The side gate Mirelle had arranged for me was guarded by men on her payroll. Same ones as before. They stiffened when they saw me.
Apparently, she hadn't told them who was behind the mask.
"Y-Your Highness, this is unexpected…"
"Open the gate."
They scrambled to comply, fumbling with the lock before stepping aside and bowing.
I didn't wait. I moved fast through the halls of her wing and straight into her study.
She stood at her desk, posture loose and deliberate, like she'd just been caught mid-performance.
"So," she said. "You've finally returned. Was the sightseeing worth it? I nearly assumed you'd fled the palace for good."
Irritation flared, snuffing out the guilt I'd been holding.
"If your information had been accurate," I said, "I wouldn't have been delayed."
"My information—"
"According to you, there wouldn't be any tigers near the cub. And yet, one showed up as we were returning to the guild."
She blinked. "That's not possible. Tigers don't stay near each other. The father leaves after mating. The mother only returns briefly between hunts. The compass was calibrated for a recently abandoned cub."
"And yet one appeared."
"You expect me to believe you handled a tiger?"
"We didn't," I snapped. "It mauled the whole group. The only reason I'm alive is because a Mawich pack thought our injuries made us valuable prey and jumped in."
That shut her up. For a moment, anyway.
"You can ask the Guild," I added, tossing my guild card onto her desk. "I was the only one who made it back, but other travelers felt the aura. It wasn't subtle."
She picked up the card, brows drawn, and tucked it into a drawer without comment.
"Now," I said. "Did you give Ella the potion?"
"I did. I received the cub, and I gave your maid the elixir."
"You administered it yourself?"
"Obviously. Did I not impress upon you how critical it was? No one else could be trusted."
"What of the healers who knew of her condition?"
"They've been dealt with. Officially, they were reprimanded for misdiagnosing her. No one would believe a maid was given something like that in the first place. I gave it to her and can still hardly believe you'd go that far."
I wasn't as certain about her cover-up, but I trusted that she wouldn't risk her own standing.
"You still haven't told me what it really costs."
"And I still won't. It's not time."
"What if I decide the tiger was payment enough?"
Her expression sharpened. "Then we burn together. I've already planted evidence linking you to the theft of the medicine. I'll lose my position, but you? You'll be branded a traitor. Let's not pretend we both don't have things to lose."
"In any case, you should return to your chambers," Mirelle said. "I managed to stave off questions by insisting you were assisting me, but that only worked because I wouldn't allow them to question the absurdity of it. You'll have to deal with it from here."
"I see. Thank you for your help, sister." I bowed and stepped out.
The guards outside barely looked at me, but I paused and motioned to one of them.
"You. Escort me back to my chambers."
I didn't remember the way.
After a beat, the guard fell into step beside me. I focused on his surface thoughts, curious what simmered behind the polished exterior.
Ah, why me? The menace's been quiet for a week, but it's just a matter of time. What else can you expect from a—
A hand landed on my shoulder, pulling me abruptly out of his mind.
"Ignoring me now, Darian? That hurts. Especially after hearing how close you and Mirelle have gotten."
Golden eyes. Regal posture. Smiling like we were old friends.
Crown Prince Alric Serathorne.
He looked every inch the golden boy—tailored in royal blue, gold trim catching the light just enough to be tasteful. His tone was light, but I didn't miss the precision in his movements.
"I wouldn't call it closeness," I said, brushing his hand away and offering a shallow bow—just deferential enough to pass. Technically, we were equal in status. Functionally, he could ruin me easily. "We had a mutually beneficial arrangement."
Alric accepted the bow with a faint nod. "Ah, don't be like that. You're finally growing up. No unsavory reports for over a week. Well, aside from the assassination attempt, but that wasn't your fault."
He said it so breezily that it took a full second for the words to land. Nearly getting murdered, brushed off like a weather report.
My eyes narrowed. I considered using soul-sight, but... no. If it could be detected by an adventurer, there was little doubt in my mind that other's with even stronger Birthrights would be able to as well.
"There's always a time for change," I said. "Nearly dying is a persuasive motivator."
"Indeed," Alric said, voice full of that frustrating older-brother pity. "It's just unfortunate it took so much."
That stoked something sharp in me—Darian's old rage. I shoved it down.
"I'd love to stay and discuss personal growth, but I have duties to attend to."
I turned. He threw an arm around my shoulders like we were off to watch a game.
"After disappearing for two days, I'm sure your staff will need serious placating. But don't worry—I made sure the right people weren't asking the wrong questions."
He stepped back and gave a parting nod. "May the gods bless you, Darian."
He knew.
He knew I'd disappeared. Knew I hadn't told anyone. And instead of turning me in, he covered for me.
Why?
Alric was the crown prince in more than name. The nobility adored him, the people saw him as a living ideal, and even his critics admitted he made it all look effortless. His recent conquest of the Vatapi Plains had been a calculated play—meant to appease the military, whose loyalties leaned toward Thalia.
Helping me made no sense.
I was Thalia's bargaining chip with Auremath. My recklessness could have torpedoed the engagement entirely—and with it, a chunk of her political capital. Alric could've let it happen. Could've gone further. Told the king. Had me dragged back in disgrace. Or just... made sure I didn't return at all.
That was the part that gnawed at me.
I'd believed he was behind the assassination attempt. Or at least that someone in his circle was. It made sense. Clean. Efficient. Quietly remove the spare prince and watch Thalia's campaign collapse under the weight of scandal.
But if he knew I'd escaped, and I was still breathing...
Then maybe I was wrong.
I exhaled slowly and nodded to the guard still waiting beside me. Another tangle in the web I was only just beginning to map.
The walk back was quiet, but not calm. My thoughts pressed in like fog, heavy and directionless. By the time we reached my chambers, I hadn't found clarity.
"Your Highness! I was worried about what sort of experiments Her Highness had subjected you to!"
"Watch your tongue," Mirelle's guard snapped.
"Enough," I said, voice calm but edged. "Return to my sister. I'll speak with my own guard."
Bram looked relieved. Someone being happy to see me... that was new. And nice.
The guard hesitated. "Your Highness, a guard shouldn't—"
I turned slowly.
"Have you grown so bold you make me repeat myself?" I let my Birthright flicker. Just enough. He stumbled back, pale.
"N-no, Y-your Highness. Forgive me."
"You'll beg to be stationed somewhere far from my sight. If I see you again, there will be consequences."
He bolted. Good.
"I—I'm sorry, Highness!" Bram said, bowing quickly. "I didn't mean to insult—"
I placed a hand on his shoulder. "I appreciate the concern. Just be careful how you speak of royalty in the future."
Bram looked like I'd just knighted him.
"Yes, Highness!"
"How's Ella?"
"She's well! Recovered yesterday. We told her to rest, but she insisted on returning to work when she heard you got Her Highness to look after her. Shall I tell her you've returned?"
"Yes. And that I'd like tea. And sweets."
"Right away!" Bram dashed off.
I passed the other guard, the nameless one that had been with me since the assassins, and she kept her head down.
Back in my chambers, I collapsed into the nearest chair.
"And so I have returned," I muttered.
The room was quiet, polished, and bigger than my old apartment by a factor of three, but it didn't feel like mine. If anything, it just reminded me how far I was from home.
So. Time to start planning how to get back.
The biggest question was the one I kept circling: how did I get here in the first place? My last memories were a blur, but there was a hospital bed in there somewhere. That, more than anything, made me think I'd died and reincarnated.
And if something as absurd as reincarnation was real, then maybe going back wasn't impossible either.
I'd floated the idea past Cerys once. She dismissed it immediately, said only the saint reincarnates. Everyone else ends up in the afterlife of whatever god favors them most. The Church always receives a revelation when a saint is born, and no such message had arrived when I showed up. So, by that logic, I couldn't be one.
Still, it was my only lead. I needed to find out more about what a saint actually was.
In the meantime, there were my princely obligations.
Training with Orien. Lessons with Cerys. And the social season was about to start. I didn't know exactly what that involved, but with the engagement looming, I'd probably be paraded around more than usual. Thankfully, it wouldn't last long. In two months, I'd be shipped off to the academy.
And then there was the assassination attempt.
God, I wanted to ignore it. Pretend it didn't matter. I didn't even want to stay in this world. Honestly, whoever ordered the hit probably had more in common with my goals than I did. But I couldn't say that out loud. It'd be easier for them to label me as a demon in disguise and execute me.
Someone was investigating, but the fact that it happened at all meant I couldn't leave it to them.
If I wanted to survive long enough to get answers, I had to play the part. That meant learning everything I could from Cerys, and not getting myself killed under Orien's watch. If I could stay learn enough, I might just start asking the right questions.
And then there was the matter of magic.
Mirelle would come calling eventually, but that wasn't urgent. Neema's magic, though, fascinated me. More than anything else in this world so far, really. I'd always loved learning, and every new discovery twisted the rules in ways that made my brain light up.
Plus, Neema was good company.
A knock came at the door.
"Come in."
Bram opened it just long enough for Ella to slip inside. She carried a tray, tea and sweets just as I'd asked, and kept her head low. I motioned for Bram to leave us. He bowed and pulled the door shut.
Ella moved quietly. She set the tray down on the desk, brought over the sweets first, then went back to pour the tea. All without a word. She placed the cup in front of me, hands trembling slightly.
"Pour yourself a cup and sit," I said.
She shook her head.
I frowned. "Is this a trend now? Do all the palace staff need me to repeat myself before listening?"
The sharpness in my voice made her flinch. I sighed, softened it. "Please, Ella. Sit."
She obeyed, finally pouring herself a cup and lowering into the chair across from me. But she didn't drink. Didn't touch the pastries. Just sat there, shrinking into herself like a child expecting punishment.
The silence stretched.
"I heard Her Highness came to see me," she said at last, voice barely above a whisper.
"She did. Your healers weren't enough. Anyone who saves the life of royalty deserves better than that."
Her eyes filled instantly. Tears spilled down her cheeks in a rush.
"What—why are you crying?" The panic bled into my tone before I could stop it.
"I-I didn't deserve that," she sobbed. "I don't deserve any of it."
"You saved my life."
"You don't understand!" she shouted, voice cracking.
I didn't. Not even a little. But I moved toward her, keeping my voice gentle. "Then help me understand."
She flinched away from me, eyes wide with fear.
"T-this isn't you. What happened to His Highness?" Her hands trembled violently. "You should be furious. You should've beaten me. You should've let me die."
I froze.
She wasn't afraid I'd punish her. She was terrified that I wouldn't.
"I shouldn't be alive," she whispered. "And neither should you."
The words landed like a slap.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"You shouldn't have survived the tea I gave you last week." Her voice broke completely. "You should be dead."
My thoughts stumbled.
Last week.
That's when I woke up as Darian.
She had poisoned him.
I stared at her, stunned.
Was that it? Did Darian die, and that was what pulled me in? Was her trembling fear over my survival? Why did she jump in front of the blade?
She tried to kill me.
Or him.
And now she was crying because I lived.