Not This Time,My Lord

ly off to embroidery or harp lessons or something else harmless. Let them think that. The public library was bright and watched. All polished shelves and filtered light. A place designed to look imp

ifted when she tried to read too fast. Some words glowed red. Others blinked out when she blinked. Her fingers paused over a sigil. A flame carved inside a circle, flanked by two wings. It hummed. Not like magic. Like memory. Like something she'd known once, maybe in another life. Her thumb twitched. She didn't know if it was recognition-or fear. The last page held only one line: Not all fire starts from flame. She closed the book slowly. Didn't breathe for a moment. Not because she was afraid-but because, for the first time since waking up in this life, something felt right. ⸻ Meanwhile, in the greenhouse, Seren was causing problems again. The maid she was scolding-Tina-looked barely fourteen. Hands still wet from watering pots. Eyes wide and shiny. "These were made in Velis," Seren snapped, pointing at her soaked velvet slippers. "Do you even know what they cost?" "I-I'm sorry-" "You're always sorry," Seren hissed. "Maybe if I break your fingers, you'll remember not to spill-" "That's enough," Elaria said from behind her. Tina looked up like someone had yanked her out of water. "You're needed in the dining hall," Elaria told her, voice calm. "Go." Tina fled like she'd been given permission to live. Seren turned, slow and smug. "You're interrupting again." "She's not your servant." "Since when do you speak for the staff?" Elaria stepped