Recarnation of the villainess.

The weapon was heavier than expected.

Salira adjusted her grip, twisting her wrist and slicing forward with a sharp, clean motion. The blade wasn't real, not yet — this was only the prototype, forged from a mixture of metals she'd scavenged and recast herself. A new design. Sleek. Compact. A dual-trigger mechanism nestled under the hilt. A mix of science, elegance, and destruction.

Just like her.

She struck again. The training dummy cracked slightly under the force.

A familiar chill lingered nearby — and not from the wind.

Adam stood watching her silently from a shaded pillar, arms crossed over his chest. His eyes followed her every move with unnerving precision, as if he could see where her footing was wrong or how her left elbow angled too high.

> "It's lighter than the last," she muttered, pausing. "But the recoil might still—"

> "Your grip's too loose," Adam said simply.

She looked over her shoulder. "I'm trying."

> "Try harder."

> "Try being less smug."

A small twitch of his lips. Almost a smile. Almost.

She turned back toward the dummy. As she positioned herself again—

> "Well, well…"

The voice cut through the courtyard like poison slipping into wine.

From the stone steps above, Alpher descended slowly. Regal in his fitted military uniform, golden embroidery glinting under the sun, hair slicked back, the perfect picture of polished entitlement.

Salira froze.

Adam straightened.

> "This is a sight I never thought I'd see," Alpher continued, folding his hands behind his back like he was inspecting something beneath him. "Lady Salira. Playing with swords."

> Not today, Iris thought. I'm not in the mood.

> "You're forging weapons now?" he asked mockingly. "Do you think that makes you more impressive? You've always been… a bit theatrical."

> "And you've always been an arrogant child in a man's coat," Salira replied without turning.

A few of the soldiers nearby stiffened. Eyes widened. One even gasped.

Alpher blinked. "…Excuse me?"

She turned slowly. "I said—if you have to insult me just to feel important, at least try being original."

> "Fighting isn't for women," he muttered, narrowing his eyes. "Neither is weapon-making. That's a man's job."

> "Right. Like bleeding out on a battlefield while someone smarter saves your life from the sidelines?" she asked. "Definitely sounds manly."

Adam's brow twitched. His stare was sharp — not at her, but at Alpher.

A single step forward from Adam and the temperature dropped.

He didn't speak, didn't move much. But the glare he gave was enough to silence the entire courtyard. Every soldier turned their eyes elsewhere. One even pretended to sweep the dirt with his boot.

Alpher visibly tensed. His jaw clenched, but he said nothing else. He simply scoffed and turned on his heel, retreating without grace — his polished boots echoing behind him.

> Coward, Iris thought. And to think the original Salira loved him? Seriously?

She glanced down at her weapon again, heart still slightly racing — not from fear, but rage.

> The old Salira… she must've been delusional. Sure, she was the villainess, but she was powerful, feared. She was cunning.

And she wasted it all on a glorified golden retriever with daddy issues.

She snorted under her breath.

> "Something funny?" Adam asked, walking up to her side.

> "Just thinking how far I've come."

He studied her expression for a moment. Then, without smiling, he said quietly:

> "You handled that well."

She blinked.

> "Are you okay?" he asked after a pause.

Salira nodded. "Yeah. Fine."

> But Iris wasn't fine.

The way Adam's eyes lingered on her made her stomach flutter — but not out of fear or nerves.

Just… something strange.

Too early for that, she told herself.

Before she could spiral deeper, a palace guard approached swiftly with a bowed head.

> "Your Grace. Lady Salira. His Majesty has summoned both of you to the throne chamber. Immediately."

Adam's eyes darkened. "Both of us?"

> "Yes, Your Grace. He said… it was urgent."

Salira and Adam exchanged a glance.

The courtyard, once full of heat and tension, suddenly felt cold.

> Why now? Why the two of them?

Was this about the training? The weapons? Or something else entirely?

Iris felt a dull pulse in the back of her mind. The last time she felt like this — a storm followed.

As they turned to follow the guard, her thoughts whispered:

> Something's wrong.

> Something's coming.

> And it might not be just the Emperor waiting at the end of that hall.