A few days had passed since her last meeting with her father, and those days were enough to plant something invisible in Marquis Holsten's mind:
doubt.
Not doubt in his daughter… but doubt in the world shifting around him without notice.
Among all the voices in the palace, Neris's voice was the only one carrying a certainty that could not be ignored.
That afternoon, her father summoned her to his office.
The spacious office, which had once felt endless with trade ledgers and accounts, suddenly felt constricted.
Neris entered with quiet steps, standing before him with an unusual discipline.
He lifted his head from the papers, resting his fingers on his cheek in deep thought before speaking in a low, sharp voice:
"I want to understand, Neris… how did you learn about the war decision?"
She looked at him with the calm, mature coldness of someone far beyond a twelve-year-old girl.
"I watched."
He raised an eyebrow.
"You watched?"
She nodded.
"Over the past months, ever since the Emperor seized the iron and steel factory… I observed the unusual movements of the Imperial Palace.
The palace requested doubled quantities of wheat—and that only happens for one reason: preparing to mobilize the army."
She paused for a moment, then added confidently:
"The war isn't a possibility, Father. It's an announcement that hasn't yet been read aloud."
Marquis Holsten pondered.
This was no child's analysis… it was cold strategic intelligence, an eye that missed nothing.
"And what do you propose?"
Neris stepped closer.
She placed the papers she had prepared over the past days on his desk.
"This is our family's plan for survival."
He scanned the headlines, astonishment growing in his eyes, as her plan included:
switching crop production to essential grains, investing in modern food preservation technology, forming a monopolistic partnership with the army, turning the crisis into a long-term network of influence through alliances.
He looked up at her, stunned.
She smiled in triumph, knowing she had finally drawn her father to her side—and soon, she would pull the rest along.
"I understand."
She pulled another sheet from the stack:
"At the start of the war, the army will need three things:
weapons, men… and food."
The Marquis focused on her as if sitting before a commercial expert, not his daughter.
"While the Emperor will focus on producing weapons… we can control the food.
Our family lands are vast, but currently planted with luxury crops of no strategic value.
We must immediately convert them to grains—wheat, barley, oats."
Her father shook his head deeply.
"That would be the first measure… but what of the losses? This shift is costly."
"The real loss," she said firmly, "would be entering the war without economic protection."
Then she continued, her eyes sharp:
"And the greatest gain… canned foods. A new industry, neglected by everyone, yet revolutionary in wartime.
We can store months of provisions and supply the soldiers without spoilage."
He asked,
"So… we would be the first to produce this on a large scale in the empire?"
"Yes. And it will be easy to convince the Trade Council to register the patent under the Holsten name as the first family to produce it…
If we act quickly, being a family that supports science and arts, it will simultaneously benefit the scientists who devised the canning theory. We win both sides: science and industry."
The Marquis took a deep breath while she continued.
"This will make us the army's primary partner… and grant us influence we've never had before."
"And the Emperor himself will have to protect us," she added, her gaze sharp, unbefitting her age.
"And after the war… we can return to our old crops, having preserved an entirely new industry for ourselves."
Marquis Holsten sat in long, heavy silence…
Very long.
Then he spoke slowly, as if discovering something that had been before him all along yet unseen:
"Neris… do you realize that this plan… could change the family's status for years to come?"
She looked at him confidently.
"I know, Father. We'll have to move quickly—barely a year and a half will suffice."
He sighed, stood, and for the first time in years, placed his hand on her shoulder.
"You've done well."
She smiled without hesitation.
It didn't take long for Cecile to notice the change in the palace atmosphere.
Her father's steps, Neris's frequent visits to the office… all stirred unease.
The moment of truth came when she opened her father's office door one morning, only to see Neris emerging with a light smile and unmistakable confidence.
Cecile froze.
"Father?" she said sharply.
But her father brushed past without a glance:
"Not now, Cecile. I need to arrange some contracts."
The servant closed the door behind him.
Cecile's fingers trembled.
She was used to being the "favorite daughter"—quiet, refined, beautiful, always in her father's attention, never ignored.
While Neris had always been merely a shadow, following her around, under her control.
But that shadow was beginning to take form in ways Cecile did not like.
At night, she sat in her room with her trusted maid, Julie.
"Julie…"
Cecile said as Julie combed her long hair.
"Have you noticed… that Neris has been going to Father's office a lot?"
Julie nodded.
"The servants are wondering why, my lady. It's unusual behavior."
A poisonous spark lit in Cecile's eyes.
"Then… make them wonder more."
Her maid raised her head, eager to understand.
"I want you to tell the servants… that Neris has become eccentric.
She spends hours in the library, refuses to see Henry, speaks sharply, and… lacks proper manners."
Julie smiled knowingly.
"I understand."
But Cecile wasn't done.
She stood before the mirror, scrutinizing her haughty reflection:
"Then now, we must visit my stepmother… she'll intervene, because I'm concerned for my little sister."
She smiled beautifully, yet the danger beneath it was sharper than poison.
Julie bowed.
"As you wish, my lady."
Cecile went to her father's office after visiting the Marchioness in the early afternoon, painting hesitation and concern across her face.
"Good evening, Marquis."
He glanced at her without interest.
"If it's not urgent, we can postpone until the evening; I am busy."
She rushed her words, feigning anxiety:
"It is urgent, Father, regarding my sister Neris."
"What about Neris?"
"In truth, Father… I am very worried about my sister.
She is not herself at all. She locks herself in the library all day, refuses to go out with me, even avoids meeting Mr. Henry.
The maids said they've found her talking to herself sometimes… and her behavior, as you know, lacks some manners."
She stepped forward, as if closing the distance would give her words more weight.
"It seems she needs more time to learn what is proper for a girl of our family. Her debut ball is in a year and a half… and if she appears in society like this, it will harm our family's reputation. Rumors will be merciless, and it may affect her marriage prospects."
The Marquis lifted his gaze to his eldest daughter, whose debut had caused a stir in high society. Even his friends, who had never seen her, had heard her name from their wives.
That glow around her made him feel a delicious pride; this is how a Holsten should present themselves—an imposing presence without permission.
From his point of view—if someone's influence is not tangible, they are a burden to the family name.
He leaned back in his chair, a calm smile on his lips, but the gleam of ambition in his eyes was clear.
Neris had surprised him with her sharp intellect and natural composure despite her isolation.
He saw in her a raw gem, needing only the right pressure to shine.
If he invested in her education… her gains would be political, economic, then social, in the order he preferred.
Only then might his family rise to become the second most powerful after the Emperor.
Finally, speaking as if awarding Cecile a medal of virtue:
"Neris is fortunate to have an elder sister who cares for her.
I will speak to the Marchioness about this… and summon private tutors for her."
Cecile smiled gratefully.
"Thank you, Father, for your support. I also have another request—may I supervise Neris's educational progress?"
"Cecile, my beautiful daughter, it seems your bond with your sister is strong."
The Marquis's expression hardened.
"But no, I will oversee this myself. If any of my children lack proper manners, I will ensure they learn everything personally, or it could bring disgrace to our family name—and that is unacceptable."
The next afternoon, Neris sat in the backyard, reading a book to appear busy, while in truth she was organizing the upcoming events to understand what was happening and prepare herself.
She heard approaching footsteps.
"Neris…"
She looked up.
Henry stood before her, elegantly dressed, wearing a forced smile.
She smiled faintly.
"Mr. Henry."
He sat without invitation.
"I tried to see you yesterday… and the day before."
"I know."
He asked directly:
"Then why does the young lady avoid me?"
She closed her book slowly, staring into his eyes.
"Perhaps I am young, but I am not stupid. I know what is in Mr. Henry's mind."
His eyes widened.
"What do you mean?"
"That you… do not come for me."
She said it calmly and decisively.
"You are here for Cecile, not me."
Henry's face flushed.
Neris smiled bitterly.
"You love my sister, so the idea of befriending me seems useless to you. You don't care about me at all."
Henry froze.
He had not expected this.
Had not expected her to see his feelings so clearly.
"How… how did you know?"
She answered simply:
"Human feelings aren't a mystery. You were looking at her completely differently."
He had no words.
She said:
"And now I save you the time—giving you an excuse to approach her."
She stepped past him and laughed lightly with bitterness, tilting her reddened ear.
"I'm helping you in this way. Mr. Henry should be grateful."
She took a step to leave.
But Henry suddenly grabbed her hand.
"Then help me to the end. You cannot leave every time. You know our meetings, as playmates or study partners, are only an excuse—the goal is to strengthen the ties between our families, meaning that in the future there could be talks of a potential engagement between us."
Neris pulled her hand back immediately, feeling a heavy weight drop in her stomach.
Yes, this was exactly what Cecile had told her in her previous life, and she, foolishly, had imagined a happy future with Henry.
She said coldly:
"I will not allow a relationship to be forced upon me, nor am I interested in Mr. Henry."
Henry raised an eyebrow in surprise.
"You speak… in a completely different tone."
"Because I am different."
He was silent for a few seconds… then spoke softly:
"If you are truly as clever as you seem… I will ask a favor of you."
Neris looked at him cautiously.
Henry smiled shyly.
"Help me… to get closer to Cecile."
Neris laughed internally.
The irony was sharp and painful… that he would selfishly ask her for help.
"Why should I help you? I already let you see her. That is more than I can offer."
He replied:
"Ignoring me every time isn't a solution. Reports reach both our fathers about our relationship progress. Avoidance will only harm the relations between our families, and I don't think you want to anger the Marquis."
Neris thought internally.
He was right. Her father knew everything.
She remembered clearly the moment her father had summoned her to his office in the morning.
The sunlight streaming through the window behind him reflected on his face, sharpening his features. His gaze fixed on her made her heart tighten without knowing why.
He spoke in a calm, metallic-tinged voice:
"Your sister Cecile came to me… she was very concerned about you. I had no choice but to listen.
And I wondered… why do you refuse to sit with Henry? He's a smart boy. Speaking with him will be good for you."
Neris lifted her head slightly, keeping her voice steady:
"I'm just a little busy these days.
And I have different thoughts from Mr. Henry… so I don't think we would be suitable friends."
He did not like the answer.
The Marquis leaned back slowly, as if giving himself time to calm a hidden anger, before saying in a low, dangerous voice:
"My youngest daughter…
You have no friends, you refuse to stay with Henry… and refuse your elder sister too.
Do you plan to live an isolated social life? Is that what you want?"
She opened her mouth to defend herself:
"No… it's not like that, I—"
But he cut her off sternly, making her shiver inside:
"You are clever, Neris. Yes… but you have a clear social deficiency.
A noblewoman's power doesn't lie in politics or economy. This is a world with no place for women.
Her true strength lies in her social connections.
Without them… you are useless."
The words froze in her throat.
He observed her expressions closely, noting every twitch, every shadow of discomfort that appeared despite herself. Then he continued slowly:
"Your sister Cecile suggested we bring tutors.
And if you are not prepared… I will let Cecile handle your social training."
Her eyes widened in shock, unable to hide it.
The question struck her heart like a dagger:
Would she again fall under Cecile's control? Would she be allowed to be manipulated again?
After all she had proven… all her effort and abilities…
Did he see her as nothing without social power and superficial connections?
Her father's voice pierced her reverie again, this time lower… more dangerous:
"Do you have an objection to your sister's suggestion?"
Her lashes fluttered as she caught her breath, a delicate—fake—smile appearing on her lips.
"No, Father… of course not.
I am very grateful for your care… you and my sister.
And I will follow your decisions gladly."
Inside… she felt a heavy chill, as if falling into a dark well.
She looked at Henry, standing in front of her, puzzled by her prolonged silence, while Neris sank into her thoughts again.
"Good. Perhaps this is a real opportunity to learn. I won't deny that the Marquis is right. In this world, a woman's standing lies in her social power. I will be stronger than the strongest woman ever."
She replied to Henry confidently:
"Since that's your opinion, I agree on this point. I won't refuse you every time, so let's pretend we are on good terms—but I have no intention of helping you get close to Cecile."
She turned to him suddenly as she was about to leave.
"Oh… unless you find a way it will come back to me through your help."
She continued walking.
"Goodbye, Mr. Henry. Consider our meeting over for today."
And when Henry returned home…
And when rumors began spreading in the Marquis's palace about Neris's eccentric behavior…
And when the Marquis closed his office on new plans that would change the empire…
Neris was alone in her room.
She looked in the mirror.
Saw her small features… with the mind of a woman returned from death, to a life that had once been hell.
And she said to herself:
"Everything changes…
And everyone will reap what they sowed.
This time… I will not be the victim."