The golden carriage bearing the imperial crest rolled into the academy courtyard.
Students lined the path, whispering in excitement and fear. Knights stepped down first, forming a protective line. And then—
He appeared.
Lucien Verentis, Crown Prince of the Empire.
Tall, graceful, and frighteningly composed. Dressed in black with a crimson sash, he walked like a man who ruled already. His gaze swept over the crowd, searching.
And then—he saw her.
Evelyne Ardent.
Standing at the top of the marble stairs.
She wore her academy uniform like it was royal silk. Her silver eyes didn't waver.
Lucien stopped.
The crowd went silent.
"Elève Ardent," he said, his voice echoing. "It's been a while."
Evelyne tilted her head. "Has it?"
"You've changed."
"You haven't."
Their words were sharp, like blades disguised in silk.
Lucien climbed the stairs—slow, deliberate. When he reached her, he leaned in just slightly.
"You were supposed to die."
"I did."
He paused.
Then smiled—a slow, unreadable expression.
"Then consider this a resurrection," he murmured.
She didn't flinch. "Don't mistake me for the same Evelyne."
"I'm counting on it."
Their eyes locked.
For a moment, it wasn't a school courtyard—it was a battlefield. No swords. No blood. But the tension? Suffocating.
Then Lucien turned, addressing the crowd.
"By my authority, I reinstate Lady Evelyne Ardent as Crown Princess candidate. Effective immediately."
Gasps erupted.
Even professors were stunned.
Evelyne's fingers twitched. So he came to reclaim her? Or to control her?
Either way…
She wouldn't play the same game twice.
Not without setting the board on fire.
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