“Grandfather, I understand.”
Freya moved to her grandfather’s side and took his slightly trembling hand. The palm that was usually warm and broad felt ice-cold in that moment.
“But resistance requires strategy. My father’s letter mentions a three-day deadline and an invitation to a banquet — this is an open scheme. We must respond.”
She turned to Lyra, her gaze as sharp as a drawn sword.
“Lyra, your previous mission remains the same. Continue to investigate the Holy Temple and the ‘Special Constitution Bearers.’ However, I’m adding a task: use your channels in the Black Market and the shadows to find out if the Holy Temple has been purchasing special magic materials or recruiting people with specific mana traits. Look for any rumors or secret transactions involving keywords like ‘heart,’ ‘core,’ or ‘transplant.’ Be extremely careful. I would rather you return empty-handed than be exposed.”
“Understood!”
Lyra nodded firmly, her expression more serious than ever before.
“As for the banquet…” Freya paused to think.
“We must attend. Not only to prevent them from having leverage against us, but also to observe Ross, Irina, and any possible Temple personnel. Perhaps I can even get some information out of my father.”
“It’s too dangerous!” Calanso disagreed.
“It’s clearly a trap!”
“It’s exactly because it’s a trap that we must go,” Freya said, her eyes resolute.
“Running away will only make them bolder. They might even resort to more extreme methods to force my hand. By attending and stepping onto the stage they’ve set, we can actually seize the initiative. At the very least, we can observe and maneuver. Besides…”
She looked at Lyra. “I have Lyra with me.”
Lyra immediately puffed out her chest and patted it confidently. “That’s right! Don’t worry, Grandfather! I’ll protect the Boss! If anyone tries anything funny, they’ll have to go through me first!”
A predatory gleam flashed in her eyes.
Calanso looked at the two girls — one calm and determined, the other wild and untamed. They had formed a surprisingly reliable alliance.
He remained silent for a long time before finally sighing. He seemed to age several years in an instant, but his eyes regained their resolve.
“Fine. Since you’ve decided, I will support you. House Dale will always be your backer. Before the banquet, I’ll use my old connections to find out what the Holy Temple is up to and who Hezdi has been in contact with. While you are at the Elwin Count’s Manor, I will arrange for reliable people to support you from the outside.”
“Thank you, Grandfather.”
A wave of warmth rose in Freya’s heart. With his support, she wasn’t fighting alone.
“However, Freya —” Calanso warned solemnly. “In the manor, in front of your father, you must be careful. Think twice before you act or speak. Hezdi… he is your father, after all. But sometimes, when people are blinded by obsession or pressure, they make heart-wrenching choices. Protect yourself. Your safety is the priority.”
“I understand.”
Freya nodded. She no longer harbored any illusions about her father. The betrayal of her previous life and the constant pressure of this one had eroded their familial bond.
In her eyes, Hezdi Elwin was first the Earl of the House Elwin and a representative of a faction caught in a conspiracy. Only then… was he her biological father.
With the plan decided, the three of them spent more time preparing for various scenarios.
—
It was late at night, but the lights in the study stayed on for a long time. When Freya and Lyra finally returned to their rooms, it was already midnight.
Freya didn’t go to sleep immediately. She stood by the window, looking at the sparse stars in the sky. The night in the Royal Capital seemed peaceful, but dangerous undercurrents surged beneath the surface.
Her father’s letter, the shadow of the Holy Temple, Ross’s ambition, Irina’s poisonous schemes… Everything felt like an invisible net tightening around her.
But she would not sit and wait for death. The banquet in three days would be her first direct confrontation with those behind the scenes. It would also be the day she announced to everyone — Freya Christo Dale would never again be a pawn to be slaughtered like in her previous life.
She gently touched her chest. There, the Mana Heart Crystal was beating steadily and powerfully, resonating with her will.
‘They want my crystal? They want to use me as a sacrifice or a tool? Then let them come.’
‘I’ll see who is truly devoured in the end.’
Even though it was late, Freya wasn’t sleepy. She stood by the window in the moonlight, lost in thought. Suddenly, there was a *knock knock knock* at the window. Freya snapped out of it and realized that Lyra was standing on the railing of her second-floor window in her pajamas, smiling and waving.
She was also barefoot.
Lyra’s room was on the first floor. How had she climbed up to the second?
Freya raised an eyebrow, threw on a coat, and opened the window to let Lyra in.
Lyra entered with a giggle. She leaned in slightly, her voice soft. “Not asleep yet, Boss?”
Freya didn’t mind her and sat back down on her bed. “Aren’t you awake too?”
Lyra didn’t stand on ceremony. Ignoring whether Freya was a germaphobe, she sat down right next to her. “I’m just excited. I didn’t expect to experience so much with you.”
Freya fell silent for a moment. “Lyra, experiencing so many things isn’t necessarily a good thing.”
Seeing that Freya was in a bad mood, Lyra leaned in closer, catching the familiar scent of Freya’s perfume.
“Boss, since neither of us can sleep, could you help me review the Waltz?”
Freya was slightly taken aback and looked at Lyra. The moonlight streamed through the window, illuminating Lyra’s smiling face. Her red eyes sparkled in the dim light, carrying a hint of childish mischief and perhaps a trace of… clumsy concern?
She had probably noticed Freya’s heavy heart and wanted to distract her or close the distance between them.
“Now? Review the Waltz?” Freya’s voice was clear in the silent night, tinged with helplessness. “Lyra, it’s the middle of the night.”
“Oh, we’re both awake anyway!” Lyra swung her bare feet, sounding perfectly justified. “Besides, we’re going back to your father’s place tomorrow, and then there’s that banquet. If I’m forced to dance and I make a fool of myself, it’ll be your reputation on the line, Boss!”
She spoke with such conviction, as if this were a legitimate emergency. Freya looked at her “I’m doing this for your sake” expression and was silent for a few seconds.
She knew Lyra’s motives weren’t entirely pure, but… perhaps, in this deep night wrapped in conspiracy and pressure, a simple, even absurd request wasn’t a bad thing.
She sighed, stood up, and moved to a relatively spacious area of the room.
“Only the basic steps. And don’t make too much noise.”
“Yay!”
Lyra immediately bounced off the bed. Standing barefoot on the soft carpet, she ran to Freya, straightened her back, and reached out her hand. Even though she was in wrinkled pajamas with messy hair and bare feet, she tried her best to look the part.
Freya suppressed the urge to facepalm. She stepped forward and took the standard dance position, one hand resting lightly on Lyra’s back and the other clasped with hers.
Lyra’s hands weren’t soft like a typical noble lady’s; her palms and fingertips had thin callouses, feeling warm and real.
“Watch my feet,” Freya whispered, leading her into a simple box step.
Her movements were light and precise. Even in pajamas and bare feet, she exuded an elegance that was ingrained in her very bones. Lyra was stiff at first, her steps messy, nearly stepping on Freya several times.
However, her learning ability was impressive. She quickly caught the rhythm and the pattern of the steps, managing to follow Freya’s lead. The moonlight flowed over them, casting overlapping shadows on the floor.
“Yes, like that. Step back… the turn should be light, don’t stomp.”
Freya’s voice was very soft, like a whisper in the quiet room. She focused on correcting Lyra’s movements, temporarily pushing her troubling thoughts aside. Lyra also became serious, her red eyes fixed on Freya’s steps as she tried to mimic her fluidity.
Gradually, their coordination improved, and the simple steps flowed in the silence. Lyra was taller than Freya, so from a distance, it looked like an elegant gentleman dancing with a lady.
“Boss —” Lyra spoke softly, her breath slightly uneven from the movement. “You dance so well… It’s like you’re floating in the moonlight.”
Her tone was full of unshielded admiration. Freya didn’t respond, only leading her through a small turn. In that moment of rotation, the distance between them closed. Freya could smell the faint, clean scent of sunlight and soap on Lyra, mixed with the cool air of the night.
“Lyra —”
Freya stopped and let go, taking a half-step back to create some distance. Her gaze fell calmly on Lyra’s face.
“Why are you so obsessed with the Waltz? Is it really just to avoid making a fool of yourself at the banquet?”
She always felt that Lyra’s desire to enter the Academy and learn etiquette had a deeper reason. Lyra blinked, and the playful expression on her face faded. She scratched her messy white hair, her eyes wandering before landing on the invisible footprints they had just left on the floor.
“It’s not just that…” she muttered. “I just thought… the things you know seem difficult, but… also interesting. And if I learn them, maybe I’ll… be more like an ‘assistant’ who can stand by your side? Not just someone who hides in the shadows doing dirty work, but… someone who can walk in the light with you?”