"Nirelle, you are right," I admitted softly, my eyes fixed on the passing scenery outside the carriage window. "I lied to Sir Bertram... because I want to correct the mistakes I made in the past."
"My Lady…" Nirelle began, her voice hesitant, as if unsure whether to question me further.
But I cut her off gently. "Nirelle, don't worry. I will be fine—and I won't get hurt."
She hesitated, then nodded. "Yes, My Lady."
The carriage wheels rumbled steadily over the cobblestone road, and soon the towering gates of the Western Dukedom faded behind us. We were on the road toward the Imperial Capital.
The journey was long, but my mind hadn't been idle. For the past two weeks, I had buried myself in books—about this world's history, politics, and power. Thanks to Liora's haunting dreams of the future, I understood this Empire far more than I should have.
Back in my old life, I had been just an average student. But Liora… she had been brilliant, determined, top of her class. Her knowledge had become my weapon—and with it, I knew exactly how to stop my own death before it could claim me.
I would change everything.
I would live freely.
I would live happily.
And for that, I needed to meet the Emperor. I had to show him what I was doing, tell him what I needed, and ask for his help—because there was no one else in this Empire who could help me carry out my plan.
The carriage slowed. Nirelle peeked outside, then smiled faintly. "My Lady, your first destination has arrived."
I looked out the window and returned her smile. "Yes, you're right."
Pushing the door open, I stepped down from the carriage.
A knight with dark orange hair, black eyes, and a scar slashing across his right eye dismounted from his horse and approached. "My Lady," he said with a bow, "why are you outside the carriage? We haven't reached the capital yet."
"Yes, I know that, Sir Knight," I replied evenly.
He straightened and placed a fist over his chest. "I am Magnus Carrow. Forgive me, My Lady, but why have we stopped in front of the Corrupt Market?"
Another knight, standing just behind him, spoke quickly. "Do you need anything? Tell us, and we will bring it to you. You should stay inside the carriage."
I shook my head. "No, there's no need."
He frowned. "Then why stop here? This is the Corrupt Market—almost no one comes here! It's dangerous for you and everyone—do you—"
"Sir Magnus," I cut him off sharply. "I have business in this market. There's no need for you to come inside."
"What…?" the knight behind Magnus muttered, his tone bordering on disrespect.
The sound of it scraped against my patience. This man clearly didn't respect me—or my position. If I were the old Liora, I would have stayed silent and obeyed. But now… now I am Liora.
"You, behind Sir Magnus," I called out sharply. "Come forward."
The man stepped out, his faint scowl deepening. His eyes—black, cold, and condescending—looked down at me. He had light black hair and an air of boredom, as though even being here was a burden.
"What's your name?" I asked.
"Orin Vellore," he replied, arrogance dripping from his tone.
I met his gaze steadily. I knew his type—one who saw me as nothing but a pitiful, helpless girl.
"Sir Orin Vellore… who am I?"
He frowned. "What?"
"I said," my voice sharpened, "who am I?"
"You are Lady Liora," he answered reluctantly.
"And?"
His jaw tightened. "...Daughter of the Western Duke."
"Yes," I said, letting my voice carry weight. "I am the daughter of the Western Duke. And you are a knight sworn to the Western Dukedom, correct?"
"Yes."
"Then remember—Duke sent you here to protect me, not to interrupt or question me. I will go into this market, and your duty is to guard me. If you cannot obey that, you may leave now."
The other knights exchanged startled looks. Orin froze.
Turning to Nirelle, I said, "Bring me a long black cloak." She quickly handed it to me, and I slipped it over my shoulders. "Let's go, Nirelle."
Magnus stepped forward, his tone firm but respectful. "My Lady, forgive my insistence, but it may be dangerous to enter alone. Allow us to accompany you."
"I only need something from inside," I told him. "Nirelle and I will be back in ten minutes. There's no need to worry."
"I'm sorry, My Lady," Magnus said with quiet resolve. "But I cannot agree to that. The Duke sent us for your safety. If you wish, you may take one or two knights, but not go alone."
I sighed. "Fine. I'll take you, Sir Magnus—just you—and Nirelle."
Magnus bowed slightly. "Gladly, My Lady."
We stepped into the market together. The air was thick with strange scents—spices, smoke, and something faintly metallic.
"Do you know what kind of place this is, My Lady?" Magnus asked as we walked.
"Yes," I replied with a small smile. "I know exactly what kind of place it is… and exactly where we're heading."
We wove through narrow stalls until I turned down a dim alley. Though I had never been here, the old Liora had—often. Seeking rare books, forbidden information… desperate for answers about why she lacked healing magic.
But that wasn't why I had come.
I was here for something I needed now.
We stopped before a shimmering portal.
"Sir Magnus, place your sword and any other equipment here," I instructed, pointing to a narrow slot beside it.
He looked at me in confusion. "My Lady?"
"It's safe. When we return, you'll find it here."
"How do you know so much about this market?" he asked.
I only smiled and stepped forward.
We passed through the portal. On the other side stood a ghostly-looking shop, its shelves heavy with dust, its books and oddities untouched by time. Yet the couches in the corner were spotless, as if awaiting a guest.
"This is the shop," I said quietly. "The place where I can get what I need."
We entered.
"Sir Magnus, have a seat," I told him. "I'll return shortly."
At the counter sat an elderly couple, their faces lined with decades—perhaps a century—of life. Their eyes were
sharp, unclouded despite their age.
The old woman spoke first. "Child… who are you? And why have you come here?"
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