Chapter 2.The dagger with my name

I stared at the silver dagger in Adrian’s hand, unable to take my eyes away from the name engraved across its handle.

Seraphina Vale.

There was no way I could mistake it.

“I don't know anything about that dagger,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “I didn't try to kill you.”

Adrian's expression remained cold. “And you expect me to believe that?”

“Why wouldn't you? If I wanted to kill you, leaving a weapon with my own name on it would be the stupidest thing I could do.”

For a moment, he said nothing. His fingers tightened around the dagger before he finally lowered it.

“Someone entered my room last night,” he said. “I woke up when I heard movement near the window. By the time my guards arrived, the attacker was gone, and this was lying beside my bed.”

“Did you see the person's face?”

“No.”

“Then you don't know that it was me.”

“I don't.”

His answer caught me off guard.

I had expected him to accuse me without hesitation, just like he had in the novel. Instead, he seemed uncertain. The dagger was the only thing connecting me to the attack, and even Adrian appeared to understand that it wasn't enough to prove my guilt.

“Then someone planted it there,” I said.

“Why?”

“To make you suspect me.”

His eyes settled on mine. “Who would want to do that?”

“I don't know.”

That was the problem. I didn't know anything about what was happening anymore.

In the novel, Adrian was supposed to arrive at the Vale estate tonight. His visit would eventually become an important turning point in Seraphina's life, but there had been no attack and certainly no accusation of murder.

He had arrived a day early, and now everything was already different.

“Why did you come last night?” I asked.

Adrian's expression became more guarded. “Why does that matter?”

“Because I was told you were coming today.”

“I changed my plans.”

“Because of my father?”

“I had business with him.”

His answer was short, but I didn't press the matter. There were too many things I didn't understand, and asking too many questions might only make him more suspicious of me.

Before either of us could continue, the bedroom door opened and an older royal guard entered. He bowed to Adrian before speaking.

“Your Highness, we searched the eastern wing again as you ordered.”

“Did you find anything?”

“We found footprints beneath the window.”

Adrian's attention immediately shifted toward him. “How many?”

“Two different sets, Your Highness. The rain destroyed most of them, but one appears to belong to someone wearing heavy boots. The other is smaller.”

Two people.

I couldn't help wondering if the second person had anything to do with the dagger.

The guard reached into his coat and brought out a small piece of black fabric. “We also found this caught on the window frame.”

Adrian took it and examined the material carefully. Silver embroidery ran along one edge.

“That looks like royal clothing,” I said.

His eyes moved toward me. “How do you know?”

“I've seen the royal guards. Their uniforms have similar embroidery.”

He continued studying me for a moment before turning back to the guard.

“Anything else?”

“There was blood on the outside wall.”

My stomach tightened. “Blood?”

“Yes, my lady. It appeared to be fresh, but we couldn't determine whose it was.”

Adrian's expression hardened.

“Search the grounds again. I want every guard informed. No one leaves the estate without my permission.”

The guard bowed. “Yes, Your Highness.”

He left the room just as another servant hurried toward the doorway.

“Your Highness, Lord Vale is waiting for you in the study.”

Adrian nodded and slipped the dagger back inside his coat.

Before leaving, he turned toward me. “You will remain here.”

“I’m not a prisoner.”

“I didn't say you were.”

“Then why am I being kept in my room?”

“Because someone tried to kill me, and your name was found on the weapon.”

“That still doesn't prove I did it.”

“I know.”

I blinked.

Adrian's face remained unreadable as he added, “But until I know who is responsible, I can't trust anyone in this house.”

He left without another word.

I remained on the edge of the bed, trying to make sense of everything.

The story I remembered had been clear. Seraphina's problems weren't supposed to begin this early. Her enemies would spend months gaining her trust before slowly destroying her reputation.

Now someone had attacked Adrian before the original story had even started properly.

I needed to understand why.

After a few minutes, I got up and walked toward the balcony. I only wanted some fresh air, but something dark near the balcony door caught my attention.

A small black envelope lay on the floor.

I glanced toward the bedroom door before picking it up. There was no name on the outside, and for some reason, I had a bad feeling about opening it.

Still, I unfolded the paper inside.

Only one sentence had been written across it.

You were never supposed to wake up, Seraphina.

I read the message twice, feeling a chill move through me. Someone knew I had survived, but there was something beneath the words that frightened me even more.

A strange symbol had been drawn at the bottom of the page.

I recognized it immediately.

It belonged to a secret organization mentioned in the novel, one that wasn't supposed to appear until much later in the story.

My fingers tightened around the paper as I realized what that meant. The changes weren't limited to Adrian's early arrival or the mysterious attack. Someone had brought a part of the story into existence far earlier than it should have happened.

A faint sound came from behind me.

I turned toward the bedroom and saw the door slowly opening.

A man dressed entirely in black stood on the other side. His face was hidden beneath a hood, but his posture made it clear that he hadn't come to talk.

My heart began to pound as his hand disappeared beneath his coat.

He pulled out a silver dagger.

The moment I saw it, I recognized the weapon Adrian had shown me earlier. The same blade, the same engraved handle, and my name still shining beneath the light from the window.

The man stepped into the room and slowly raised the dagger.

“You shouldn't have woken up,” he said.

I knew that voice.

It was impossible, yet there was no mistaking it. I had heard that voice countless times while reading the novel, belonging to a character

whose death had been one of the most important events in the original story.

My blood ran cold as I stared at the stranger beneath the hood.

He was supposed to be dead.

.