Chapter 15.The story has change

The palace looked exactly the way I remembered it.

That was the first thought that crossed my mind when the carriage finally came to a stop.

I had seen it before, of course. I had seen it through the pages of the novel, imagined its halls while reading late at night, and built pictures of it in my head without ever realizing that one day I would actually be standing outside its gates. In the story, the royal palace had always been described as a place of beauty, power, and danger. I had thought those descriptions were exaggerated.

They weren't.

The enormous black gates rose in front of us, decorated with silver designs that caught the afternoon light. Beyond them stood the palace itself, its tall towers reaching toward the pale sky, their dark stone softened by climbing ivy and rows of white roses. Guards stood along the entrance, dressed in the royal colors, their weapons secured at their sides as they watched our carriage approach.

My fingers tightened around the dried flower Richard had given me before we left.

I hadn't realized I was still holding it until the carriage stopped completely.

Adrian noticed.

"You've been holding that since we left."

I glanced down at the small, fragile flower resting in my palm.

"I know."

"Why?"

I hesitated before answering.

"Because it belonged to my mother."

His expression softened.

He didn't ask anything else.

That was one thing I had begun to notice about Adrian. He could be demanding when he wanted answers, especially when something threatened the crown, but when it came to things that hurt me personally, he had started learning when to stop.

The carriage door opened.

A royal guard stepped forward and bowed.

"Your Highness."

Adrian stepped out first, then turned and offered his hand to me.

For a moment, I simply looked at it.

It was strange how such a small gesture could make me feel nervous.

In the novel, Adrian and Seraphina had been engaged for years. Their relationship had supposedly been complicated, full of misunderstandings, jealousy, and resentment. But the woman who had lived through those things wasn't entirely me.

At least, I didn't think she was.

I placed my hand in his.

His fingers closed gently around mine as he helped me down from the carriage.

The moment my feet touched the ground, I felt the atmosphere change.

The guards straightened.

Servants waiting near the entrance lowered their heads.

Everyone was watching us.

I suddenly became very aware of the fact that I was standing beside the Crown Prince of Aveloria with his hand still around mine.

Adrian seemed completely unaffected.

"Are you all right?" he asked quietly.

"Everyone is staring."

"They always do."

"That's supposed to make me feel better?"

A small smile appeared at the corner of his mouth.

"No. It was simply the truth."

I tried not to smile back.

I failed.

He noticed.

I could tell by the brief change in his expression before he turned toward the palace.

We walked through the gates together.

The moment I entered the courtyard, memories that weren't entirely mine stirred somewhere inside me.

Not enough to become visions.

Just small sensations.

The smell of roses.

The sound of water from a fountain.

The feeling of cold stone beneath my shoes.

I knew where the western gardens were without anyone pointing them out. I knew which staircase led toward the royal library. I knew there was a long corridor behind the main hall where portraits of former kings hung along the walls.

That frightened me more than I wanted to admit.

I had never been here in this life.

Yet some part of me knew the palace.

Adrian noticed my hesitation.

"You've been here before."

It wasn't a question.

I looked at him.

"I don't remember coming here."

"But you know where you're going."

I looked toward the corridor ahead.

"I don't know how."

He studied me for a moment before nodding.

"We don't have to understand everything today."

His words surprised me.

I expected him to insist that we investigate it immediately. Instead, he simply continued walking beside me.

Maybe he understood something I hadn't.

Not every strange thing needed an answer the moment it appeared.

Sometimes you needed time to breathe before deciding what to do with the truth.

We entered the palace through the main hall.

The room was even more impressive than I remembered from the novel. Tall windows stretched from the floor almost to the ceiling, allowing sunlight to spill across the polished marble. A massive staircase curved toward the upper floors, and several crystal chandeliers hung overhead.

People moved through the hall quietly.

Nobles stopped to bow whenever Adrian passed.

Some of them glanced at me with open curiosity.

I couldn't blame them.

The Crown Prince had returned from the Vale estate with me beside him, and judging from the looks on their faces, they had already begun inventing explanations.

I leaned closer to Adrian.

"Do they always look at you like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like they're trying to decide whether you're about to start a war."

He looked at me.

"Some of them are."

I blinked.

"You're joking."

"Not entirely."

I laughed softly despite myself.

The sound felt strange in the enormous hall.

For the first time since arriving in this world, I felt something close to normal.

Then a familiar voice interrupted the moment.

"Your Highness."

Adrian stopped.

A man in his late fifties approached us from the other side of the hall. He wore a dark blue coat embroidered with gold, and his posture carried the kind of confidence that came from spending many years inside royal walls.

Adrian's expression changed immediately.

The warmth disappeared.

"Lord Cedric."

The older man bowed.

"Welcome back."

His eyes moved toward me.

"Lady Seraphina."

I returned the greeting politely.

"Lord Cedric."

He smiled, but there was something calculating about it.

"I heard you had decided to remain at the palace for a while."

"I hadn't realized the entire palace already knew."

His smile widened slightly.

"News travels quickly here."

I could tell Adrian didn't like the conversation.

"She will be staying in the eastern wing."

Lord Cedric's eyebrows lifted.

"Of course."

He looked between us.

"Should I inform Her Majesty?"

"Yes."

"She will want to see Lady Seraphina."

A strange feeling settled in my stomach.

The Queen.

In the novel, she had been one of the characters I never completely understood. She wasn't openly cruel to Seraphina, but she had rarely defended her either. She remained distant whenever accusations began spreading, and her silence had always bothered me.

I knew very little about what she was like before the original story reached its darker chapters.

Now I was going to meet her.

"Very well," Adrian said. "Tell her we will see her after Seraphina has settled in."

Lord Cedric bowed again.

"As you wish."

He walked away.

I watched him disappear through another corridor.

"Who is he?" I asked.

"Royal adviser."

"Do you trust him?"

Adrian didn't answer immediately.

That was enough of an answer.

I turned toward him.

"You don't."

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't have to."

He gave me a sideways glance.

"You've become very observant."

"I've had to."

His expression grew serious.

"That is precisely why I need you to be careful here."

The lightness between us disappeared.

"I know."

"No, Seraphina."

His voice was quieter now.

"You know that there are people watching. You don't yet know who they are."

I looked around the hall.

Suddenly, the palace felt different.

The beautiful chandeliers seemed less welcoming. The polished floors seemed colder.

I thought about the novel again.

This was the place where Seraphina's life had eventually fallen apart.

This was where whispers had turned into accusations.

Where people she trusted had stood silently while her reputation was destroyed.

Where Adrian had eventually signed the order that ended her life.

Except that wasn't supposed to happen yet.

And maybe it wouldn't happen at all.

"Adrian."

He looked at me.

"Why did you bring me here?"

"I told you. The palace has resources we don't have at the estate."

"That's not what I mean."

He waited.

I lowered my voice.

"You could have investigated everything without me. You could have kept me at the estate where it was safer. Why bring me into the middle of this?"

His gaze remained on mine.

"Because I don't want you facing it alone."

The answer was so simple that I didn't know what to say.

He looked away first.

"Come on."

We continued toward the eastern wing.

My room was larger than the one I had occupied at the Vale estate. A wide bed stood against the far wall, covered with white and silver bedding. There was a writing desk near the window, a wardrobe large enough to hold more clothes than I could possibly wear, and a small sitting area near the fireplace.

Two servants were already waiting inside.

They bowed as we entered.

"Lady Seraphina."

I nodded.

"Thank you."

They exchanged surprised looks.

I couldn't help smiling.

Apparently, Seraphina wasn't known for thanking servants.

That realization bothered me.

The woman whose body I had inherited had been described in the novel as proud, difficult, and sometimes cruel. Yet the more I learned about her past, the less certain I became that the story had told me everything.

Maybe people had only remembered the version of Seraphina that was easiest to blame.

Adrian walked toward the door.

"I'll leave you to settle in."

I turned toward him.

"Wait."

He stopped.

I hadn't planned to say anything.

Now that he was actually leaving, I suddenly felt the strange urge to ask him to stay.

It was ridiculous.

I barely knew him.

At least, not the way he knew Seraphina.

But somewhere along the way, his presence had become comforting.

"What is it?" he asked.

I looked down at the flower in my hand.

"Nothing."

He didn't move.

"You're a terrible liar."

I looked up.

"That isn't fair."

"It is."

A smile touched his lips.

"Get some rest. I'll send word before dinner."

"All right."

He started to leave.

"Adrian?"

He looked back.

"Thank you."

His expression softened.

"For what?"

"For believing me."

He was quiet for a moment.

Then he said, "I'm still trying to."

I frowned.

He smiled faintly.

"But I'm getting there."

Then he left.

I stood there for several seconds after the door closed.

One of the servants quietly asked if I needed anything.

"No. Thank you."

They left soon afterward, giving me privacy.

Once I was alone, I finally allowed myself to sit on the edge of the bed.

The room was quiet.

Too quiet.

I looked around.

This was supposed to be my life now.

A palace room.

Royal servants.

A prince who was supposed to become my enemy.

A dead mother whose secrets seemed to reach further than I had imagined.

A father who had spent years hiding the truth.

And a story that was no longer following the pages I remembered.

I reached into my travel bag and pulled out the novel.

The cover was worn now from how often I had handled it.

I placed it on the desk and opened it.

The pages were still there.

I turned toward the later chapters.

The ones I remembered most clearly.

Moon Festival.

Seraphina's downfall.

Adrian's order.

Her death.

I stopped before reaching the final pages.

I couldn't do it.

Not because I was afraid of what they said.

Because I was beginning to understand that the words might not matter anymore.

The story had already changed.

Adrian had arrived early.

The dagger had appeared.

The Order had found me.

I had remembered part of a death that wasn't supposed to be remembered.

And now I was inside the palace long before the original story said I should be.

Maybe the book wasn't a prophecy anymore.

Maybe it was simply a record of what would have happened if nobody interfered.

I closed it.

A knock came at the door.

I turned.

A young maid entered carrying a tray.

"Lady Seraphina, His Highness sent this."

She placed the tray on the table.

Tea and a small plate of pastries.

I looked at her.

"He sent tea?"

"Yes, my lady."

"Did he say why?"

She smiled.

"He said you had probably forgotten to eat."

I stared at the tray.

That sounded exactly like something Adrian would say.

"Thank you."

After she left, I sat down and poured the tea.

I hadn't realized how hungry I was until I took the first bite.

For a few minutes, I simply ate.

No secrets.

No visions.

No mysterious strangers.

Just tea and pastries in a quiet room.

It was almost painfully ordinary.

And I needed that.

I needed to remember that I was still a person beneath all the questions.

I wasn't just a key.

I wasn't a name on a parchment.

I wasn't the girl who had supposedly died twice.

I was still me.

Whatever that meant now.

Later that afternoon, someone came to escort me to the royal library.

Adrian was waiting outside.

"You said we weren't investigating today."

"We aren't."

"Then why are we going to the library?"

"Because you said you wanted answers."

"I did."

"You also said you wanted to understand your mother's investigation."

I nodded.

He opened the library doors.

"Then we start with something ordinary."

I stepped inside.

The royal library was enormous.

Rows upon rows of books stretched farther than I could see. Tall ladders rested against shelves, and large windows filled the room with golden light. The smell of old paper immediately reminded me of home.

I walked deeper inside.

Adrian followed.

"Where do we begin?"

"Your mother."

I looked at him.

He pointed toward a section near the back.

"Royal investigations are archived separately from ordinary records. If Victoria worked with the palace, there should be something here."

We spent nearly an hour searching.

There were records about trade disputes, border conflicts, noble families, old magical treaties, and royal marriages.

Nothing about the Order.

Nothing about Victoria.

I was beginning to lose patience when Adrian pulled a dusty box from the bottom shelf.

He placed it on the table.

"This isn't labeled."

"Maybe that's a good thing."

He opened it.

Inside were several old documents tied together with faded ribbon.

My breath caught when I saw my mother's handwriting.

I recognized it immediately.

Adrian noticed my expression.

"You've seen her handwriting before?"

"Yes."

I reached toward the papers but stopped.

For some reason, touching them felt more frightening than I expected.

"What if there is something I don't want to know?"

Adrian pulled out the chair beside mine.

"Then you don't have to read it."

I looked at him.

"You wouldn't stop me?"

"No."

"Even if you think it's dangerous?"

"I'd warn you."

He leaned back slightly.

"But the choice would be yours."

I looked down at the papers.

That was the first time anyone in this world had said that to me.

The choice would be yours.

I slowly untied the ribbon.

The first few documents were reports written in my mother's hand.

They weren't about me.

At least, not directly.

She had been investigating unusual disappearances among noble families. Several people had vanished and later returned with no memory of what had happened.

One sentence caught my attention.

Memory can be removed without destroying the person who carries it.

I read it twice.

Adrian leaned closer.

"What?"

I showed him.

He studied the page.

"This was written before your accident."

"How long before?"

He checked the date.

"Two years."

I felt something shift inside me.

Not another revelation.

Just a quiet understanding.

My mother had been investigating this long before I fell from the balcony.

That meant whatever happened to me had not been an isolated incident.

But I refused to turn that thought into another terrifying conclusion.

I had enough unanswered questions already.

We continued reading.

Most of the documents were incomplete. Some names had been crossed out. Others were missing pages.

Then Adrian found something.

He held up a small report.

"This one mentions the western balcony."

My body went still.

He noticed immediately.

"Do you want to stop?"

I shook my head.

"No."

He handed it to me.

I read the first line.

Incident involving Lady Seraphina Vale — restricted royal record.

My fingers tightened around the paper.

Below it was a short description of the accident.

The wording was cold.

Clinical.

There was no mention of my mother's grief.

No mention of Richard's fear.

No mention of Adrian holding an eleven-year-old girl's hand while she lay unconscious.

Only facts.

Date.

Location.

Witnesses.

Medical report.

Then one sentence had been added at the bottom.

Cause of fall undetermined.

I looked at Adrian.

"You knew this existed?"

"No."

"Then why was it hidden?"

"I don't know."

I folded the paper carefully.

For once, I didn't feel the need to chase the answer immediately.

There were things I needed to process.

My childhood.

My mother's investigation.

The fact that someone had tried to erase part of my memory.

And the possibility that the story I remembered had never been the complete truth.

Adrian watched me quietly.

"We can stop here."

I nodded.

"Yes."

We returned the documents to the box.

As we walked out of the library, the palace seemed quieter than before.

The sun was beginning to set beyond the tall windows.

I looked outside.

For the first time since arriving, I wasn't thinking about the Order.

I was thinking about my mother.

About the woman who had apparently spent years trying to protect me from something she couldn't defeat.

And I wondered what she would say if she could see me now.

Would she be proud?

Would she be afraid?

Or would she simply tell me to go home and lock every door?

A soft laugh escaped me.

Adrian glanced over.

"What?"

"My mother would hate this."

"What?"

"Me being in the palace."

He smiled.

"She probably would."

"You knew her."

"Not well."

"But enough."

He nodded.

"Enough to know she loved you."

I looked away.

That simple statement hurt more than I expected.

Because I wanted to hear my mother say it herself.

For a moment, I imagined her sitting beside me, complaining about how little I ate, fixing my hair, telling me to stop asking too many questions.

Then the image faded.

I swallowed and kept walking.

Adrian didn't comment.

He simply stayed beside me.

When we reached the eastern wing, he stopped.

"Dinner is in an hour."

"I'll be there."

He nodded.

Then, after a brief pause, he said, "Seraphina."

I looked at him.

"You don't have to be strong every minute."

The words caught me off guard.

He didn't wait for an answer.

He walked away.

I stood there watching him disappear down the corridor.

For once, I didn't follow.

I went into my room and closed the door.

The palace was still full of secrets.

I knew that.

But tonight, I didn't want another secret.

I wanted to sleep.

I wanted one night where I didn't wake from a memory or hear a stranger calling my name.

I changed into a simple nightdress and sat near the window.

Outside, the palace gardens were beginning to disappear beneath the darkness.

The moon rose slowly above the towers.

I touched the dried flower on the table.

Tomorrow, I would continue searching.

Tomorrow, I would decide what to do with everything I had learned.

But tonight, I allowed myself to remember that before I became Seraphina Vale, I had been someone else.

A girl who loved stories.

A girl who believed fictional characters were trapped by the words written about them.

A girl who had once wished she could enter a novel and change the ending.

I smiled sadly.

I had gotten exactly what I wished for.

I just hadn't understood the price.

As I closed my eyes, one thought stayed with me.

The story had brought me to the palace.

But for the first time, I wasn't afraid of what came next.

I was ready to find out what happened when a character refused to follow the ending written for her.