Esme stared up at the towering palace.
It spread before her like something straight out of a painting. Towers spiraled into the sky, their rooftops tipped with gold that glinted in the sunlight. Walls were painted in rich reds and creams, the balconies adorned with delicate latticework and flowering vines. Drapes and tapestries snapped lightly in the breeze, their colors bold and bright. Even from this distance, the gates alone looked monumental, carved with intricate patterns and polished until they shined.
Esme stopped unconsciously.
Her jaw slackened a fraction.
This… this was magnificent.
A rough nudge brought her back to reality. One of the guards pushed her forward, murmuring, "Keep moving."
Only then did she realise she had stopped moving. Esme straightened her shoulders and strode forward, calmly.
At the gates, two uniformed palace guards stepped forward. The escorts showed their passes, speaking quickly, "From the Tribunal. This girl is to be admitted."
The palace guards inspected the documents briefly, then stepped aside. The cart halted at the gates. It could go no farther.
So she would proceed on foot.
She followed the guards through several wide lanes, polished stone reflecting sunlight under their feet. Everything was immaculately clean, orderly, and deliberate. She kept her eyes forward, but couldn't help noticing the sheer scale of the grounds from arches to fountains, and carefully trimmed gardens.
Eventually, the lanes narrowed. The grandeur faded slightly; here the buildings were smaller, and less ornate. On one side, a bronze plaque read: Palace Personnel.
Several people—mostly girls—stood in line, waiting. Some were talking quietly, others stared straight ahead with their shoulders tense. At the center of the courtyard, a middle-aged man barked orders, his voice sharp and loud, cutting through the murmurs:
"Stay there! Don't move! Line up properly!"
The guards led Esme straight to him.
"Chief Steward Basil."
Basil's eyes flicked toward her the moment he turned. "Who is this?"
The guard pointed directly at Esme. "She is to be assigned to His Majesty's quarters as his personal attendant. From the Tribunal."
For a moment, Basil's expression shifted into surprise, curiosity, and something she couldn't quite read, before he straightened and nodded. Formalities were finished quickly. The soldiers who escorted her now turned to leave.
"Follow me," Basil said curtly, gesturing down a narrower side lane.
Esme obeyed, keeping pace. Many of the other girls turned to watch her pass. Whispers followed her about cutting the line, but no one dared question Basil openly.
The lane ended at a small, low building. Basil stopped here and opened the door. Straw was scattered across the floor, and a faint scent of hay and dust hung in the air.
"Sit here," he instructed. "Someone will come for you."
He gave her no further explanation, only a brief, appraising glance, then left.
The door closed.
Alone, Esme lowered herself onto the straw. The distant murmurs of the courtyard faded behind the walls, leaving only silence.
For the first time since morning, her shoulders finally loosened.
She exhaled slowly.
Only now, away from shouting nobles, guards, and that suffocating hall, did her mind clear enough to reflect on her reality. Especially the strange presence that had spoken to her at the tribunal.
Without it, she'd have been beheaded.
She glanced cautiously around the room, then called in a low voice,
"…Arc?"
Silence.
Esme's brows instantly furrowed. She thought about it for a moment before trying again, louder this time.
"System Arc?"
Still nothing. There was only silence around her.
Esme fell silent.
She chewed her lip slowly, unease creeping in.
Had she really imagined it all?
Of course. Maybe it really had been an illusion brought on by panic and fear. Anyone would hallucinate with a sword at their neck.
But still, that didn't make sense even to her. How could she have imagined all that information about the Wynters crest and how it was a fake? Even if she had been bluffing, did the Emperor recognize the wrong thing too?
It didn't sit right.
She pursed her lips, her eyes narrowed in thought. Then, she remembered.
The system had shown her how to pull the interface up. If it wasn't answering her, then perhaps, she could see if that was also an illusion.
So she closed her eyes, exhaled, and followed the exact mental motion it had instructed.
A translucent screen suddenly snapped into existence before her.
Esme was startled despite having prepared herself. She jerked back with a small gasp, looking at the glowing panel in front of her which looked like a dialog box.
"So it wasn't… hallucination," she muttered, disbelievingly. "If this didn't show up, I'd really think I'd gone insane."
The familiar layout of the interface glowed softly. After a few seconds, Esme exhaled and forced herself to focus. Now, she could figure out what exactly was going on.
The memories of the tribunal rushed back now.
The system had first appeared when the guards had grabbed everyone after the Emperor's order. She had dismissed it as a hallucination. But then, when Inspector Lanz took out the medallion and they couldn't even defend their innocence, it had spoken again:
Apparently, and its own words, it had told her that it'd help her go through all five lifetimes, as long as she remained obedient to the three rules given to her.
That was when she realized: this was the "gift" the old man had promised.
The system had been meticulous. It had explained its interface, its functions, and even gifted her ten points as a beginner's bonus.
At the time, she had nearly felt grateful. Who turned down free gifts?
Then she had tussled it anxiously for answers about where she was and what was going on.
It had explained that this was the first lifetime. Here, she was Seraphine Wynter, eldest granddaughter of the Wynter family: a fallen noble house loyal to the late emperor and his favored consort. Now, they had been accused of treason against the reigning Emperor's grandmother, the Grand Empress Dowager.
All odds were stacked against them.
Esme remembered feeling slightly relieved then.
If she died here, maybe she'd just… move to the next lifetime. And eventually return to her real world.
But the system had crushed that hope quickly. In its words:
> Death here = death in real life.
That was when true panic seized her.
She had begged for help. And it had offered information about the treason accusation… for "payment." She'd nearly cried when she saw her balance: 0 virtual coins. The nerve of the thing.
Then, as if doing her a favor, it had told her she could unlock partial information with her beginner bonus points. Only level one, though. The rest stayed locked because apparently the system believed in "fairness."
And now, recalling it all, Esme glared at the floating interface.
"…Scammer," she muttered under her breath.
Still, it had saved her life. And they'd survived. For now.
She remembered the system's warning to check notifications often. So she pressed her palm lightly to the glowing icon.
The purchase record was still there. But below it, something blinked faintly.
A new notification.
Esme was surprised because she hadn't been notified of it like the purchase alert. Was the system malfunctioning already?
She didn't think much though and quickly clicked on it.
Her brows drew together and she froze upon seeing the content:
[Notice:
Life Points deducted: –3
Reason: Sudden proximity to Subject L detected.]
Esme's heart dropped instantly.
Life… points?
Her eyes hardened as panic crawled up her spine.
The system had said her life points were crucial. That if they hit zero—
She dies.
Moreover, who the hell was Subject L again?
She didn't remember getting close to anyone at the tribunal or afterward.
Was the system scamming her again?
Now she realized why it was pretending to be a ghost all this while.
Instantly, Esme's voice shot up, sharply:
"ARC! GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE THIS INSTANT!"
Still nothing.
The interface remained still, silent, and infuriatingly smug-looking for something that didn't even have a face.
Esme inhaled sharply to curse again—
but the door of the shed was suddenly flung open, disrupting her thoughts.