“Darius and Karina have come here, to Douhelm,” Vincent tells me the next morning after breakfast, as we stroll through the private gardens.

  Douhelm is the name of the capital, one I wish I could explore more, if only we could walk around without being recognized. Yesterday left me wanting. But it’s my first visit to Vincent’s home, and I’m not about to suggest we throw on cloaks and sneak out of the palace.

  “Are they visiting?” I ask him.

  Weren’t they all supposed to be going to Theodore’s marquisate?

  “More like for the duel.”

  “The duel?”

  Oh, I had completely forgotten. Darius defended Ronan’s honor and had a duel left to fight.

  “Yes, against Count Whitmore, in the dueling arena. It’s tomorrow, Friday, shortly after dawn, as soon as the arena opens.”

  “I’ve never seen it,” I tell him before realizing that maybe the original Bianca of this body has witnessed some duels, maybe even in the capital. “What’s the arena like?”

  “A circular ring with sandy ground, inside a circular building open to the sky, with seats to watch the duels.”

  That sounds similar to a Roman amphitheater, minus being circular instead of oval. Could it be like the one in the dungeon for travelers from other worlds?

  “We’ll go see them, right?”

  “Of course. Darius is defending Ronan.”

  “You hold Ronan in high regard,” I observe.

  He shrugs.

  “It’s normal. He’s a great strategist, seems to be your protégé, and I value him as a friend.”

  Vincent, Darius, Mary... for having spent his life in a basement, the necromancer isn’t doing badly at all with the whole socializing thing. Well, except with me. I spent months avoiding him because I didn’t know what that gaunt, pale boy wanted from me.

  “The one who doesn’t make sense to me is Karina. She’s barely exchanged a few words with him.”

  “Knowing her, there’s something that caught her interest. Maybe it’s just the duel. She wants to see the fight.”

  I nod. I spend the rest of the morning with Vincent, just chatting and enjoying each other’s company. It’s good for me to forget about last night. Not to act like it didn’t happen, but to give myself a break. And maybe that way I’ll end up getting used to having human lives on my conscience, like I think Catrina suggested.

  When lunchtime approaches and I separate from Vincent to go to my room to change into another dress and get ready, I run into the last person I expected in the hallways: Faith. The villainess.

  Let’s see… wasn’t she supposed to be in her room feeling unwell? Or with her period, who knows.

  Sigfrig’s fiancée is like a copy of Sol, but a bit older and, as I know from the otome, much pettier. The firstborn sister, who in some of the bad endings ended up being queen and intervened to support her sister and deliver the final social blow to the protagonist, walks toward me through one of the palace hallways.

  She’s not someone I want to run into. In fact, I was happy she was indisposed in her chambers.

  She takes a bit longer to see me, so I can observe how, even though she thinks she’s alone, she moves forward with the grace befitting a lady of high nobility.

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  If Sol’s beauty and her effortless way of always seeming up to the task, as if it came naturally, is something I can’t help but admire from the first moment—after all, I’m socially more like a steamroller; I’m not delicate, I simply am—then her sister is Sol taken to a higher level. She is the perfection Sol aspires to.

  The problem, or the relief, is that I know she’s rotten inside. So yes, when I see her, two different sensations pass through my head. The first, that admiration I seem to have for strong characters who have the elegance and self-confidence I never managed to find in my life on Earth. You know, the villainesses. The second, that I know nothing good can come from a woman who considers herself superior to anyone with a lower social status and has no problem being engaged to someone like Sigfrig. I seriously doubt she knows about Catrina, but if she did, I don’t think that would make her break the engagement.

  When she sees me, her gait modifies in such an imperceptible way I almost don’t notice. But I do. She smiles at me softly and stops politely when we’re close. I do the same.

  “Bianca L’Crom, my future sister-in-law. I haven’t been able to welcome you to the palace. I hope you’re enjoying your stay here.”

  She doesn’t fool me. She’s a harpy, like her sister. Besides, the real hostess, the queen, already welcomed me.

  I force myself to give her a slight curtsy, since her status is higher.

  “Yes, thank you.”

  I have no intention of confronting her. I’m sure if I said something like everyone is very kind to me, especially the crown prince, it would break her perfect act. But it would be a lie and, besides, with one enemy in her family I have enough.

  “Your engagement to the second prince was sudden. I think no one expected it. Your parents must feel very honored.”

  “My parents are mostly content that I’m happy, and they are proud that I was crowned queen of the ball.”

  “Since we’re going to be family, you have to come have tea with me and my friends sometime.”

  Not a chance. Who knows if she’d poison it or dedicate herself to trying to ridicule me or make me feel bad.

  “You’re very kind, Faith. If you’ll excuse me, I must get ready for lunch. I imagine we’ll see each other there.”

  Now yes, she frowns slightly. It’s just an instant. Maybe she felt it as a total lack of etiquette or perhaps as an insult that I’m the one ending the conversation.

  “You won’t see me at lunch; I’m leaving for a few days. The queen may favor you, but don’t forget who is destined to hold that position one day. I’m far from as naive as my sister.”

  Sol naive? Seriously?

  In any case, she’s said her parting phrase in a sweet voice, as if with honey she could soften the threat.

  A part of me—the one who just last night took pleasure in burying the cultists in the earth—wants to answer her. I would only have to suggest that her fiancé had meant to propose to me, and that I was the one who rejected him, to make it clear that if she becomes queen, it is only because I allow it.

  But that is precisely the part of me I don’t want to listen to right now, especially because the next logical step would be to stop allowing it.

  I don’t answer her. I simply look at her. She mirrors me, her gaze hardening. I don’t think she understands why I’m not intimidated. After a few seconds, she just continues on her way. I remain where I am, watching her walk away.

  Faith Vassilea.

  In the otome, she was an obstacle to Vincent’s romantic route, once her sister had been dealt with. She didn’t like having rivals and preferred her sister—whom she didn’t consider a threat—to become the second prince’s wife.

  Faith Vassilea. Who I don’t know if she knows her fiancé wanted to repudiate her and marry me. Ha! If she suspects it, she’ll come at me with everything, using all her power (her family prestige, her connections, her intrigues, her blackmail, her slander, and even the spies that I have no doubt she has) to sink me. She’ll even pretend to be the poor victim if she sees it necessary.

  Very well, Faith, if you ever become my enemy, I’ll be ready to beat you at your own game, just as I did with your sister.

  That doesn’t mean I can be careless. Here, I’m missing quite a bit of information from the otome. I certainly didn’t get that far playing with Mary as the protagonist, but I think I remember that Beatrice ended up in several bad endings—thanks to both a spell from Faith and her schemes.

  A spell. What magic did she have? Hmm... I don’t remember. Could it be earth?

  If it’s earth, there won’t be any problems. I doubt she’s improving hers even a tenth as much as I’m improving mine with the excavation of the Convergence caves and the production of bricks.

  With those thoughts in mind, I resume my path to my room, where Berta awaits me.

  Speaking of which, is it dangerous for her to be in the palace?

  Because I imagine that those from Agascar, the kingdom where she was born, have placed new spies close to the royal family.

  She seems quite calm as she greets me and shows me the dress she’s selected for lunch. I don’t want to ask her here, where there could be indiscreet ears.

  In any case, she’s smart. She’s undoubtedly capable of having modified her appearance enough so that those who knew her as a child or young woman wouldn’t recognize her if they ran into her now.