Two years had passed.
Elowen had grown taller, her auburn hair cascading down her back in gentle waves, catching the sunlight like strands of copper. Her hazel eyes sparkled with a new depth, a mixture of curiosity, mischief, and quiet confidence that had slowly blossomed over the past two years.
Etiquette? She still hadn't quite mastered it. Bowing too low, curtsying awkwardly, and sometimes speaking a little too bluntly—these were all habits that lingered stubbornly despite lessons. Yet, somehow, no one seemed to mind as much anymore.
Her relationship with the Duke had improved dramatically. Now, nearly every day, he would invite her to the garden for tea and snacks, listening quietly as she spoke about her day—her lessons, her little experiments with magic under Elias's guidance, and even her occasional small victories over Kael's relentless teasing.
Kael remained a whirlwind of chaos, just as mischievous as ever. Their playful quarrels were frequent—he teased, she retaliated with witty comebacks or clever tricks—and each exchange seemed to strengthen her confidence.
Noel, ever silent and steady, remained her anchor. Their conversations had grown longer, deeper. Sometimes they spoke of nothing at all, simply enjoying each other's presence. Sometimes they spoke of strategies—how to navigate her peculiar position in this story and the system's cryptic instructions.
Lavinia, in contrast, had been largely absent over the past two years. Most of her time was spent at the church, attending classes or participating in charity events, her presence at the estate now more ceremonial than personal. Yet when she did appear, her smile was flawless, her gaze sharp, as if she were constantly calculating her position in the household hierarchy.
Elowen, meanwhile, had grown comfortable in the estate. The servants no longer made her feel out of place; many had grown fond of her cheerful curiosity and occasionally cheeky attitude. She had even learned a few household secrets, little tidbits of information that made her feel like she belonged—not just as the Duke's daughter, but as a member of the family herself.
The system had continued its usual antics, popping up randomly with small quests, each promising points or rewards. Elowen had long since learned not to expect anything tangible from them yet, but she still followed the tasks diligently, knowing that every little action brought her closer to understanding the story—and her role within it.
And now… her ninth birthday was approaching.
The household buzzed with excitement. Preparations were underway: decorations in the garden, pastries and cakes to be baked, and a few surprises whispered about by the servants. For once, Elowen felt truly included—happy, excited, and just a little nervous.
Two years had changed many things. Her hair had grown, her magic knowledge had deepened under Elias's patient guidance, her relationship with her father had strengthened, and her friendships—and rivalries—had matured. But one thing remained the same: the story around her had not yet ended, and her journey was only beginning.
Elowen smiled softly, brushing a strand of auburn hair behind her ear.
"…Let's see what this year brings," she whispered to Pippin, who nuzzled against her side.
Elowen had grown used to the rhythms of the estate, yet each day still held small surprises. She woke early, the sunlight spilling across her bed, and often found herself wandering the garden before lessons, speaking softly to Pippin.
"Good morning, Pippin," she whispered, brushing his soft fur. "Did you sleep well?"
The pig squealed in reply, nudging her hand with a tiny snout. Elowen laughed quietly. "Yes, I know… I talk to you too much. But… you're the only one who listens."
The system appeared briefly in her mind, its voice cheeky.
"Host, talking to a pig is fine, but do remember—points do not grow on snouts."
Elowen rolled her eyes, ignoring the sassy remark. "Not everything has to be about points," she muttered, scratching Pippin behind the ears.
After breakfast, her lessons began. Etiquette, still as tedious as ever, barely held her attention. She fidgeted with her dress, occasionally glancing at the window or thinking about the library where Elias waited. Magic studies had become her favorite, hours spent poring over books and experimenting under Elias's careful guidance. He was patient, calm, and endlessly encouraging—though his soft reminders to focus were always there.
Kael, meanwhile, never failed to find her. Often during lessons, he would sneak glances from across the hall, smirking at her attempts to follow rules. Sometimes he would appear suddenly behind her, whispering teasing remarks, or tap her shoulder just as she straightened her posture.
"Trying not to look like a disaster again?" he would murmur, barely containing his laughter.
Elowen would scowl, swat at him, or hiss under her breath, but she secretly enjoyed the chaos he brought—it kept the monotony of lessons bearable.
Elowen's heart warmed during these moments. Despite her small size and the oddities of her situation, she felt like she belonged. The estate was not just a home; it was a place where she was seen, where she mattered.
Yet not everything was peaceful. Livinia's absence over the past two years had been notable, but Elowen had not forgotten her. Whispers of the girl's time spent at the church and charity events reached her occasionally, and each time, she felt the faint prickling of unease. Livinia's intentions, carefully veiled behind politeness, were something Elowen could sense even from afar. The system had even warned her:
"Host, rivals do not rest. Keep your wits sharp."
Elowen had heeded the advice, quietly learning strategies for social situations, observing her siblings' interactions, and practicing how to respond to potential threats. She wasn't powerless anymore.
And now, with her ninth birthday approaching, a sense of excitement—and a little apprehension—hung in the air.
Servants bustled quietly through the hallways, decorations appeared in the garden, and a small collection of pastries and cakes were prepared for the celebration. Elowen could hardly wait. She was no longer the frightened, lost child who had been found by her father two years ago. She was stronger, smarter, and ready to face whatever came next.
As she sat in the garden with Pippin nestled at her side, her hazel eyes bright and sparkling, she whispered softly to the pig, "…I'll rewrite everything, Pippin. I'll make sure my story doesn't end badly. I won't fail."