York Family Estate.

Inside the council hall, several young people sat around a round table. At its head sat a middle-aged man with white hair. To his left and right, young men and women were seated in order. Teresa occupied the first seat on his left.

“This family meeting proceeds as usual,” the man announced. His voice boomed like a bell—commanding respect without anger. “The Empire of Saint Velia functions because of our family. Some of you hold key posts across the realm; others serve in the military. Report your recent updates.”

Starting from his right, family members took turns reporting. This was a formal accountability session to the patriarch. The York Family’s influence in the Empire of Saint Velia ran deep—they were said to co-rule the empire with the imperial house.

All eyes finally settled on Teresa.

“The person Father asked me to monitor… I’ve assigned my most trusted aide to watch closely,” she stated. Gone was the arrogance she’d shown with Loko. Calm and composed, she showed not a trace of nervousness before the elders.

“Little sister.”

A young man seated across from her spoke up. “If she truly blocks the family’s path, why not just eliminate her? Why waste time surveilling? Tch—does she hide some secret?”

The patriarch shot him a sharp glare. The youth shrank back instantly, abashed. Teresa visibly relaxed under her father’s support.

“Also,” she continued, “we’ve uncovered spies from rival families attempting to infiltrate ours. With one word from you, Father, their heads roll by dawn.”

“No need.” He waved a hand dismissively. “Keeping them alive is leverage.”

…

After the meeting, members exited the hall. The youth who’d challenged Teresa walked toward the banquet hall with others, muttering.

“The patriarch’s too biased. Just because she’s his daughter, he gives her the easiest tasks. We guard the borders against invaders—return empty-handed.”

“Keep it down, Joseph,” a companion murmured, patting his shoulder.

“He *is* the patriarch.”

Joseph pursed his lips, discontent silent.

Alone in the hall remained York Family patriarch Drake and Teresa.

“Father,” Teresa said respectfully. “Why must I monitor Shilufei? Is she… a threat?”

Drake shook his head. “I swore an oath to an elder of her family. We cannot harm her.”

“Provided she does not threaten York interests.”

…

Dawn broke. As Loko stepped from her home, a carriage waited at the gate.

Spotting the rose motif carved on its door, her heart skipped a beat.

*No way… Miss Teresa? Monitoring me even on the school route?*

The guard upfront hopped down. “Miss Loko, Miss Teresa wishes to accompany you to Saint Stephen Academy.”

“O-oh… yes, of course,” Loko nodded tightly. She approached, pulled the door open, and stepped onto the mounting block. A heavy weight settled in her chest. *Didn’t she warn me yesterday? Is this another reminder?*

Mid-thought—her foot slipped. She lurched forward—

—but didn’t fall. Instead… she’d landed against something soft. A delicate fragrance brushed her nose.

Only when a familiar voice spoke did realization strike.

“How long do you intend to hold on?”

Teresa’s words jolted her back. Loko straightened instantly.

“I’m so sorry, Miss Teresa! I overstepped—please forgive me!”

She’d nearly tumbled; Teresa, seated by the door, had caught her. Inside the carriage, Loko stared at her lap, cheeks warm. *An accidental embrace… but with *her*? Given our status…*

She stole glances at Teresa mid-ride. Too flustered now to ask why they shared the carriage.

After a long silence, Teresa spoke softly.

“That Shilufei… the power behind her isn’t trivial.”

*As if I didn’t already know,* Loko thought dryly.

She knew Shilufei—the protagonist—was the last descendant of the Lancaster Family, exiled from the Empire of Saint Velia by the Yorks. Only her traveling parents survived. Shilufei’s revenge began with the York Family.

Noticing Loko’s distant look, Teresa tapped the carriage wall.

“Are my words not reaching you?”

Loko shook her head quickly. “No, Miss Teresa! I’ve taken every word to heart.”

Teresa sighed inwardly at the girl’s flustered sincerity.

“If you sense danger from her… protect yourself first.”

“I understand. I won’t fail you.”

Seeing Loko’s earnest face, Teresa softened.

“When we arrive, you disembark first. Don’t walk together—avoid suspicion.”

“Understood.”

…

“Hey there, underclassman. Where ya headed? All alone?”

Inside Saint Stephen Academy, seniors in uniform blocked a girl’s path. Golden hair, eyes clear as still water. Clutching only an admission letter, dressed plainly—clearly a new student. An easy target.

“Excuse me, seniors… I have somewhere to be,” the girl murmured, tightening her grip on the letter and stepping sideways.

They exchanged smirks. Another blocked her path.

Loko had just entered, heading to registration, when she spotted the scene. Her instinct to intervene flared—

—then froze mid-step.

Through the gap in the crowd… *that face*.

Unmistakable. The one who’d killed her in countless nightmares.

Now gazing around with fragile innocence, like Cinderella waiting for her prince.