The Star Arrives

The music began softly.

A single flute note lingered in the air, like a breath held too long.

Isabella stood at the center of the palace set, her long sleeves brushing the floor like drifting mist. For a fleeting moment, she was utterly still—like a painting preserved from another era.

Then she moved.

Her first step was slow and deliberate. The delicate bells around her ankle chimed faintly as her body turned with precise, fluid grace. Her wide sleeves trailed behind her like clouds, catching the golden light as she glided across the stage.

At first, the crew simply watched.

Then, one by one, conversations faded.

The cameramen forgot to adjust their lenses. Assistants near the monitors leaned forward unconsciously, drawn in without realizing it.

Isabella’s movements were fluid, almost intoxicating—like water flowing beneath moonlight.

She wasn’t just dancing.

She was becoming.

Her eyes held a distant sorrow, as though she were a lonely beauty imprisoned within palace walls. Her steps gradually slowed, growing heavier, as if invisible chains were pulling her down.

Then the music shifted.

Her voice rose, soft at first.

But as she continued, emotion began to seep into every word.

**“The storm howls across the sleeping village,

wind clawing at fragile wooden doors.

Yet inside, a single lamp glows warmly,

a quiet home untouched by the rage outside.

The kettle hums gently upon the stove,

and laughter lingers like a fading song.

Who would step into the storm,

when the hearth burns bright and kind?

Who would leave the comfort of home,

to wander beneath a sky filled with thunder?

But beyond the hills,

the banners of our country tremble in the wind.

The land that raised us,

the soil beneath our childhood steps,

the rivers that carried our dreams—

They call to us.

Even when the storm roars,

even when fear grips the heart,

someone must step beyond the warm doorway.

Someone must walk into the rain.

For if no one answers the storm…

then the quiet homes we cherish

will one day fall silent.”**

By the time Consort Devan finished, her voice trembled.

Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears.

For someone like her—raised in unwavering loyalty to her country—the words struck deep. And yet…

She was walking a path that would one day destroy that very country.

The contradiction twisted painfully in her chest.

A tear slipped down her cheek before she even realized it.

At the same time, Isabella’s dance reached its climax.

As the final lines echoed through the hall, she spun slowly, her sleeves lifting like wings beneath the dim golden light. Every movement carried quiet sorrow.

A woman who loved her country.

A woman whose country betray her and her family.

A woman whose loyalty would one day turn into rebellion.

The music ended.

Silence fell over the entire set.

No one spoke.

No one moved.

Even the director forgot to call, “Cut.”

For several long seconds, the only sound was the faint, lingering echo of Isabella’s ankle bells.

Then—

“Perfect!” the director shouted hoarsely.

The entire crew snapped back to reality.

A cameraman let out a low whistle.

“…That was incredible,” someone muttered behind the monitor.

Even Vivienne—usually so arrogant—stood frozen, her expression stiff.

Because in that moment, she understood something with painful clarity.

This rookie… was not just a pretty face.

The actor playing the emperor, a veteran known for such roles, shook his head with a smile.

“Director Phil, I was genuinely stunned just now. That wasn’t acting.”

“I told you—her skills are far from ordinary,” Vanessa said with a soft smile from the sidelines.

But behind that smile, her teeth were nearly grinding to dust.

Once filming wrapped for the day, Vanessa dragged her assistant aside, her voice low and sharp.

“What happened? It’s been an entire afternoon—why hasn’t she reacted?”

The assistant looked panicked. “I added it myself. I mixed it into everything—the blush, the eyeshadow, even the highlighter… Maybe it’s a delayed reaction?”

Vanessa’s expression darkened. “Impossible. The moment she comes into contact with it, her skin should flare up within half an hour. That’s exactly how I humiliated her at the birthday banquet before.”

“…Then maybe she didn’t use the products,” the assistant said weakly.

“You’re useless!” Vanessa snapped. “Why didn’t you tamper with her costume too, just in case?”

“I—I didn’t think of it. Miss Vanessa, please don’t be angry. I won’t make the same mistake again!”

Vanessa suppressed her fury.

It was only a small setback.

There would be plenty of opportunities ahead.

Besides… the hatred in Vivienne’s eyes earlier had not gone unnoticed.

Heh, Isabella… do you really think you can keep this role so easily?

Although Isabella had proven her acting ability, her reputation hadn’t improved.

If anything, it had worsened.

Because her performance had been too convincing.

People no longer saw it as acting—they saw it as a glimpse of her “true nature.” A dangerous, enchanting woman who could captivate anyone.

Worried about her emotional state, the director hurried over before she left.

“Bella, don’t worry too much. Your male lead will be joining next month. The best scenes are yet to come.”

She smiled faintly. “Director, who is my male lead? You’ve kept it a secret this whole time. Not even a hint?”

“I can’t risk it leaking,” he said mysteriously. “All I’ll tell you is—the second male lead is a huge star.”

Vivienne, passing by, scoffed.

“For a second male lead? How big could he be? Don’t tell me he’s as famous as Theo.”

Vanessa simply smiled, clearly sharing the same skepticism.

Isabella ignored them and stepped closer to the director, curiosity sparkling in her eyes.

“Fine, at least tell me this—is he handsome? The script says every noble lady in the city is obsessed with him.”

After all, she had plenty of intimate scenes with him—flirting, teasing, even close physical interactions.

It mattered.

“Handsome?” the director chuckled. “You’ll be more than satisfied. Just don’t faint when you see him.”

“Really? Director Phil, don’t lie to me—I’ll take your word for it!”

Days passed quickly.

In the blink of an eye, it was already August.

Vanessa and Vivienne had formed an alliance, constantly scheming behind the scenes. Though Isabella saw through most of their tricks, the constant vigilance was exhausting.

She was already waiting for the perfect moment…

To end it all in one move.

Strangely, it sometimes felt like someone was helping her from the shadows—subtle hints, quiet warnings whenever she missed something.

But she didn’t dwell on it.

Her bigger problem was far more immediate.

She had to pick up a very irritating person from the airport that night.

The man had called her more than a dozen times while she was on set.

Two hours later, at the airport—

Even though she had prepared herself mentally, Isabella was still stunned by the scene before her.

“AHHH! JASON CARDWELL! MY LOVE IS BACK!!!”

“Hubby, look here! I love you! I want your babies!”

“Jace! Jace! We’ll always support you!”

Isabella: “…”

Teenage girls filled the crowd, but there were also middle-aged women—and even a number of male fans—all screaming at the top of their lungs.

Security struggled to control the chaos.

Then suddenly—

A deep, magnetic voice rang out from within the crowd.

“My dear wives, can you keep it down a little? Don’t disturb others… shhh.”

The crowd went silent for half a second—

Then exploded into even louder screams.

Isabella hid behind a pillar, staring from afar, completely speechless.

This guy… is definitely trying to get her killed.

If she stepped out now, she might not survive the night.

Luckily…

She came prepared.