"Do you think she'll be alright?" Iris asked as they neared her chamber.
"She looked so shaken…" Zarah added, worry flickering in her eyes.
"She will be," Marceline replied gently, glancing at them.
"I believe my cousin is a just ruler. She will not allow an innocent person to suffer."
Zarah nodded.
That much was true.
Ines was fair.
Just.
But—
something lingered.
She hesitated before speaking.
"If I may ask, my lady… what did Celine mean when she said she didn't want to be sent back to the brothel?"
Iris glanced at Marceline as well.
"Were they actually going to send her back?"
They entered Iris's chamber.
Marceline smiled lightly at the two of them.
"You both catch onto things rather quickly."
"The words carried weight," Zarah replied politely. "It was difficult to ignore them."
Marceline raised a brow.
Then, unexpectedly—
"I believe this little outing makes us acquaintances, wouldn't you agree?"
Zarah and Iris exchanged a glance.
"I suppose it does, Lady Peirce," Zarah answered.
"I quite like your company," Iris added honestly.
Marceline's smile brightened.
"Wonderful!"
She clapped her hands softly.
"In that case, I should be honest as well. Lady Iris, your sense of fashion is exquisite."
She placed a hand lightly over her chest, expression almost comically sincere.
"I simply cannot risk you lying to me about what suits me in the future."
Iris immediately panicked, waving her hands.
"No, no, Lady Peirce! I would never lie about something like that—and honestly, everything suits you!"
"Oh, please," Marceline laughed, effortlessly steering the conversation.
Within moments, the topic shifted completely—
to fabrics, colors, and accessories.
Zarah exhaled softly as she walked over and sat on the bed.
…So this was how she did it.
Promise answers—
and then redirect before giving any.
Her gaze drifted to the two of them.
Iris was completely engrossed.
Unaware.
Marceline, on the other hand, smiled easily as she guided the conversation exactly where she wanted it.
Skilled.
No wonder Ines trusted her so deeply.
In the original story—
Melody had her assassinated to remove an obstacle.
Zarah's expression darkened slightly.
The presence detection would prove Celine's innocence.
And that would not sit well with Melody.
Which meant—
her next target would be…
Zarah's eyes lifted to Marceline.
…her.
A quiet resolve settled in.
If that future still held true—
then she needed to get closer.
Close enough to warn her—
without raising suspicion.
Suddenly—
Zarah felt it again.
That aura.
Warmth spread through her, wrapping around her like a gentle embrace.
She exhaled slowly, her shoulders easing as the sensation settled over her.
It was comforting.
Too comforting.
…And that was exactly why it unsettled her.
She needed to understand it.
Then—
a knock.
"May I come in, Lady Iris? Lady Zarah?" Nolan's voice came from the other side, polite as ever.
Zarah immediately rose from the bed, smoothing her skirt.
Iris stood as well, glancing at her with raised brows.
"Maybe the results are here?"
"Perhaps…" Zarah replied, stepping closer.
Marceline, meanwhile, simply dusted her skirt and remained seated.
"I believe it is the results," she said calmly. Then, glancing at Iris, she added,
"Lady Iris, this is your chamber. Won't you invite the Duke in?"
Iris blinked, then nodded.
"Yes—please, come in."
The doors opened.
Nolan stepped inside.
His gaze swept across the room—
and stopped on Zarah.
There it was again.
That warmth.
It wrapped around him, familiar and suffocating all at once.
He drew in a slow breath.
For a fleeting moment—
he felt like he was twelve again.
Standing before his elder brother.
…His elder brother?
His gaze sharpened.
Why—
why did her aura feel so similar to Sebastian's?
Could it be—
No.
That was absurd.
Surely Maria wouldn't have abandoned his niece in front of a brothel.
…Would she?
His jaw tightened.
No.
Now was not the time to spiral.
He clenched his fists briefly, grounding himself.
Later.
He would investigate.
Her past.
The brothel.
Everything.
But for now—
he had a duty to fulfill.
"Apologies for the intrusion," he said, shifting his gaze—
only for it to land on Marceline.
He raised a brow.
Marceline raised one right back.
"I—" Iris started.
"Your apology is not accepted," Marceline cut in with a bright grin.
Nolan's lips curved.
"This chamber does not belong to you, Lady Marceline."
"Oh?" she leaned back slightly, amused. "And since when has that stopped me?"
Ah.
So that was how it was going to be.
Marceline had won their last exchange.
This time—
he wouldn't lose.
"It seems Lady Marceline is making rather bold use of her noble status," Nolan said lightly.
"This chamber belongs to Lady Iris—and I have come to see Lady Zarah. Shouldn't they be the ones to decide whether I am forgiven?"
Marceline rose gracefully and walked toward him, placing a hand over her chest in mock offense.
"And isn't Lord Nolan doing the same?" she replied, her tone dramatic.
"Arriving unannounced and expecting forgiveness simply because you are Captain of the Imperial Guard?"
Zarah and Iris exchanged uncertain glances.
Iris tilted her head slightly and leaned closer.
"…Are they arguing?" she whispered.
"I don't think so," Zarah murmured back. "They're smiling."
Iris frowned thoughtfully.
"Maybe… this is their thing?"
Zarah blinked.
"…Nobles have strange hobbies."
"I heard that."
Nolan turned his head toward her.
Zarah stiffened.
"We do not have strange hobbies, Lady Zarah," Marceline added smoothly, also turning toward her.
"We simply make use of the limited time we have to entertain ourselves."
Zarah nodded, a little embarrassed at being overheard.
Iris gave her arm a gentle squeeze.
Nolan's gaze lingered on Zarah for a moment before he spoke.
"The results of the presence detection have arrived."
The atmosphere shifted instantly.
Tension settled over the room.
Zarah and Iris exchanged a wary glance.
Marceline's eyes sharpened with quiet interest.
"The bracelet carried Lady Celine's presence," Nolan continued, "which is expected, as it belongs to her."
A pause.
"But the hairpin…"
His gaze returned to Zarah.
She straightened instinctively.
"It bore no trace of her presence. It was planted to implicate her."
Marceline smiled, amused.
"So Lady Zarah and Lady Iris were correct in their deduction."
Zarah let out a quiet breath of relief.
Iris stepped forward slightly.
"Then… Celine has been released, right?" she asked anxiously. "She won't be sent back to the brothel?"
Nolan's expression softened.
"She has been released and returned to her chamber. You need not worry."
Then—
his eyes sharpened.
"However… where did you hear that she was to be sent back? That detail was not publicly announced."
Marceline stepped in smoothly with a sigh.
"That would be my fault," she said lightly. "I accompanied these two to visit Lady Celine. She mentioned it herself—perhaps a careless jailer spoke out of turn."
Nolan studied her for a brief moment—
then nodded.
"I see."
Iris perked up again.
"Can I go see her?"
"Of course," Nolan replied. "She will be treated as before. You may visit freely."
Zarah glanced at Iris, raising a brow.
"Eager to see your dragonfly, are you?" she murmured teasingly.
Iris huffed, shooting her a glare.
"Stop that!" she said—far louder than intended.
Both Nolan and Marceline turned to look.
Iris flushed immediately.
"It's not like that—and they're still here! Why would you say something like that?" she muttered, mortified.
Before anyone could respond, she turned and hurried out of the room.
Marceline watched her leave, then looked at Zarah with clear amusement.
"Lady Zarah, may I join you in teasing her next time?"
Zarah laughed softly.
"You heard that?"
"Not quite," Marceline admitted with a shrug. "But I recognize the signs of a flustered lady."
A knowing smile.
"So—is it official?"
"Not yet," Zarah replied. "Though I suspect even Iris hasn't realized it herself."
"Oh, how delightful," Marceline said, clearly entertained.
Nolan observed the exchange with quiet amusement—
before his gaze shifted back to Zarah.
"Lady Zarah, Her Majesty has requested your presence for tea."
Zarah blinked.
"Tea?"
That was…
unexpected.
"In that case, I will get ready and—"
"Her Majesty requested you immediately," Nolan cut in. "I have already delayed you enough."
Zarah stared at him.
"…Now?"
That wouldn't be possible.
She needed to get ready—cover her scars.
She couldn't risk Ines seeing them like this.
Sure, the Empress had called her for tea, but still—
what if it somehow led to—
No.
Wait.
Why was she even thinking that?
Why would the Empress do something like that… out in the open?
Heat crept up her neck as her fingers curled slightly.
Ridiculous.
It wasn't as though they were—
Her thoughts faltered.
She lowered her head.
She was a Flower Maiden.
And Ines… was the Empress.
Of course this was about the investigation.
Her instincts had been right—that was all.
Nothing more.
Nolan and Marceline exchanged a glance as her expression dimmed.
"Lady Zarah… are you alright?" Marceline asked gently.
Zarah blinked, snapping back.
"Yes—yes, I'm fine," she said quickly, forcing a smile. "I'll go to Her Majesty now."
She bowed to them both—
and took her leave.
Marceline and Nolan stepped out of the chamber behind Zarah.
The moment she disappeared from view, Marceline turned to him.
"My cousin has definitely taken a liking to Lady Zarah."
Nolan smirked.
"Without a doubt," he agreed. "Her Majesty's ears were red."
Marceline gasped, eyes lighting up.
"Really? And you didn't say anything?" she asked, almost offended.
"I tried," Nolan replied dryly, "but she threatened to inform the Empress Dowager that I had agreed to be matched for marriage."
Marceline laughed.
"Oh, how tragic. Poor Lord Nolan."
He rolled his eyes.
"And what about you?" he countered. "How are things with Lady Vernon?"
Marceline's expression flickered—just for a moment.
Then she smiled.
A little too lightly.
"She's engaged," she said. "To Viscount Levion."
Nolan's expression softened.
"You should have told her," he said gently.
Marceline let out a small, airy laugh.
"I did. Or… I tried."
She looked ahead.
"I suppose she was never interested in women to begin with."
There was no bitterness in her tone—
just quiet acceptance.
She looped her arm through Nolan's, brightening her expression again.
"Come now," she said lightly. "We should find my aunt and inform her that my dear cousin is summoning Lady Zarah for tea."
Nolan glanced at her, a faint smile forming.
He noticed it—
the shift.
Marceline had always been good at steering conversations away from uncomfortable truths.
This time, he let it pass.
Some things…
weren't worth pressing.