
"What—what's going on?" I asked, voice barely audible over the murmur of the spectators.
Leonard appeared beside me, jaw tight. "Treason. He spoke against the crown."
I stared at the man. Not much older than me. Face swollen, eyes swollen shut. Just a man. And he was about to die.
For just speaking?
I couldn't look away. Couldn't breathe. The air felt wrong, like I'd stepped out of a fantasy book and into something too real.
I whispered, "This is normal?"
Leonard's eyes didn't even flick toward me. "It is justice."
But all I saw was blood. Fear. Control.
This was the kingdom I was supposed to thrive in? This was what nobles casually walked past?
The executioner raised his axe.
I turned away just in time.
My hands were trembling.
And suddenly, all those dresses in my arms felt unbearably heavy.
"I guess you aren't used to seeing this," Leonard concluded, his hands already guiding me out of the execution site. "Let it be like that. Daughters of dukes are better off not having their hands dipped in blood..."