*Chapter Two: A Stranger Among Shadows*
The sun had barely risen when the palace came alive.
Maya stood by the wide arched window, staring out at the manicured gardens that stretched toward the horizon. Morning mist hung low over the hedges and marble fountains, the scene too perfect—like a painting she didn't belong in. Her breath fogged the glass. She touched it lightly, grounding herself.
She hadn't slept. Her body, Seraphina's body, had lain in bed for hours, but her mind had refused to rest. The memory of the court assembly replayed again and again—Alaric's eyes, the heavy silence of the nobles, the tension that gripped the air like a coiled wire. She'd survived her first trial, but just barely.
"Milady?"
The maid from the day before—Talia, Maya had learned—entered with a fresh pitcher of warm rose water and a quiet gaze. Her presence was calm, almost shy.
"I've drawn your bath and set out your attire for the morning," she said softly.
Maya nodded, offering a faint smile. "Thank you, Talia."Talia hesitated before speaking again. "Your cousin, Lady Evelyne, sent word. She wishes to take breakfast with you in the eastern courtyard."
Maya tensed. *Lady Evelyne.* A name from Seraphina's past surfaced like a stone tossed in water. Cousin by blood, rival by ambition. Beautiful, calculating, and always a few steps behind Seraphina in rank but not in influence. Their relationship in the novel had been strained, full of veiled barbs and poisoned smiles.
This breakfast invitation was not a gesture of goodwill. It was a test.
"Tell her I accept," Maya said, her voice steady despite her pulse.
Talia bowed and disappeared into the inner room.
Maya turned back to the window. This world was beautiful—but treacherous. She would need to learn quickly, listen even more carefully, and trust no one completely.
***
The eastern courtyard looked like a place plucked from a dream—stone arches covered in vines, a gentle stream running through a marble fountain, and two breakfast trays laid out beneath a flowering willow.
Evelyne was already seated, sipping tea with an elegance that looked practiced. Her hair was a rich auburn, twisted into a braided crown, and her lilac gown shimmered in the early light. Her smile was warm—but her eyes were ice."Dearest cousin," she said sweetly, rising. "You look… refreshed."
Maya smiled politely as she sat. "I find a good night's sleep can work wonders."
Evelyne laughed—a soft, musical sound. "If only sleep could ease the weight of political scandal. The court is *very* curious about your latest maneuver with the Arden lands."
Straight to the point.
"I'm sure the court will find clarity soon," Maya replied. "Misunderstandings often clear with time and truth."
Evelyne studied her for a moment, stirring her tea slowly. "You're different, Seraphina."
Maya stilled.
"Your tone. Your posture. Your words. So… patient." Evelyne sipped delicately. "Are you playing a new game?"
Maya leaned forward slightly, letting the sunlight catch the emerald in her ring. "No, Evelyne. I'm just tired of playing *yours*."
For a heartbeat, the mask on Evelyne's face slipped—but only briefly.
Maya didn't flinch. If this world wanted a villainess, she'd give them a version with sharper edges and wiser eyes.
***
Later that morning, a scroll arrived bearing the royal seal—an invitation from Prince Alaric himself. Maya read it twice, trying to decode the cold politeness of the words.
She was summoned for a private audience.
Her stomach twisted—not from fear, but anticipation.She dressed carefully. Today, she chose sapphire blue—a color that echoed strength, dignity, and just enough softness to temper Seraphina's infamous image. Her hair was pinned high, with only a few strands loose at her temples. When she entered the receiving hall, she carried herself like a queen, not a castoff fiancée.
Alaric stood by the window, hands clasped behind his back. When he turned, his expression was unreadable.
"You handled yourself well yesterday," he said. "Better than expected."
"I wasn't aware expectations were high," she replied, standing tall.
A ghost of a smile flickered at the corner of his lips—but it didn't last.
"You're walking a fine line, Seraphina. The court is restless. Some nobles want blood. Others want spectacle. You've given them both."
Maya met his gaze. "And what do *you* want, Your Highness?"
Alaric stepped closer, eyes narrowing. "I want peace. And stability. Your schemes have made that harder to secure."
"I don't deal in schemes," Maya said. "Not anymore."
He studied her as if trying to decide whether to believe her—or expose her. At last, he turned away.
"You'll attend the Winter Conclave in three days," he said. "If you want to prove your loyalty to the crown, you'll speak in favor of the Truce Act."The Truce Act. Maya remembered it from the novel—an agreement meant to curb the brewing conflict between the northern provinces and the capital. Seraphina had publicly opposed it, earning more enemies than allies.
This was her chance to choose differently.
"I will speak wisely," she said. "And with purpose."
Alaric didn't look back. "For your sake, I hope that's true."
***
That night, Maya sat at her writing desk, fingers hovering over parchment. She scribbled notes—names, timelines, alliances she remembered from the book. Her memories were still fragmented, but she was piecing them together like a broken mirror.
A soft knock came at her door.
"Come in."
Talia stepped in, holding a letter. "This was slipped under the servants' door. No seal."
Maya took it and broke the wax. Inside was a short message in sharp, angular script:
*"We know you're not her. Careful, little imposter."*
Maya's blood ran cold.
Someone knew.
And that meant her time to prepare had just shortened.
But instead of fear, a strange calm settled over her. She folded the note, eyes narrowing.
If someone was watching… she'd give them something worth watching.