The sky was just starting to light up when Silver made her move. She didn't waste no time, knowing the Duke he might return to the North any day, plus she couldn't get ahold of Ren, and her father was always busy.
"Your Majesty, sneaking out of the palace is unthinkable!" Natasha whispered harshly as they snuck into the back corridor where a secret passage was hidden. Silver had asked her to prepare a commoner's cloth in advance so they could mix in with the civilians, but instead, she prepared a silk dyed in muted gray, refusing to budge even at the last minute. According to her, making her wear a commoner's cloth is a crime punishable by death.
"You might as well execute me here, Your Majesty!" was what she said, so Silver had no choice but to comply.
Silver took out the crumpled note in her hand that she had so carefully drawn, based on what she recalled from the novel and the snippets of memory from Hiraya. They were using the passage Hiraya created when she would often meet with her secret army.
When they arrived at the secret place in a back garden, Silver ran her fingers along the wall covered in algae, but some parts had visible marks, and there it was—she pushed one of the bricks. The whole wall vibrated as the bricks opened up and created an exit.
"See?" she proudly whispered. Natasha and Mila, who was loyally following her, facepalmed.
She winked at them and tugged the hood low over her head before stepping inside the wall.
"Your Majesty! What if a guard catches us?" Mila whispered in a timid voice.
Silver gave her a weak grin. "Then you two drag me back before the guards notice I'm missing."
The two of them exchanged worried glances, but they followed her anyway, despite their protests.
Loyalty was a funny thing—sometimes it looked like obedience, sometimes like love, and sometimes like watching your mistress walk into a fire with a bucket of water that was clearly too small to put it out.
The narrow path they entered smelled faintly of coal and damp stone, just as it was described in the book. They carefully treaded through the bricks, listening for every click with utmost precision. One wrong step could cost them their lives—that's how carefully Hiraya had planned that place out. Silver was just happy that part was clear in Hiraya's memories; if not, they would have been long gone by now.
Silver felt a small tug in her heart—the guilt of acting so familiar in a body she didn't own was slowly eating her. But it was too late for that. She couldn't go back to the way it was; the only thing she could do was atone for her sins by making sure everyone Hiraya cared about would be safe.
She would live the happy and carefree life they both longed for.
By some miracle—or maybe because heaven owed her one—they passed through the outer gardens without triggering a single trap.
The air outside the walls was sharp, the scent of earth and smoke replacing the suffocating perfume of marble halls. It was her first time outside the palace walls since she woke up in this world. She never felt that free in a long time.
A carriage Silver had Natasha prepare in advance waited in the shadows beyond the gate. No crest, no markings—just wood dulled by years of use and a driver whose eyes darted nervously.
A perfect disguise.
"Get in," she ordered softly, though her knees were already wobbling from all the pressure of the dangerous pathway.
The moment the door shut, Natasha finally exhaled, collapsing against the seat.
"By all saints… this is mad. Absolutely mad."
"Mad?" Silver managed a crooked smile.
"You are with the second highest authority in the empire..." she boasted proudly.
"And the highest authority will definitely kill us if he finds out, Your Majesty," Natasha cut in.
Silver pouted and leaned back on her seat, unable to defend herself.
The carriage lurched forward, wheels crunching against the dirt road. The extra cushion Mila arranged helped her with the car sickness, or carriage sickness, whatever it's called. However, it was still nerve-wracking as she didn't expect a carriage would be that wobbly.
She looked out the window at the parade of trees. For the first time in what felt like centuries, she could somehow breathe.
The city was already stirring by the time they reached the outer streets. Stalls were starting to open, the people were already bustling in the streets, and the smell of baking bread drifted into the air. It all felt familiar to her.
There was no difference in how people lived from her previous world, only it was missing the chemical smell of engines from the streets.
She leaned forward, peering through the window. "The Duke," she muttered. "We should look for the Duke..."
Silver didn't have a plan on how to meet the Duke. She could only rely on her luck.
Natasha's brows knitted. "The Duke is not the kind of person who loiters around the market, Your Majesty."
She smirked faintly. "We wouldn't know."
The carriage suddenly jerked to a halt, throwing the three of them forward.
"Why are we stopping?" Natasha hissed.
Silver peered out the window to see what was happening. Seeing the people crowding in a specific place made her curious, so her eyes followed the commotion.
Just ahead, in the middle of the road, a stout man in an embroidered coat—luxury only nobles could afford—shoved a boy to the ground. The lad—no older than the age she started working—curled around himself while the man's boot continuously slammed into his ribs.
"You dirty rat!" the noble spat. "You think you can cheat me? I'll have your whole family flogged!"
The boy didn't dare defend himself. He just accepted the beating, his eyes lifeless, as if he had already surrendered to his fate.
Silver's blood surged hot. The boy's face—against her will—triggered some unpleasant memories. He was on the street, she was in the office. Same cruelty, same people with different faces, both turning a blind eye, not a shred of pity. They were just glad it wasn't them.
"Stop here," she ordered the coachman.
She gripped the wooden frame of the carriage, trying to calm her trembling hand.
Natasha grabbed her sleeve as she attempted to stand up. "Your Majesty, no! Please—"
But she was already shoving the door open. The air outside was heavy with dust and noise, but the whole crowd was a blur as she rushed toward the beaten boy. She held the boy against her arm amid the murmuring crowds; his lips were busted. His face was full of new and half-healed bruises. This proved that such treatment was a normal occurrence.
Silver bit her lower lip.
"Oi!" the noble snapped, tugging at her back with his feet.
"Great! Another filthy beggar playing knight!"
Silver pulled her hood lower to mask her face as she stood to face him.
"Hurting someone weaker than you..." Silver paused, scanning the man up and down.
"Does this boost your ego?"
Gasps rippled through the onlookers. She knew exactly what those curious stares meant. She had experienced it countless times. She knew whoever tried to fight against someone with power was bound to meet the same fate.
The noble sneered. "A filthy wench? Who do you think you are, standing in front of the great Viscount Viscaya?!" he proudly muttered, curling his beard as if the name was enough to send anyone groveling at his feet. Silver gritted her teeth.
She took a step forward. "Tell me, are you one of those who think nobility is measured by how loudly you trample others? That cruelty makes you strong?"
The viscount's smirk faltered, and his face twisted. "How dare you—"
"How dare you," Silver snapped back.
Her chest was starting to feel tight, her heart beating so hard it was threatening to escape her chest. Her hands were trembling, and the veins in her head felt like they were about to burst.
"Do you think your title makes you strong? My father shoulders the Empire because weaklings like you can't lift anything but your own ego. He bleeds so you can sleep safe, and this is how you repay him? By tormenting those who can't fight back?"
"If that's the case, you might as well march toward the border and feed yourself to the demons to satiate their hunger! By then, you can better serve the Empire!"
The streets fell silent. All eyes were on them. Silver glanced at the boy who was being consoled by Natasha.
The viscount's face darkened with rage. His ears turned red.
"Do you even know who I am?" he shouted.
"I should be asking that. Do you know who I am?"
Silver raised her arm and lowered the hood that was covering her face.
Gasps tore through the crowd.
Pale skin. A sharp mole beneath her eye. Hair as black as the night sky, a trait only those of imperial blood possess.
The face everyone in the Empire knew, whether they loved or pitied her. Whether they respected or hated her.
The noble blanched. His face turned ghostly pale. "Y-Your Majesty—"
"On your knees," she ordered coldly. The viscount instantly collapsed to his knees, stammering apologies she never bothered to listen to.
"I will never forget this day. When you stand before my father and explain why you thought tormenting the weak made you noble, I'll be there to hear your answer."
"Natasha, take this boy back to the palace," she ordered, and Mila and Natasha followed.
"I...I will be the one explaining this to my father," she tried to speak between breaths, but she was tumbling through the words. She grabbed her chest; each breath felt like razor pieces slowly piercing her heart. She winced in pain.
A warm liquid fell from her nose. She tried to wipe it away with the back of her hand, but it was now stained with red liquid. Her chest heaved.
"Natasha…" she gasped.
Natasha lunged forward to try and catch her, but her knees already gave out.
Her world turned to blur—the shouts echoing through her ears.
Silver closed her eyes, steeling herself for the impact of the concrete road.
And then—arms. Strong, steady arms wrapped around her waist before she could hit the ground.
Through the haze, she forced her eyes open.
White hair gleamed against the sun. His eyes, red as rubies, bored into hers.
For a heartbeat, the world narrowed to that gaze. The man picked her up from her knees as she wrapped her arms around his neck.
He looked down at her, and the corner of his mouth curled. His gaze softened.
"Reckless," he murmured.
And everything went black.