And that was what made her powerful. But she could not help but let her thoughts wander to something else.
Despite all that, that was not the full extent of what she was capable of; there was something else about her. an ability she had developed recently out of nowhere.
A few weeks ago, something extraordinary had begun to stir within her, something that defied even her understanding of magic.
It had started subtly, almost imperceptibly at first. She had begun seeing faint mirages flicker before her eyes, shadows of the world that seemed… slightly off, as if the present were splitting in two. For a few days, she had worried she was unwell, that perhaps the strain of study, training, and isolation was fracturing her mind.
But the visions persisted. And then, gradually, they sharpened. She could see the environment around her not only as it was, but as it would be, a few seconds ahead. Leaves stirred before the wind reached them, footsteps echoed before they were taken. The moment she had glimpsed Alaric approaching the courtyard and knew, instantly, with clarity, that he would trip on the stone path, she realized she was witnessing something far beyond normal perception.
Foresight.
It was astonishing. Unheard of. People did not, could not, develop such abilities, not ever, well not in what she had read at least. There was always bound to be a hidden powerhouse somewhere, or some unique entities, but she had discovered nothing in the histories to explain this. It was unique. Purely hers.
She had studied diligently, of course, devouring every volume, every record of magic, combat, and anomalies. Yet nowhere did she find precedent. No hint of anyone in human history spontaneously glimpsing the immediate future like this or anything similar, that was not bound to the existing power structure. It was raw, wild, and completely unparalleled.
And yet, Jasmine had taken it in stride. Extra strength was welcome. Extra perception, even more so. She had never been under any illusion that the world was safe simply because she was the emperor's daughter. The human domain was vast, but peril was woven into every corner of it, as well as beyond it. Alliances shifted. Threats emerged unbidden. Knowledge, power, and cunning were the only true safeguards.
It was annoying at first. Her control over the ability was poor. And the information flooding her mind was overwhelming, so she quickly learned to control the ability, to activate when she wanted it to.
Well, even though it still activated on its own sometimes, like when Alaric tripped. But the ability still had its limitations. For now, the most she could do was glimpse anywhere between a second and ten seconds ahead. The further ahead she looked, the more of her mana that would be used.
So she adapted. She allowed the ability to sharpen, training her mind to read the subtle threads of time, the faint ripple of what was coming next. Each heartbeat, each step, each flicker of shadow offered insight, and she learned to integrate foresight seamlessly into her practice. It was as if the world itself were offering her a gift, and she would not squander it.
Extra strength. Extra clarity. Extra advantage. In this world, that was all one could ever ask for.
...
Jasmine left the training room. The cool stone corridors of the imperial castle greeted her with their familiar echo, the sound of her own steps accompanied by the distant murmur of servants and the occasional clatter of armor.
She turned a corner, and just as she had foreseen, there she was.
Scarlet.
Seventeen years old. Spirited. A streak of untamable color in a world too rigid for her liking. Her laughter carried before she spoke, bright and careless, bouncing against the stone walls.
Jasmine's instinct was immediate: turn. But the hall was too narrow, and Scarlet had already seen her.
"Little sister!"
The words rang with far too much enthusiasm.
Scarlet's eyes lit up, and she broke into a near run, her arms opening wide for what could only be described as an ambush of affection.
Jasmine sighed softly.
"Of course," she muttered.
The air shimmered faintly around her eyes.
Jasminen swiftly dipped to the side, her movement so fluid it looked almost premeditated.
In truth, it was.
She had seen the moment a heartbeat before it happened. Scarlet's arms cut through empty air, her momentum carrying her forward as she stumbled a half-step.
"Jasmine!" Scarlet huffed, spinning around with exaggerated indignation. Her bright crimson hair, a reflection of her name, swayed as she planted her hands on her hips. "You dodged me again!"
Jasmine's lips curved into the faintest smile. "I prefer to keep my bones intact."
"You're impossible," Scarlet said, though the grin creeping across her face betrayed her amusement. "You spend all day hiding, and when I finally see you, you won't even say hello properly."
Jasmine exhaled softly, brushing an invisible speck of dust from her sleeve. "Hello, Scarlet."
"That doesn't count," Scarlet said immediately, stepping closer with that unstoppable, youthful energy. "You say it like you're reading a weather report."
"I suppose that's accurate. My forecast predicts rain, in the form of your dramatics."
Scarlet gasped, scandalized, but the sparkle in her eyes showed she was delighted. "You've been spending too much time with books. You need people, Jasmine! Sunshine! Music! Maybe even fun?"
"Fun," Jasmine echoed dryly. "How dreadful."
Scarlet laughed, the sound bright enough to make a few passing servants glance their way. She linked her arm through Jasmine's before the young girl could slip away again. "Come on. You can at least walk with me. Father's hosting a dinner tonight, did you forget?"
"I didn't," Jasmine said, allowing herself to be pulled along. "I was hoping to pretend I did."
Scarlet giggled. "You're terrible."
"You mean efficient," Jasmine corrected.
As they walked, Jasmine allowed her eyes to wander around, taking in the sights with a bored expression. She could not hear a thing her sister was saying; she kept mumbling to herself.
And Scarlet, oblivious, kept chattering beside her about dresses, dances, and some young noble who had apparently written her a dreadful poem. Jasmine half-listened, half-watched.
Despite herself, she felt the faint tug of affection. Scarlet was loud, impulsive, everything Jasmine was not, and yet, somehow, she made the cold halls feel less empty.
"Jasmine?"
Jasmine blinked, realizing Scarlet had stopped walking and was staring at her with a sly grin.
"You were smiling just now."
"I was not."
"You were," Scarlet insisted, delighted by the rare victory. "I saw it!"
Jasmine's expression settled back into calm neutrality. "A trick of the light."
Scarlet only laughed harder, linking arms again. "Sure it was, little sister. Sure it was."