"The carriage is ready, My Lady," Lady Octavi announced, returning from the rear and holding the flap open. "We must depart now."
I stood up, smoothing my skirt. But before I took a step, I paused.
"Cassius and Valerie?" I asked.
"They are waiting by the weapon racks, My Lady," Octavi replied. "They will ride with the main army when your parents return."
"No," I stated. "They come with me."
Octavi blinked. "Come with you? Does it mean they will ride beside your carriage?"
"Inside. With me."
She blinked again, her knightly composure cracking slightly. "My Lady, at this event… to let them sit beside you inside the carriage will cause a scene for the crowd and nobles. It is unheard of."
"I do not care about crowds, and I certainly do not care about propriety," I snapped. "They are the Retinue that I hired. I will not leave them behind here."
I looked at Octavi, my eyes hard.
"Retrieve them. Tell them to leave the horses. They ride with us."
"As you wish," Octavi bowed.
…
A few moments later, I walked out of the pavilion. I didn't look at the dais or the crowd. I walked straight to the white carriage bearing the Aurelius Crest.
Cassius and Valerie were there, looking distinctly out of place in their rough leather armor against the pristine white lacquer of the carriage.
I climbed inside.
"Get in," I ordered them.
Cassius hesitated, looking at his muddy boots and the murmuring crowd. "My Lady, are you sure?"
"Get. In."
They obeyed.
The carriage was full. I sat on one side. Lady Octavi sat beside me. Cassius and Valerie took the velvet bench opposite us, filling the delicate cabin with the scent of leather, sweat, and iron. Adel took her place on the coachman's bench outside.
"Drive," Octavi ordered through the window.
The carriage pushed forward with a jolt.
I leaned my head against the velvet cushion, turning my gaze to the small window. As we gathered speed, the main path of the encampment rolled past.
And there he was.
Fabian.
He was still standing where I had left him. He was staring at the ground, frozen. Lady Anna stood a few paces behind him, clutching the dagger.
The sound of our departure finally snapped his head up.
He looked right at the carriage. He saw me in the window.
His eyes widened. He took a step forward, his mouth opening as if to call out, to beg for another chance.
But I didn't stop.
I reached out and pulled the curtain shut with a sharp swish.
"He saw you," Octavi said quietly beside me. "He saw you leave him."
"Good," I replied.
"The Court will call this a scandal, My Lady," Valerie noted, leaning back with a grin that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Leaving the Prince in the dust? That's a declaration of independence if I've ever seen one."
"It is not a declaration of independence," I said, my voice heavy with exhaustion but sharp with intent. "It is a realignment of priorities."
I rested my head back against the cushion, but my eyes did not close. Instead, they drifted onto Valerie.
She sat in front of me. She seemed at ease, grinning at the chaos we had left behind. But I saw the tension in her shoulders. The way her hand tapped rhythmically on her thigh.
"Speaking of priorities," I whispered. "We need to discuss yours, Valerie."
Her grin didn't fade, but her eyes hardened into flint. "Mine, My Lady?"
I straightened up.
"Duchess Valerie Valerius," I said the name deliberately. "The Iron Maiden. She stopped for you."
The air in the carriage grew instantly heavier.
Cassius, sitting beside her, stiffened. He shifted his weight, putting his shoulder slightly in front of hers. A protective instinct. Like he was trying to shield her from the memory of the Duchess.
"She stared at you as if she were seeing a ghost," I continued, my voice low and relentless. "She called you a 'Wolf lost from her pack'. Why?"
Valerie looked away, feigning interest in the passing trees outside the window. "Maybe she just liked my armor. Or maybe she confused me with someone else. I have a common face."
"You do not have a common face," Octavi interjected, her voice cool. Her eyes were fixed on a hidden dagger sheathed at Valerie's waist.
"And you do not move like a common sellsword," Octavi added. "I watched you at the weapon racks. You stand at rest, but your weight is perfectly balanced. The case is the same with Cassius. That is not tavern-brawl instinct. That is drilled discipline. That is Academy training. Or maybe… something forged inside the walls of a Castle."
Valerie shifted. "You flatter me…"
"I do not flatter," Octavi replied coldly. "I identify dangers."
"And the name," I cut in. "Valerie. And Duchess Valerie."
"It's a popular name in the North," Valerie shrugged, though her hands gripped her knee tight enough to whiten the knuckles.
I turned my gaze to Cassius.
"You stepped between her and the Duchess," I recalled. "You looked terrified. Not of her killing Valerie… But like you were scared of her taking her."
I leaned forward.
"A wolf lost from her pack," I repeated the Duchess's words. "That implies you belong to her pack, Valerie. Are you a deserter of the Phalanx? Or are you something more dangerous? You sit in this carriage with a posture that suggests you were born to command it."
No one spoke. The silence stretched, filled only by the rattle of wheels and the heavy breathing of four people with too many secrets.
Valerie finally looked at me fully. For the first time, I saw the resemblance. Not just in the face, but in the eyes. The same cold, steel-grey intensity I had seen in the Duchess. However, her face was still raw, far from the polished, frozen facade the Duchess presented.
"If I were something dangerous," Valerie asked softly, her hand hovering inches from her blade, "would you throw me out of this carriage?"
Cassius held his breath. Octavi's hand tightened on her own hilt.
I looked at her. I saw the threat. I saw the lineage. And I saw the immense power she held.
Leverage.
"Depends…" I replied, my voice devoid of fear. "You already know my House secret of Transmutation… I am maybe not throwing you out…"
I leaned closer, my voice dropping to a whisper. "But eliminating you…"
She froze.
Her instinct was to reach for her blades, but she stopped. Her eyes darted to the side, locking onto Octavi.
Octavi hadn't moved a muscle. She sat perfectly still, her breathing calm. Yet her hand was resting loosely on the hilt of her sword. In this confined space, Valerie knew Octavi could take her head before she even unsheathed her weapon.
She slowly moved her hand away from her waist. She raised her hands slightly in a gesture of surrender.
"Point taken, My Lady," she said, her voice tight. "The Knight would have my head before I could blink."
I held her gaze.
"Does the House of Valerius have a claim on you?"
She hesitated. She looked at Cassius. He gave a nearly imperceptible nod—a silent permission to trust.
She looked back at me.
"Let's just say," she whispered, "that the North is a cold place to grow up, My Lady. And sometimes, a Wolf prefers to hunt alone rather than run with the pack."
I exhaled slowly. She hadn't said the words 'Heir' or 'Daughter', but she had said enough. I would find her origin and story in the Book.
"Good," I whispered, closing my eyes again. "Then we are all lost wolves here."
…
The carriage rolled to a halt in front of the house.
Octavi opened the door, stepping out first to scan the perimeter. The sun was beginning to dip, casting long, bruised shadows across the white stone of my home. My parents were not here; they would remain at the Royal Encampment for the Closing Feast.
I stepped out, the cool evening air doing little to soothe the tightness in my chest. Cassius and Valerie followed.
I watched them leave toward the guest quarters. Once they disappeared around the corner of the manor, I turned to Octavi.
"My Lady," Octavi said, her voice low. "Is she really the daughter of Duchess Valerie? If she is, the Duchess asked you a question: 'What do you intend to do with her?' She was not just asking for conversation. She was weighing you."
"I know," I said, gathering my skirts. "And I need the Book to tell me the right answer."
I walked into the house, ignoring the confused bows of the servants. I ascended the stairs and reached my room. I went straight to the desk. Adel was already standing beside the door, guarding it.
I flipped through the pages until I found the entry regarding the North.
761 NE-12-09
The Main Character encountered two mercenaries in the tavern. Their encounter binds the Main Character to the Cold War of the North. Between Three Daughters and the line of the Throne.
"Three daughters," I whispered.
These two mercenaries were Cassius and Valerie. It meant Valerie was the Line for the Throne.
I read further down the page.
The Wolf's den is not empty. Behind the Iron Maiden stand two shadows. The Second, a wall of silence. The Third, a blade of ambition. Without the 'Stolen Iron' to bind them, the pack devours itself.
The Third seeks the throne, sparking a Cold War that freezes the North. The Second watches, holding the line but refusing to lead. If the Heir returns unprepared, the ice cracks, and the civil war begins.
I stopped reading, my finger tracing the line about the Third.
"Three daughters," I repeated.
Valerie wasn't just a runaway wolf. She was the Stolen Iron. The Heir.
I continued reading the solution provided for the Main Character.
By returning the Heir to the Mother, the Main Character does not merely restore a daughter. She must act as the Bridge. She must diffuse the Cold War, forcing the Third to kneel and bringing the Second to stand. By reinstating the Heir, the Main Character gains the Duchess's favor and the unbreakable shield of the Phalanx.
I leaned back in my chair, the realization settling over me like a heavy cloak.
It wasn't as simple as holding Valerie hostage.
If I kept Valerie here, the Third Sister would likely seize the opportunity to claim the heirship. If the Third was ambitious, she might align with the Royals to secure her position.
Yet if I returned Valerie now, without "diffusing the Cold War," I would just be throwing her into a pit of serpents. The Book said her return would make it worse unless managed perfectly.
"It is a mess," I whispered.
"What is a mess, My Lady?" Adel asked, suddenly beside me.
"The timeline," I whispered, tapping the page with a trembling finger. "I broke it again."
"Broke it?" Adel asked, her brow furrowing.
"Look." I pointed to the date entry for the North. "The Book says the Main Character encounters the Heir in the 12th Month. But it is only the 8th Month, Adel. I found her four months too early."
"First of all, who is the Heir?" Adel asked. Then she gasped. "Do you mean Valerie is the Heir of the North?"
"Precisely."
"However, is the North the next event of the Book, My Lady?"
I flipped the page to see the current timeline. Where was the story supposed to go next?
The Grand Tournament of the South. 761 NE-09-01.
The Duke of the South hosts a festival of lances and roses. The Crown Prince attends to heal his wounded pride. The Main Character shines in the stands, winning the favor of the Southern Court.
"The South," I whispered.
"The South… You mean the Tournament?" Adel asked.
"Yes," I corrected, my mind racing. "The North is supposed to be later. In deep winter."
Adel leaned closer to the Book. "Bright colors. Jousts. Low-stakes romance," she summarized. She turned to me. "It means you have three months to prepare for the North, My Lady."
"No," I corrected, standing up and pacing. "Not three months to prepare. Three months to wait."
I walked back and forth, the rhythm helping me think.
"The Book wants Fabian and the Main Character to go South. It wants them to play out their fairytale in the sun. And it expects me to follow, to sit in the stands and seethe with jealousy while they win the crowd."
"And if you do not go?" Adel asked.
"If I go South, I am walking onto a stage that is already set for my defeat," I realized. "I will be the Villainess in their story. But the North…"
I stopped.
"We know the South Arc's Main Character is likely Lady Anna. However, the North Arc isn't supposed to happen yet. Nona hasn't assigned a 'Main Character' there because the conflict hasn't started. The Third Sister is plotting… but the role of the Savior is empty."
My eyes widened.
"Imagine if I go North… and Lady Anna goes South."
Adel's eyes widened as the realization hit her.
"It will prove the theory of the Main Character as a Placeholder," she whispered. "Because Nona will have to appoint her Paragons to fulfill the Main Character role in the South."
"Exactly," I said, a cold thrill taking hold of me. "But the North will be empty."
I stood tall, the plan forming perfectly in my mind.
"The story will be split in two. The South will have Lady Anna as the Main Character, playing out a romance in the sun. But the North… if I step into that vacuum now…"
My voice suddenly dropped to a low, cold tone.
"I force Nona to play the game on my terms. I will not wait for the narrative of the Book. Instead, I will make a new conflict in the Book."