Once the decision was set, execution was all that remained—Mylora *had* to deliver a flawless performance.

Annawiel and Patti drafted her training plan; Torina handled gear prep. With Niflheim opening the day after tomorrow, they had only one day.

Beyond equipment maintenance, other matters weighed on her mind.

Among Molly’s highlighted fiancé candidates was one named Kylo Ran Palpatine—a name that practically screamed "crossguard lightsaber-wielding maniac." No surprise: he mirrored Karen Skywalker, the captain’s fiancée from the original story.

Meaning Kylo Ran was Mylora’s top rival this time.

Torina’s lingering worry eased instantly.

The original fiancée was strong, but not *that* strong—so Kylo Ran couldn’t be overwhelming either. With Mylora’s cheat ability locked in? Total victory. So easy~

Joy!

Win!

Torina grinned. Mylora burned with fighting spirit. Patti helped eagerly. Only Annawiel felt a bitter knot tighten in her chest.

*She* was the one who came first.

*She* was the one who fell for Torina first.

*She* and Torina shared love at first sight back at the academy.

*She* abandoned her family duties just to adventure beside her.

So why… why was she scheming for her romantic rival?

Why?

What else? Annawiel never voiced her feelings plainly. Mylora was bolder, more direct. When Torina faced forced marriage, *Mylora* stood firm—while Annawiel wilted after one sharp remark from Molly… Stacked against her like this, what advantage remained? Helping Mylora win the ceremony to spare Torina an unwanted union was the only move left. Resentment changed nothing.

If only she’d been stronger back then… would their roles be reversed now?

…

…

…

Dinnertime arrived unnoticed. Too low-spirited to join the others, Annawiel ate alone, then wandered downstairs to clear her head.

Suddenly, Sebastian, House Dewell’s butler, emerged from the shadows.

"Good evening, Miss Annawiel Alpharith."

"Eek! Don’t pop out like that, old man—you scared me!"

"I merely deliver a letter on another’s behalf."

"A letter?"

He offered a gold-embossed envelope and vanished. Annawiel opened it—her face paled.

She tucked it away, glanced around, then hurried north to a luxury inn. Verified the suite number, knocked.

The door opened.

*Of course.* The people she dreaded most waited inside.

"You came obediently. Commendable."

A sharp-eyed woman lounged on the sofa, legs crossed. She shared Annawiel’s voluminous curls—mature, beautiful, yet radiating coldness.

"…Long time no see, Mother."

"So you remember I’m your mother? Ungrateful child."

"…"

This woman—Rei Alpharith—was matriarch of House Alpharith, Annawiel’s mother. Behind her stood siblings with gold-red hair, faces eerily familiar, gazes icy.

"So… you’re here for the ceremony too?" Annawiel asked flatly.

"Why refuse a chance to deepen ties with House Dewell? Rune power would be a bonus… Though finding *you* here? A pleasant surprise."

"…Still dripping sarcasm, Mom. If that’s all, may I leave?"

"*This* is your attitude? You ditched your duty, cut family ties—all for childish adventuring. No shame?"

"*My* ‘duty’? Calling servitude to that perverted old dragon a ‘duty’!? I’d rather die!"

"Respect! Without the Dragon God’s grace, our clan would be nothing! His favor is fortune—you *ran*!"

"Let whoever wants it serve! I won’t! My life is *mine*! I came to sever ties—*permanently*!"

"Fine. Leave. But know this: as an outsider, every privilege becomes debt. ‘Alphariths collect all debts.’ I’ll pursue you to the grave."

"…Threatening your own daughter? Jail? The gallows?"

"Oh? Moments ago you wanted to cut ties—now ‘*your* daughter’? Your hesitation’s written all over your face."

"You—!!!!"

"Wait. I have a proposal. Success benefits us both: clan prospers, you avoid the Dragon God, freedom secured."

"Hah? Too good. What’s the catch?"

"Well…" Rei sipped Beast Brand premium tea. "Molly Dewell declared the victor may wed her sister. Perfect alliance opportunity."

"So you want in?"

"Naturally. But no reliable male heirs in your generation."

"Guess our family’s out of luck."

"*You* entering changes that."

"Huh? Wait—*what*!?"

Annawiel’s jaw dropped. Rei pressed on:

"Mylora claimed Torina Dewell is a lesbian. You’re in the same party—*is* she?"

"Eh? U-um… is she… or isn’t she…?"

"Doesn’t matter. Enter. Results over process."

"Impossible! Molly’s furious about that comment! She’d reject another woman!"

"Disguise yourself as a man. Simple."

"But identity?!"

"Claim you’re a minor branch’s son. Fabricating one is effortless for us."

"T-this is absurd!"

"Worried about marrying a woman? I know you’re straight. Priority: secure *her*. Details later."

"Uh… u-um…"

Annawiel froze.

*Her?*

*Disguised as a man?*

*Competing behind Torina’s back?*

*Forcing a marriage Torina doesn’t want?*

This was pure betrayal—

…Wait.

Wait.

Hypothetically. *Just* hypothetically.

If she won… regardless of motive… "wedding Torina" would be *hers*.

She could legitimately earn her beloved’s hand. Kick Mylora out guilt-free. Publicly crush every messy fiancé candidate.

Wouldn’t that be… *glorious*?

In that moment, she wavered.

Deeply.

"Well, Annawiel? Decided?"

"…………Maybe… trying isn’t so bad? For the family’s future (and Torina’s chastity)!"