The morning after the Imperial Spring Banquet, Marian Valmont slept until nearly noon.
Not because she was lazy.
Because she had spent half the night convincing herself that fate was an idiot.
Sunlight filtered through the curtains of her bedchamber.
The scent of roses drifted through the open windows.
Birds chirped somewhere beyond the gardens.
Peaceful.
Ordinary.
Exactly how Marian liked her mornings.
A maid gently pulled back the curtains.
"Good morning, Lady Marian."
Marian groaned.
"No."
The maid laughed.
"It is nearly noon."
"Then it is definitely not morning."
"His Grace is waiting for you."
That got her attention.
Marian opened one eye.
"Father?"
"Yes, my lady."
Well.
That was unfortunate.
Her father rarely requested breakfast together unless he wanted something.
Or worse.
Unless he wanted to discuss politics.
And Duke Theodore Valmont considered politics a perfectly acceptable breakfast topic.
Marian sighed dramatically.
"My condolences to me."
The breakfast room overlooked the eastern gardens.
Sunlight reflected across polished marble floors.
Servants stood quietly along the walls.
At the center of the room sat one of the most powerful men in the Empire.
Duke Theodore Valmont.
Head of House Valmont.
Master of the Valmont Duchy.
Commander of the Crown’s Eastern Legions.
And unfortunately for Marian—
Her father.
He looked up from his newspaper.
"You’re late."
Marian sat gracefully.
"I inherited that from you."
"I am never late."
"You were thirty minutes late to my twelfth birthday celebration."
"That was military business."
"You arrived carrying cake."
"It was excellent cake."
"It was."
The Duke nodded.
"Then I see no issue."
Marian laughed despite herself.
The Duke Valmont was feared throughout the Empire.
A giant of a man.
Broad-shouldered.
Silver-haired despite only being in his early fifties.
His presence alone could silence entire rooms.
Yet Marian had never once been afraid of him.
Mostly because she knew he was completely incapable of refusing her anything.
The downside was that he knew she knew.
"How was the banquet?" he asked.
"There was dancing."
"A terrible start."
"Politics."
"Worse."
"Gossip."
"Horrifying."
"The Crown Prince."
The Duke paused.
"Hm."
Marian smiled triumphantly.
"Exactly."
The old duke snorted.
"You spent the entire evening with Adrian, didn’t you?"
"Most of it."
As expected.
The conversation inevitably turned toward her engagement.
It always did.
Not that Marian minded.
Unlike many noble daughters, she had never been forced into marriage.
At least not entirely.
Her engagement to Adrian had begun as politics.
But somewhere along the way it had become real.
The Duke leaned back in his chair.
"His Majesty spoke with me yesterday."
Marian immediately became suspicious.
"And?"
"He wants to finalize discussions."
Marian blinked.
Discussions.
That was noble language for marriage negotiations.
"Already?"
"You’re twenty."
"I know how old I am."
"Then stop sounding surprised."
Marian took a sip of tea.
Truthfully, it wasn’t surprising.
Everyone expected the wedding soon.
The Empire had expected it for years.
After all, the marriage wasn’t merely romantic.
It was political.
Massively political.
House Valmont was one of the Four Great Duchies.
One of the oldest noble families in the Empire.
The kind of family whose influence stretched across generations.
The kind of family emperors preferred to keep close.
And Marian—
For better or worse—
Was the only child of House Valmont.
The only one.
No brothers.
No male heirs.
No younger cousins close enough to inherit directly.
The Empire’s inheritance laws were clear.
Women could not inherit noble titles.
A duchy required a duke.
Not a duchess.
Which meant when Duke Theodore eventually died, control of House Valmont would pass through Marian’s marriage.
Whoever married her would effectively gain the support, wealth, armies, and influence of House Valmont.
There was a reason half the Empire had celebrated when her engagement to Adrian was announced.
The future Emperor and House Valmont united.
Political stability for generations.
At least in theory.
Marian smiled.
"Then Father can stop worrying."
The Duke raised an eyebrow.
"About what?"
"The Empire."
"I worry about many things."
"Not this one."
The Duke studied her.
Then smiled faintly.
"Confident?"
"Shouldn’t I be?"
"That depends."
"On?"
"Whether Adrian has finally realized how troublesome you are."
Marian gasped.
"Betrayal."
"You’ll survive."
The words sounded strangely familiar.
Later that afternoon, Marian attended a small tea gathering hosted by Marchioness Bellrose.
Normally she would have declined.
Today she was curious.
Because there was only one topic the capital wanted to discuss.
Elena Hart.
The moment Marian entered, she heard the name.
Predictable.
Absolutely predictable.
A cluster of noblewomen occupied the central lounge.
The moment Marian approached, they straightened.
"Lady Marian."
"Good afternoon."
"Your Grace."
Marian smiled politely.
The conversation resumed almost immediately.
As expected.
"Countess Everett has completely lost her mind."
"Oh, don’t be cruel."
"I am being realistic."
"Inviting a commoner to the Spring Banquet is scandalous."
"She did save the Countess’s life."
"That doesn’t make her noble."
Marian accepted a cup of tea.
Quietly listening.
Gathering information.
Exactly as she’d done in the novel.
Except now it felt much less dramatic.
The way they spoke, one would think Elena had conquered the Empire overnight.
In reality she was simply a healer.
A talented one, admittedly.
Months earlier, Countess Roselyn Everett had fallen gravely ill.
Every physician in the capital had failed.
Then Elena appeared.
And somehow succeeded.
The Countess never forgot it.
That was all.
Nothing mysterious.
Nothing magical.
Just kindness rewarded.
Honestly, Marian found the entire situation rather charming.
Then again, she wasn’t the one threatened by a commoner entering noble society.
Several women clearly were.
"Apparently His Highness spoke with her."
Marian looked up.
Ah.
There it was.
The topic everyone actually cared about.
"Only briefly."
"Not briefly."
"I heard nearly fifteen minutes."
"Impossible."
"That is what I heard."
Marian sipped her tea.
Unbothered.
Completely unbothered.
Because fifteen minutes meant nothing.
Half the ballroom had spoken with Elena.
Of course Adrian had too.
He was the Crown Prince.
Speaking with notable guests was practically part of his job.
The noblewomen continued debating.
Marian stopped listening.
Instead she looked out the window.
The garden beyond swayed gently in the afternoon breeze.
A memory surfaced.
The original novel.
This banquet.
This exact period.
The beginning of everything.
And yet...
Reality felt different.
Smaller somehow.
Less dramatic.
Perhaps because she wasn’t reading words on a page anymore.
Perhaps because Adrian wasn’t merely a character.
He was Adrian.
The man she’d known for most of her life.
The man she planned to marry.
The man who loved her.
Marian smiled.
No.
She wasn’t worried.
Not even a little.
The novel had underestimated one thing.
Time.
Stories made it seem easy.
One meeting.
One conversation.
One spark.
Reality wasn’t like that.
Reality was built from years.
Years of trust.
Years of memories.
Years of choosing the same person over and over again.
Elena Hart might be the heroine.
But Marian was the woman Adrian had spent eighteen years loving.
The difference felt impossible to overcome.
Across the room, the noblewomen continued gossiping.
Outside, the afternoon sun slowly began to set.
And somewhere in the Imperial Palace, fate quietly took another step forward.
Marian never noticed.
Why would she?
Everything was still exactly as it should be.
Or so she believed.