❈.❈.❈

This place is huge.

Of course it was.

G6 followed Tina through seemingly endless corridors toward the garden, the stone beneath her thin soles making every step feel increasingly irritating.

“How much longer? These heels are a tactical liability.”

She lifted her skirts slightly.

“Lady Reise, a lady does not hike her gown.”

If this exhausting woman saw my old wardrobe, she would probably die of a heart attack.

“We are here.”

Tina nodded toward a distant gazebo.

G6’s stomach tightened, not with fear or excitement, but with the familiar surge of adrenaline that came with uncertainty.

She drew in a slow breath and let the tension drain from her shoulders.

Four people waited beneath the gazebo.

She knew the names, roles, and magic associated with them.

The problem was that the book had not provided useful portraits.

Somewhere among the three noblemen in black sat Lord Earl of House Nocturne, associated with Earth Magic; Lord Keith of House De Lune, associated with Water Magic; and Prince Dio himself, the royal heir with Fire.

Miss Eliza was easier. The commoner carrying Benedictio sat among them.

That left the men.

G6 approached.

The gazebo grew quiet.

Pink silk gleamed beneath the afternoon light as she walked, her steps measured and controlled. Her grey eyes swept across the gathering in assessment rather than awe.

Prince Dio’s polite smile stiffened.

Since when did Reise walk like that? Prince Dio thought.

G6 stopped at the bottom step.

Miss Eliza looked down at her with polite curiosity.

G6 examined the three men.

All of them were dressed in black.

Which one is the Prince?

Her fingers twitched faintly for a gun that was not there.

The book had described Prince Dio as stunning in black, with fire in his eyes.

That description had been considerably less useful than expected.

They are all in black. Is this a funeral or a fashion statement?

Her gaze dropped to their clothing.

Crest pins.

Tina had said they always wore them.

G6 squinted.

How the hell am I supposed to know each family crest?

She looked over the three men again.

Fine. The most arrogant-looking one is usually the one in charge.

A gamble.

Her gaze settled on the man beside Miss Eliza.

That has to be him.

Silence stretched long enough to become awkward.

Then G6 lifted her chin and ascended the steps as though nothing had happened.

“Pardon me. I was prioritizing.”

Her tone was arrogantly flat.

Lord Earl and Lord Keith both snickered.

Prince Dio remained outwardly unmoved, though his eyes followed her.

G6 scanned the available seats.

There was an empty chair beside Prince Dio.

She passed it without hesitation and sat opposite him instead, beside Lord Earl.

Prince Dio’s teacup stopped halfway to his lips.

A small droplet of water Lord Keith had already been idly maintaining above one finger slipped from his control and fell straight into his lap.

Miss Eliza blinked.

G6 looked at all of them.

What are they staring at? Don’t drag me into your soap opera.

Her attention shifted toward the table.

Desserts.

Tina did not feed me breakfast. Is this a starvation tactic?

She pointed toward the cupcake in front of Lord Keith.

“You. Hand that over.”

Lord Keith blinked.

He looked at the cupcake, then at G6, and finally at Prince Dio.

A familiar smirk slowly spread across his face.

“Reise, darling. Is that how you greet someone after three years? Forget your place? Or are you saving your energy for your real purpose here?”

He glanced toward Lord Earl.

“Swooning? Fainting? The vital work of the strongest Pillar.”

He is starting. My hand wants a trigger.

G6’s eyes locked onto his.

“My purpose is that cupcake,” she said, completely devoid of heat. “The magic word is ‘now.’”

The taunt died where it stood.

Lord Earl snorted and disguised it as a cough.

Lord Keith’s grin widened.

Apparently, he had found a new game.

He placed the cupcake in front of her.

“By all means. Would not want to interfere.”

G6 took it and bit into it, taking such an ungracefully large bite that pink frosting smudged against her cheek.

Lord Earl reached toward her with a napkin.

G6 slapped his hand away without looking.

“Keep your hands to yourself. Not everything pretty is meant to be touched.”

Her tone made the warning clear.

Lord Earl withdrew his hand.

Lord Keith, ever the instigator, leaned forward.

“By the way, Reise… notice the lady sitting beside your fiancé?”

He gestured toward Miss Eliza like a ringmaster.

“Miss Eliza. The one with the lost magic.”

G6 finally looked at her.

Prince Dio watched in silence.

Miss Eliza offered a strained smile.

“Yo. I am Reise.”

G6 wiped the frosting from her cheek.

Miss Eliza blinked.

“Y-yo…?”

Prince Dio slowly lowered his cup, his previously bored gaze sharpening.

Lord Keith immediately continued.

“Are you not going to ask what a commoner is doing here? Or why she is so close to your beloved?”

His smirk widened.

“I would have thought you would be… jealous.”

Near the stairs, Tina stiffened.

He said the J-word. Brace yourself, Tina thought.

Everyone looked toward G6.

This was the moment they had apparently been waiting for.

The old Reise would have shattered.

G6 finished chewing.

She wiped her fingers in clean, efficient strokes before looking first at Lord Keith, then Miss Eliza, and finally Prince Dio.

“Jealous?” she repeated. “Of what, exactly?”

Lord Keith blinked.

“Her… proximity to your fiancé?”

G6’s gaze moved briefly over Prince Dio before returning to Lord Keith as though the question itself were stupid.

“If a title and a pretty face were enough to steal him, he would have been stolen a hundred times.”

She lifted her tea.

“He is a prince. It is his job to have options.”

G6 took a slow sip, the unconscious grace of the gesture clashing sharply with the bluntness of her words.

“Policing his seat is a waste of energy.”

She gave a small shrug.

“If he wants to be stolen, let him. It only proves his poor taste and saves me future annoyance.”

The gazebo went silent.

Lord Earl’s biscuit slipped from his fingers and broke against his plate, while Lord Keith’s mouth fell open and Miss Eliza simply stared.

Prince Dio watched her without speaking.

The sheer pragmatism of the statement left him momentarily without a response. There was no affection in it, but no hatred either. She had called him a future annoyance and somehow made the conclusion sound completely reasonable.

Nailed it.

G6 took another sip.

Also, this tea tastes like lawn clippings.

Tina remained near the stairs, staring.

…She has a point, Tina thought.

Lord Keith leaned toward Lord Earl.

“Earl. My entire purse. She just called the King’s son a future annoyance to his face.”

Lord Earl did not answer.

He was still studying Reise.

G6 ignored them both.

Her attention had fallen on the teapot.

It was delicate, expensive-looking, and badly designed.

She picked it up, not by the handle but by the body, testing its balance in her hand.

Tina’s eyes widened.

No. What is she doing now?

“This is a terrible design.”

Everyone looked at her.

“The center of gravity is wrong.”

G6 turned the teapot slightly.

“One clumsy servant and it tips. Probably on me.”

She looked toward Tina.

“Tell them to replace it. Lower. Wider base. Function over form.”

After a brief pause, she added,

“Save the servant their head.”

She set it back down with a soft clink.

Prince Dio finally spoke.

“Reise… what has gotten into you?”

G6 met his eyes, her expression calm.

“Fuck of—”

“Ahem!”

Tina cleared her throat loudly.

G6 paused.

“I mean… clarity?”

The gazebo fell silent again.

Prince Dio could not look away.

The woman before him looked exactly like Reise Worthon, yet nothing about the way she carried herself felt familiar.

The old Reise had worn every emotion openly. Anger, jealousy, adoration, humiliation—everything had always been visible.

This Reise seemed almost unnervingly contained.

G6, meanwhile, had already returned her attention to the food.

She finished her scone, wiped her fingers, and stood.

“The tea was subpar. And this is boring.”

It sounded less like an insult and more like a verdict.

“Tina. We are leaving.”

“Leaving?” Lord Earl asked. “You have barely been here ten minutes.”

“This gathering was arranged by Her Majesty so the residents of the West Villa could get along,” Lord Keith added.

G6 shot them a cold look.

“Then tell Her Majesty I have no time to waste on pleasantries. I would rather count every green thing in this garden than waste another minute with all of you.”

Then she walked away.

Without a backward glance, the Wicked Rose turned her back on Prince Dio.

For several seconds, no one spoke as the meaning of what she had said settled over the gazebo.

She had just declared the plants and trees in the garden more valuable than spending time with them.

A stunned servant, distracted by G6’s departure, moved too close to the table.

Her sleeve caught the teapot.

The supposedly terrible design tipped.

—CRASH!

Porcelain shattered across the gazebo floor.

The sound broke the silence.

G6 paused and looked over her shoulder at the mess before turning her gaze toward Prince Dio.

There was no blame in her expression and no pity.

Only quiet validation.

I told you so.

Then she continued walking.

Prince Dio remained seated, staring toward the empty chair she had left behind.

For the first time in years, Reise had barely looked at him.

Yet he had spent most of the gathering watching her.

Somewhere near the garden hedge, a scullery maid hurried away.

The news would spread faster than the broken porcelain could be swept aside.

The Wicked Rose had attended the Queen’s tea gathering without screaming, crying, or causing the jealous scene everyone had expected. She had barely acknowledged Prince Dio.

And somehow, before leaving, she had predicted the destruction of a teapot.

—To Be Continued…—