The room at the top of the Sun Tower was silent. Too silent.

  Usually, at this hour—just as the sun had touched the horizon—would hear the clinking of silver spoons against porcelain cups. Arlene would pull back the curtains with a decisive motion, letting the light in, and then place a tray of slightly bitter herbal tea on the bedside table. She would deliver the morning intelligence report in her calm, measured voice.

  But this morning, the curtains remained tightly closed. No aroma of tea. No sound of disciplined footsteps.

  Mira sat on the edge of the large bed. Her bare feet touched the cold marble floor. She stared at the velvet chair in the corner of the room, where Arlene usually sat watching Mira sleep. Empty.

  Arlene had left last night, sneaking out through a rat path known only to skilled thieves, heading to Fasheart State. There was no dramatic farewell hug. Just a brief nod in the dark hallway and a whisper: "Don't die before I come back."

  Now, Rhea Ashart was truly alone inside the monster's belly. No Kars. No Arlene. Just her and her lies.

  Mira stood up, walking towards the balcony door. She checked the Rune Lock she had installed herself last night. Still active. She walked to the front door. Locked.

  Suddenly, a knocking sound appeared.

  The knock was soft, rhythmic, and very polite. Two short knocks. Pause. One long knock.

  Mira froze. Her hand reflexively moved to split open the empty space to access the dimension pocket, where she kept the small obsidian dagger. The knock pattern wasn’t that of a palace servant. Palace servants knock three quick times. This was a different pattern.

  "Who is it?" Mira asked, her voice hoarse from just waking up, but full of alertness.

  "Room service, Miss," a voice from behind the door sounded young, high-pitched, and a little... nervous? "Head Waiter Sebastian asked me to deliver a fresh towel."

  Mira walked quietly toward the door. She peered through the keyhole. She couldn’t see anyone. The hallway outside looked empty.

  Mira frowned. Was she hallucinating? She slowly unlocked the door, then opened it just a crack—only as wide as the safety chain.

  Empty. The marble corridor floor was spotless. No cart. No waiter.

  "Here, Miss!"

  Mira was shocked. There, right in front of her, stood a girl who had suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

  The girl was about the same size as Mira, wearing a gray palace maid uniform that was slightly too big at the shoulders. Her hair was silver, braided back. Her face was pale, with a line extending from the left side of her mouth down to her jaw, and she was holding a pile of white towels so high that they covered half of her face.

  Mira was stunned. How was this possible? Mira had senses trained by a Stealix. She could hear an enemy's heartbeat through the walls. She could sense fluctuations of Intian from ten meters away. But this girl... Mira hadn't felt her presence at all until the girl spoke. Even when peeking through the keyhole earlier, Mira's eyes seemed to 'overlook' the girl's existence.

  "Sorry!" said the girl, smiling widely to reveal slightly crooked teeth. "I'm undetectable, so I often can't be seen through the keyhole."

  Mira didn't release the door chain. She stared into the girl's eyes. Strange green eyes—eyes that seemed to reflect no light.

  Mira took a breath, then spoke the sentence. The sentence left behind by Arlene.

  "The eastern sky is too bright today," Mira said flatly.

  The girl stopped smiling. Her careless expression vanished instantly, replaced by a cold, empty gaze. She answered without hesitation, her tone turning mature:

  "Only because the falling star forgot how to fade."

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  The code was confirmed.

  Mira briefly closed the door to undo the chain, then opened it wide. "Come in."

  The girl stepped inside, then kicked the door shut behind her with her heel. As soon as the door closed, she dropped the stack of towels onto the sofa carelessly. Her previously polite, hunched posture shifted to a relaxed one.

  "My name is Anna," she said, extending her hand. "And for heaven's sake, Miss, your room smells like paranoia."

  Mira ignored the hand. She was still processing what had just happened. "You... you were standing at the door just now. But I didn’t feel you."

  "My advantage," Anna shrugged, walking over to the window and roughly opening the curtains. Morning sunlight poured in. "People call it 'Void.' The human brain is lazy, Miss Rhea. It filters out information that is deemed unimportant. I... am that unimportant information."

  Anna turned around, grinning. "I can stand next to the Prince while he’s peeing, and he wouldn’t even notice I’m there unless I splash him."

  Mira stared at the girl. She looked utterly ordinary. Too ordinary. A face you would forget three seconds after seeing it.

  "Arlene said you’re dangerous," Mira said.

  "Arlene overpraises. I’m just a cleaner," Anna took an apple from the fruit bowl on the table, rubbed it on her clothes, and then bit into it hard. "Arlene cleans with strategy. I clean with... accidents. Do you know how many people die slipping on soap in the bathroom every year? The statistics are shocking."

  Mira shuddered slightly. This girl wasn’t a maid. She was a ghost.

  "What are your instructions?" Mira asked.

  "Be your shadow," Anna said, sitting on the back of the sofa, swinging her legs. "Arlene said you’re going into the lion’s den. My job is to make sure no snake bites you from behind while you’re busy staring into the lion’s eyes."

  Suddenly, Anna jumped down from the sofa. Her movements were quick and soundless. She threw her half-eaten apple into the trash, then stood upright beside the bed, bowing her head, twisting the edges of her apron. Her face returned to that of a nervous, foolish servant.

  "Why—" Mira was about to ask when she heard it. Heavy footsteps in the corridor. The clomp of military boots and... the hum of static electricity.

  Firm knock. Authoritative.

  "Rhea?" the baritone voice pierced through the thick wooden door. Arlen.

  Mira's heart raced. She turned to Anna. The girl was standing there, but somehow... she felt 'faded.'

  Mira walked to the door, took a breath to put on her "fragile girl" mask, and then opened the door.

  Prince Arlen stood there. He looked fresh, wearing casual royal attire—a loose white shirt and riding pants. His golden hair was slightly damp, as if he had just finished bathing.

  "Good morning, Wildflower," Arlen greeted, his smile bright, contrasting with the horror he had shown at the King's Cliff yesterday. "Did I wake you?"

  "No, Arlen... I mean, Your Highness," Mira bowed shyly, holding her night cloak tighter. "I just woke up."

  Arlen stepped in without permission. He scanned the room. His natural dominance filled every corner of the room.

  Arlen's eyes moved across the room. His gaze passed over the dressing table. Past the window. Past the sofa. And his gaze passed by Anna.

  Mira held her breath. Anna stood upright beside the bed, only two meters away from Arlen. She wasn't hiding. She wasn't using magic to disappear. She was just standing there. But Arlen's eyes slid right past her, as if Anna were a coat rack or a boring vase.

  Arlen walked toward the balcony, completely turning his back on Anna. "The air is nice today. The fog is gone."

  Mira stared at Arlen's back, then looked at Anna. Anna winked at Mira, then stuck her tongue out at the prince's back. Mira had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing hysterically out of fear. The kingdom's strongest witch, who could detect energy fluctuations from a kilometer away, had just ignored an assassin standing within arm's reach.

  "Yes, Your Highness," Mira replied, her voice trembling slightly (this time genuinely).

  Arlen turned around. "Get ready. Don't wear formal attire. Wear something comfortable for walking."

  "Where are we going?"

  "To the Royal Greenhouse," said Arlen. He walked over to Mira, then touched her chin, lifting her face. "I'm tired of talking politics with Elodie. I'm tired of seeing Iva scared. I need to talk to someone real."

  Mira stared into those blue eyes. There was a crack there. Beneath his arrogance, Arlen looked... tired. He was looking for a friend. He was looking for a connection. And Mira was the only candidate giving him that illusion.

  "I'll be ready in ten minutes," Mira whispered.

  "I'll wait in the hallway," Arlen released Mira's chin, then walked out. As he passed Anna again, his cloak even brushed against Anna's apron slightly. Arlen just flicked his cloak as if he had just brushed against a curtain, without looking back, and continued walking out.

  The door closed.

  Mira slumped, her knees weak. She sat on the floor. "That's fucking crazy."

  "I told you," Anna's voice returned to normal, cheerful and relaxed. "I'm boring. So boring that people don't even want to look at me."

  "But you're beautiful."

  "You're not the first person, but you're on the short list of people who say I'm beautiful."

  Anna walked closer, extending her hand to help Mira stand. "Now, Miss Rhea. The prince wants 'something real.' Ironic, isn’t it? He invites the biggest liar in the palace to seek reality."

  Mira accepted Anna’s hand. The little girl’s grip was strong and rough. "We will give him reality, Anna," Mira said, her eyes sharp. "We will give him such a beautiful fake reality that he would be willing to destroy his own kingdom to protect it."

  Mira walked to the wardrobe. She chose a simple pale yellow dress—the color of morning sun, the color of hope, the color of friendship.

  "Prepare your poison, Anna. Just in case," Mira commanded.

  "Always ready in my pocket, Miss. Always ready."

  Mira stared at the mirror. Arlene was gone. But she had a ghost. And this fake domestic game had just leveled up.