The ladies' lounge fell silent once the lock clicked into place.
Kira remained seated beside the open window, her hands resting neatly in her lap as though nothing unusual had happened. The cheerful music from the banquet drifted faintly through the gardens outside, carried in by the cool spring breeze. It almost made the room feel peaceful.
Almost.
She slowly lifted her eyes and studied the room once more.
Last time, she hadn't seen any of this.
She had entered laughing softly after one of the noble ladies recommended a stronger perfume to calm her nerves before the first dance. By then, the sleeping herb hidden in her wine had already begun taking effect. She remembered feeling strangely tired, convincing herself she had simply skipped breakfast because of the excitement surrounding the banquet. Her vision had blurred shortly afterward, and before she realized something was wrong, darkness had swallowed everything.
When she finally woke... She hadn't been alone.
The memory made her stomach tighten.
She forced herself to breathe slowly before standing from the chair. There was no panic in her movements. If anything, she became calmer with every passing second. Panic had cost her one lifetime already. She refused to let it cost her another.
Instead of rushing toward the locked door, she began examining the room.
The lounge had been prepared for noble ladies needing a quiet place to rest during long banquets. Elegant sofas lined the walls, a polished vanity sat beneath a gilded mirror, and several scented candles burned beside porcelain vases overflowing with fresh flowers. At first glance, everything appeared perfectly ordinary.
It wasn't.
Kira walked toward the center of the room and lowered her gaze.
Someone had recently crossed the polished wooden floor wearing heavy boots.
The marks were faint enough that an ordinary guest would never notice them, but they stood out against the thin layer of dust that always gathered beneath the furniture. Noblewomen didn't wear riding boots inside banquet halls, and servants usually entered through another door.
Someone had been here before her.
She followed the trail until it stopped beside an inner doorway leading to a smaller resting chamber.
The room beyond remained empty.
The bed had been freshly made.
The curtains were neatly tied back.
Yet the air carried the unmistakable scent of candle smoke.
Kira's attention shifted toward the small brass candleholder resting on a side table.
The wax had only just hardened.
Someone had extinguished it moments ago.
"They were waiting for me..." The realization didn't frighten her.
It confirmed what she'd already suspected.
Her gaze swept across the chamber one careful inch at a time until something caught against the edge of a carved chair.
A single loose thread. Dark blue.
Thick wool.
She carefully picked it up between her fingers. Not servant's clothing. Military fabric.
Her brows drew together.
The mercenary.
In her previous life, everyone believed she'd willingly invited a strange man into the manor before being discovered together in this very suite. The scandal had spread through the capital before sunset, destroying her engagement overnight.
She had spent months insisting she had never met the man.
No one believed her.
Because every piece of evidence had pointed toward her guilt.
Kira slowly closed her fingers around the thread.
This time...
She was seeing the stage before the actors arrived.
A faint smile crossed her lips.
"If you're setting a trap," she murmured quietly, "then I should leave something behind as well."
Instead of restoring the room exactly as she'd found it, Kira deliberately walked toward one of the upholstered chairs and pulled it several inches away from its original position. The movement looked insignificant, but anyone carefully examining the room later would immediately realize furniture had been disturbed before any struggle supposedly occurred.
Next, she crossed to the window overlooking the eastern gardens and pushed it fully open.
Cool air swept into the chamber.
If investigators ever questioned how an unknown man entered or escaped the manor, an open window would immediately create doubt.
Finally, she removed a delicate silk handkerchief from her sleeve and lightly brushed away one of the clearer boot prints near the doorway while intentionally leaving the others untouched.
Not enough to erase them.
Only enough to make it obvious that several different sets of footprints had once overlapped.
Questions.
That was all she needed. She didn't have to prove her innocence today. She only had to ensure the lies weren't perfect.
A perfect lie was impossible to defeat. An imperfect one slowly unraveled itself.
The sound of hurried footsteps echoed outside the corridor. Kira immediately returned to the chair beside the window and sat down as though she had been peacefully enjoying the fresh air all along.
The footsteps stopped. Silence followed. Then the door slowly creaked open.
A young servant slipped inside carrying a neatly folded bundle wrapped in white linen. She couldn't have been older than seventeen.
The moment her eyes met Kira's, every trace of color vanished from her face.
She froze so completely that even her breathing seemed to stop. Her terrified expression told Kira everything.
This girl had expected an unconscious victim.
Not someone calmly watching her from across the room.
Neither of them spoke for several heartbeats.
The servant's eyes darted nervously toward the inner chamber before returning to Kira.
She looked trapped.
Like a frightened rabbit realizing the hunter had seen it.
Kira's voice remained gentle.
"So..." The girl flinched. "Who sent you?"
The question landed harder than an accusation.
The servant's lips parted, but no answer came.
Instead, her trembling hands loosened around the bundle she'd been carrying.
The cloth slipped from her fingers.
It struck the floor with a dull thud before unraveling across the polished wood.
A wide leather belt rolled free first.
Then a man's outer robe stained with spilled wine Finally...
A torn white undergarment. The girl's eyes widened in horror. She had ruined everything. This evidence wasn't supposed to appear until Kira was unconscious beside the mercenary.
Now it lay scattered across the floor in plain sight.
She stumbled backward.
"N-No..."
Her voice cracked.
"I..." She turned and fled before Kira could say another word.
The door slammed behind her.
Silence returned once more.
Kira didn't move.
She looked down at the items scattered across the floor before quietly shaking her head.
The servant had never been the mastermind.
She was only another frightened pawn.
Chasing her would accomplish nothing.
Someone intelligent enough to prepare every detail before Kira ever entered the room.
And people like that...
Rarely trusted servants to finish the job alone.
Kira slowly lifted her gaze toward the still-open doorway.
"They'll come themselves," she whispered.
"I only have to wait."
Outside the room, another pair of footsteps echoed steadily through the corridor.
Unlike the servant's frantic running, these steps were slow.
Measured. Confident.
Whoever was approaching had no intention of hiding anymore.