The morning sunlight streaming through the window softly illuminated Mireille Salyreth's skin. One week had passed since that resolve. The Salyreth estate remained wrapped in silence as always, yet the air had shifted subtly. Every day, Mireille organized the memories of her past life, repeating in her mind the etiquette and knowledge that would be necessary in the royal palace. The queen consort Katarina's conspiracy. The complex schemes of five princes. And the commoner girl who was supposed to become the protagonist. (There's no time left.) A white carriage came to a halt before the Salyreth residence. It was an ornate carriage bearing the emblem of the King's personal guard. Her father furrowed his brow but placed a hand on Mireille's shoulder. "Do your best. You can do this." "Thank you, Father." Inside the carriage, silence and tension filled the air. Mireille felt something pulsing violently deep in her chest as she gazed out the window. The white castle walls grew larger bit by bit. Lève Blanche Castle. The royal palace. That white citadel drew ever closer. The carriage slowed. They had reached the castle gates. A guard halted the carriage and saluted. Mireille took a deep breath and descended. The sensation of stone pavement transmitted through her feet. As she was led through the castle corridors, the gazes of the guards lining the hallway pierced her. "Is that the daughter of House Salyreth?" Whispers reached her ears. The daughter of a fallen noble house. She could tell that's what they were saying. Yet Mireille remained unmoved. Before the audience chamber, a chamberlain greeted her. A middle-aged man with a stern expression. "Lady Mireille Salyreth. His Highness the Crown Prince awaits. Please mind your deportment." Heavy doors opened. The audience chamber. The ceiling soared high, and light streaming through stained glass painted colors across the floor. Before the throne stood Crown Prince Leon Filthina. His chestnut-brown hair fell in gentle waves to shoulder length, gleaming beautifully in the sunlight, and his bright amber eyes gazed upon Mireille. His height was 182 centimeters. His posture was dignified, spine perfectly straight. The silver ear cuff on his left ear symbolized the royal family's crest. (Ah...) For a moment, her breath nearly stopped. In the memories of her past life, she had known the Crown Prince's appearance as data. But the Leon standing before her far exceeded that memory. Dignity befitting royalty and gentle approachability coexisted within him. A powerful presence that drew everyone around him without fail. "Mireille Salyreth. You have come." Leon's voice was calm. His tone was formal, yet carried a certain warmth. Mireille displayed a perfect curtsy. She bent her waist gracefully, lowering her gaze to the floor. The refinement from her past life existed precisely for moments like this. "I am honored, Your Highness the Crown Prince. Though my abilities are modest, I shall endeavor to serve the royal family." "Hmm. Your deportment is quite proper." After those words, a brief silence flowed. Mireille raised her head. Leon's eyes wavered slightly. (Something has... changed.) The Crown Prince's words carried undertones of seriousness and responsibility. Yet at the same time, loneliness flickered in the depths of his gaze. It was an aspect not depicted in the original work. The weight of official duties. The heaviness of expectations. And something else—an unresolved emotion. "In fact, I would like the marriage candidates to occasionally participate in events held in the royal palace. There is also preparation for the Holy Light Festival. Should you have any questions..." "No, I have none. I shall leave it to you." "I see. Then, for today, that shall be all..." In that instant. The doors of the audience chamber burst open forcefully. Footsteps. Low, measured strides. The one who appeared was First Prince Valther Filthina. Silver hair cut short and neatly arranged. Eyes of icy blue holding a cold sharpness. His height was 185 centimeters, even taller than Leon. A thin white scar running along his left cheek only accentuated his coldness further. (Ah...) In that moment, something cold ran down Mireille's spine. This was not nervousness, but instinctive wariness. Valther's gaze, with merely a glance at Mireille, possessed a sharpness as though appraising her entire being. "Brother. If I may be so bold, I would like to observe the meeting with the marriage candidate." His voice was low, restrained. Yet beneath those words lay some other emotion. Valther looked toward Mireille. An icy gaze. Mireille became acutely aware of her heartbeat. She could not read what this man was thinking. Yet something was different. In the original work, Valther had shown little interest in Mireille. And yet— "Mireille Salyreth. I am Valther Filthina. Like my brother, I am of the royal family." As he spoke, he took a step closer to Mireille. The distance narrowed. An invasion of personal space. It was an action that demonstrated power dynamics. Mireille deliberately kept her body still and met his gaze. "I am aware. Your Highness the First Prince. I am honored to make your acquaintance." Her words were polite. Yet beneath them lay an unshakeable composure. Valther's eyebrows moved slightly. That reaction was, perhaps, unexpected. Most marriage candidates of commoner origin would have shown fear. But Mireille Salyreth was different. "I see. Then I would like to ask you several questions." "Very well." Valther's questions were cunning. Royal palace etiquette. Basic knowledge of the Holy Light. Refinement befitting nobility. Mireille responded perfectly to each question. The memories of her past life drove her brain swiftly. The knowledge learned within the game now proved useful here. In the process, Mireille noticed something. The frequency with which Valther's gaze left her was increasing. And it was directed toward Leon. He would look at his brother, then back at Mireille. This pattern repeated. (There's something... a complex emotion mixed in.) Was it jealousy? Or something else? The questions ended. Silence fell. Leon maintained a calm expression while exhaling slightly. That breath carried a hint of relief. Relief that Mireille had succeeded. Valther continued to gaze at Mireille with his cold expression. His eyes held interest and caution. And—something else mixed within them. "Very well. Lady of House Salyreth. I would like you to attend again when events are held in the royal palace." Leon said this formally. "Understood, Your Highness the Crown Prince. And Your Highness the First Prince. I am deeply grateful for the opportunity to meet you both today." Mireille bowed deeply once more. The audience had ended without incident. Led by the chamberlain, she left the audience chamber. She walked down stone corridors. She was heading toward the Moonlight Corridor. Faint light filtered through the glass ceiling. (I made it through...) She felt relief wash over her. Yet at the same time, a question was etched into her mind. Valther's gaze. That complex emotion. Something not explained in the original work existed in this reality. And Crown Prince Leon. The loneliness in the depths of his eyes. The weight of his position as crown prince. (How should I interact with them going forward...) As she passed through the Moonlight Corridor, a garden came into view. The Star-Gazing Garden. The scent of roses filled the air. In the largest of three fountains stood a statue of the first king. Mireille stopped there. There was still time before the carriage that would take her out of the castle. (What I learned today will change my actions tomorrow.) She told herself this. The progression within the game. The story of the original work. These were guidelines, but not absolutes. The real princes were far more complex, far deeper. And—Valther's gaze held meaning. Understanding what that meaning was would be the key to survival. Leaving the garden behind, Mireille Salyreth departed the royal palace. The setting sun painted the castle walls crimson. The next day, Mireille visited an antiquarian bookshop. In a corner of White Bell Street stood "Papyrus Eternel"—a shop dealing in rare books. The shop's proprietor, old Gaspard, was over seventy years old and a former court scribe. He was one of the few people who remembered the era of House Salyreth's decline. "You are a good child. I knew your father, and that man never committed any wrongdoing." The old man's words brought new resolve to Mireille. Several days had passed since the formal audience at the royal palace. Mireille Salyreth had come to realize something. The Holy Light Festival was approaching. There, the five princes would display their Holy Light. In the game, that was where the protagonist made her first appearance. (Within the next two weeks, she will appear.) Mireille's heart grew even more taut. The first meeting in the game. The moment Mireille first saw the protagonist, she had felt something off. It was something only she, possessing knowledge of her transmigration, could sense. (That moment will be when the real battle begins.) With renewed resolve, Mireille Salyreth disappeared into the streets of Fonteluce, the royal capital.