Flames roared in the room — wild and untamed — smoke curling like dark serpents along the walls. Liora stumbled toward the broken door, coughing, clutching her injured foot. The pain throbbed, sharp and relentless, but not as sharp as the ache in her chest.
She looked outside—through the thick, gray haze—and her gaze landed on a figure in the hallway.
Cedric.
He stood at the entrance of her room, staring at her. His face, tense with urgency, locked eyes with hers.
For a heartbeat, her heart fluttered.
He came for me…
But then—just beside him—she saw Renald.
And Lilith.
Renald stood protectively beside Lilith, holding her hand.
Liora's heart cracked.
Her lips parted in disbelief, and a whisper slipped out, barely audible over the crackling flames:
"So I really am... the leftover."
Tears pricked her eyes, the smoke stinging them further as she stepped back from the door.
They saved her first… because she's the important one now. Not me. Never me.
Lilith had been right all along.
If I disappeared… no one would care.
A hollow laugh escaped her lips as she watched the flames curl toward the ceiling.
"I'm the stupidest girl in the world," she murmured. "Just seeing Cedric panic a little… I thought it meant he cared about me."
Maybe they were just worried about the fire.
Maybe… someone else entirely.
"Liora!!" Cedric's voice pierced through the smoke. "Go near the window! We're preparing a safety net! When we give the signal, jump! You'll be safe!"
She looked at him, eyes dull, and smiled faintly through the tears.
"Haa… there's no need," she murmured, just loud enough. "I finally understand now."
And she turned her back on him and sat on the bed.
"Liora, what are you doing?!" Cedric shouted, his voice rising with fury and fear. "Have you lost your mind?! Get up and do what I told you—now!"
Liora turned her head slowly, locking eyes with him again. Her voice was broken, but clear.
"I did everything you told me. Even when I didn't want to. I gave everything—for this family. I bought gifts, hosted guests, practiced until I couldn't breathe. Not for me. For you all. Because I thought… if I tried hard enough… if I became perfect… you'd finally see me."
She swallowed hard.
"I've pushed my limits again and again just to catch a glimpse of your approval. And when I got even a flicker of joy… I clung to it. But now…"
A tear slid down her cheek.
"I can't even smile. Happiness… feels like a distant land I'll never reach."
Her voice cracked.
"Today, for the second time, I've realized just how deeply people hate me. How badly they want me gone."
Lilith stepped forward then, eyes wide and teary.
"Liora—what are you saying?! Please, listen! We can still save you!"
She pressed a hand to her mouth as tears streamed down her cheeks.
Liora looked at her, searching—desperately—for truth.
But what she saw was… a flicker in Lilith's eyes.
Something… bright.
A spark of relief?
No… surely not.
And then—Renald's voice cut through the tension.
"Lilith, stop crying," he muttered, then turned to Liora with irritation.
"Hey, are you insane? What kind of nonsense are you saying? Just do what Cedric told you. Or do you want to die? We have more important things to do!"
Cedric's glare snapped toward Renald—cold and furious.
Renald scoffed. "Tsk." He turned his head away.
"Liora," Cedric said again, this time softer. "We'll talk about this later. Just go to the window. You're not thinking clearly."
Liora slowly pushed herself up from the bed, wincing from the pain in her foot.
But she just laughed—a low, bitter sound.
"There's no need," she said. "You should all go."
Cedric's eyes widened. "What…?"
Renald blinked. "What did you just say?"
"I said go!" Liora's voice rose, trembling with emotion. "Go and attend to your important work! Let me rest. Let me finally rest."
"Liora, don't do this," Cedric pleaded. "We'll talk—"
"I don't want to talk anymore!" she snapped. "I don't want to listen, or wait, or hope. I just want… peace."
She limped to her wardrobe, coughing violently as the smoke thickened. With trembling hands, she began pulling out her dresses—gowns of shimmering silk, adorned with jewels, all perfectly folded.
As she whispered,
"I'm tired. Tired of trying. Tired of smiling. Tired of working so hard to be someone I'm not,"
she stepped toward the fire.
Her gaze met theirs—Cedric, Renald, Lilith—one last time.
And she smiled.
Then, without hesitation, she threw her dresses into the fire.
The expensive fabric caught instantly—flames leapt higher, bright orange and gold licking toward the ceiling.
The blast of heat shoved Cedric back into the hallway.
Renald reached out to help—but Cedric slapped his hand away.
"Stop her!" he shouted. "She doesn't want to live—stop her!!"
But smoke swallowed the room whole.
Liora's coughing turned violent—her knees buckled.
And then… she collapsed.
Flames danced around her like they had claimed her as their own.
And as the fire closed in, Liora looked into the heart of the flame—her only warmth—and reached out to touch it.
It kissed her palm.
She didn't flinch.
There was no scream.
No emotion left on her face.
Just silence…
And flames.
---
GASP.
My body jolted upright, drenched in cold sweat. My breathing came in ragged bursts.
My hands trembled violently as I pressed them to my face.
"That memory…" I whispered. "It felt so real. Like I was back there again… like it's happening all over again."
My whole body trembled.
Creak.
The door opened gently.
I flinched. My head snapped toward the sound.
"Lady Liora?" came Sir Bertram's soft voice. "May I come in?"
I nodded shakily, wiping my forehead. "Yes, Sir Bertram… come in."
He stepped inside, concern lining his face.
"My lady… are you alright? I called your name several times, but you didn't answer. That's why I opened the door without permission."
"It's alright," I said quietly. "I… I just had a nightmare. That's all."
Bertram's eyes scanned the sweat on my skin.
"Shall I call the physician, just in case?"
I shook my head.
"No, no. Truly, I'm fine now. You don't need to worry."
He nodded, though doubt lingered in his expression.
Then he stepped forward.
"I've brought pen, ink, paper, a seal, and a fresh envelope for letter writing, as you requested."
He placed the items gently on the desk, dipped the pen in ink, and handed it to me.
My fingers trembled.
The memory still clung to me—like smoke that refused to fade.
But I took a deep breath… and grasped the pen anyway.
Then I smiled—faint, but genuine—and looked up at him.
"Tell me, Sir Bertram… how do I begin a formal letter to the Emperor?"
He hesitated.
"My lady… may I ask… is this letter related to the
Crown Prince? Or… your engagement?"
I looked at him for a long moment.
And then… I laughed softly.
Bertram blinked, confused.
But I didn't explain.
I simply smiled…
And dipped my pen.
---