"The first factor is fate itself," I began. "Those with a strong destiny—balanced traits, a natural alignment with the elements—tend to seize opportunities, making their futures easier to predict. On the other hand, those with weak destinies—imbalanced traits, a passive nature—are much harder to foresee."


    "And the second?" Elias asked, his curiosity evident.


    I leaned back, a small smile tugging at my lips.


    "The second is proximity. Even I can’t predict my own fate. The closer someone is to you, the harder it is to read them accurately."


    I stood and took a seat beside him, leaning in to meet his gaze directly.


    "My father once said that the closer a seer becomes to someone, the more they use their abilities for that person, the greater the chance they may alter their fate entirely."


    Elias seemed caught off guard by my proximity, his eyes flicking to mine.


    "Like this?" he asked, his voice softer now.


    I chuckled behind my hand.


    "Not exactly. Only relationships like parent and child, husband and wife, or blood relatives are close enough to influence fate. For example, my mother’s life was meant to last a century, but my father’s interference cut it short—she didn’t even live to see thirty."


    I moved back to my seat and pushed the curtain aside, glancing out at the streets.


    "This isn’t the right route," I remarked.


    Elias cleared his throat.


    "I had them take a detour," he replied, his tone steady but guarded.


    "Did you ever meet my mother?" I asked, still watching the streets pass by.


    He hesitated, surprised by the sudden change in topic.


    "I didn’t, but she must have been a remarkable woman."


    "Perhaps your father met her," I said lightly, turning to face him.


    "My mother once lived near your family’s ancestral home. Nineteen years ago, a great fire swept through that area. It caused your family to move. Who knows? Maybe your father crossed paths with her back then."


    Elias frowned, as if something was on the tip of his tongue, but before he could respond, the carriage came to an abrupt halt.


    The curtains fell, food tumbled from its box, and I was thrown backward into his arms.


    Elias instinctively caught me, his hands steadying my shoulders.


    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings."What happened?" he demanded, glancing toward the door.


    I shifted away from his grasp, casting a sharp glance at his hand. He caught the look, quickly released me, and retreated to his side of the carriage.


    A voice called from outside.


    "It’s the carriage of the Crown Prince’s consort!"


    <hr>


    Upstairs at the tea house, I found my second sister, Summer, waiting, but she wasn’t the one who wanted to see me. The Crown Prince, Alaric, sat behind a long stone table, pouring tea with deliberate precision.


    He slid a cup toward me.


    "I heard from your sister that my father doesn’t have more than a year left. I want to know who dares to harm him. Tell me who’s behind it."


    I sipped the tea, lowering my gaze.


    "You poisoned him."


    The words hung in the air.


    Alaric froze, his hands gripping the edge of the table until his knuckles turned white.


    "Impossible," he whispered, his voice shaking. "I would never do such a thing. How could I—"


    I glanced around the dimly lit room, clicking my tongue as if in mild disapproval.


    "Your Highness, there’s no one else here. You should be pleased. Whether you’ve done it yet or not doesn’t matter. If one day you do, it will work."


    His head snapped up, his darkened eyes meeting mine. Suddenly, he seized the cup and hurled it against the wall, the sound of shattering porcelain ringing out.


    "I don’t believe you!" he shouted. "My father would never push me to that point!"


    I watched him carefully. He had already convinced himself—now he was searching for reasons to justify it.


    I rose to leave.


    "Wait." His voice was steady now, quieter but no less intense.


    "Why didn’t you choose me that day in the throne room? Don’t you believe I can succeed?"


    I paused mid-step.


    "That year, during the drought in the south," I said without turning, "you stayed for eight months, leading relief efforts. By the third month, the food stores were empty. By the sixth, you were slaughtering horses to feed the people."


    I turned to face him, my gaze steady.


    "Tell me, Your Highness, was it really horses you killed?"


    The faint light of the room cast long shadows across his face. Alaric stared at me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. A faint, bitter smile tugged at his lips.


    "The past is irrelevant. I only want to know—will you follow me if I succeed?"


    From somewhere in the darkness, the sound of a blade being drawn echoed softly. The flickering candlelight at the door wavered as if in fear.


    "If you succeed," I said evenly, "then I will follow."


    <hr>


    Leaving the room, I ran into Summer by the window. She tilted her head, her expression cold.


    "I knew you’d be fine," she said flatly.


    "Such faith in me, sister," I replied, feigning a hurt tone. "You’re so reassuring."


    She didn’t respond.


    I sat across from her, taking her untouched tea and drinking it myself.


    "I know you and Spring have never liked me. Fortunately, I’ve never needed approval. Just take care of yourselves."


    I didn’t know what lay ahead, but one thing was certain—it wouldn’t be peace.


    <hr>


    Half a month later, during the Mid-Autumn Festival, Corwin announced he would take Arianne to the palace to visit his cousin, the Imperial Consort.


    Bored, I sat by the pavilion, feeding the koi in the pond.


    Noticing my idleness, Arianne took my hand with a warm smile.


    "Come with us," she said brightly.