75 - Miss
The banquet ended in a blur.
Mariana could barely recall how she managed to stand, to smile, to walk beside her family as they exchanged farewells with nobles whose names she normally would have memorized with ease. Everything felt distant—muted—like she was moving through a dream that wasn’t entirely hers.
Zafiel. The way he had known. Not guessed. Not assumed. Known. It unsettled her in a way she couldn’t properly articulate.
Before they departed, she found herself standing beside Kael and High Priest Bane, her lips moving automatically as if guided by muscle memory rather than thought.
“Magic, at its core, is about control,” she heard herself say to Kael, her tone even. “But also understanding. You cannot wield what you do not comprehend.”
Kael responded enthusiastically, as he always did, launching into a theory about mana circulation and elemental affinity. Mariana nodded at the right moments. Replied when expected.
But she wasn’t really there.
Then Bane spoke, his voice calm and measured. “Faith, Lady Mariana, is not a substitute for strength. It is… a reinforcement. A guide.”
She turned to him, offering a polite smile. “A stabilizer,” she added softly. “Something that prevents collapse when logic alone fails.”
He seemed pleased with her response.
But again, she wasn’t really there. Because her thoughts kept drifting back. To him. To that moment. To the quiet certainty in Zafiel’s eyes that suggested he understood her in ways no one should.
By the time she entered the carriage with her family, she felt exhausted. Not physically. Mentally. Emotionally. As if something inside her had been shaken loose.
—
That night, the villa was quiet. Too quiet.
Mariana stood before the mirror in her chambers, fingers slowly unfastening the delicate clasps of her gown. The fabric pooled at her feet, replaced moments later by the soft, familiar comfort of her nightgown.
She climbed into bed. Turned to one side. Then the other. Then back again. Sleep wouldn’t come. Her mind refused to still.
Zafiel. His gaze. His voice. The way he spoke as if… as if he had been waiting for her.
“That’s ridiculous...” She murmured to herself, pulling the covers closer.
And yet, her chest tightened. Because something about it didn’t feel ridiculous. It felt real. And that was exactly what made it terrifying.
She shut her eyes. Tried to force her thoughts elsewhere. And slowly, they drifted. Not to the present. But to the past.
Before she was Mariana, she was Iana. Just Iana. A scholarship student struggling to survive college. Her lips curved faintly, bittersweet. She hadn’t even liked her course. Not really.
It had been practical. Stable. Something that promised a future where she and her family wouldn’t have to worry about money anymore.
So she endured day after day. Late nights. Skipped meals. Endless assignments. She coped the only way she knew how. Anime. Manhwa. Those small, fleeting escapes where she could forget the weight of reality, even if just for a few hours.
A soft laugh escaped her lips. “Otaku life…” She whispered. It had been simple. Hard but simple.
And strangely enough, she missed it. Mariana turned onto her back, staring at the ceiling. This life—her current life—was everything she once thought she wanted. Wealth. Comfort. Status.
She never had to worry about tuition. Or bills. Or whether there would be enough food on the table. And yet…
“It’s too much..." She admitted quietly. The sheer magnitude of her family’s wealth still overwhelmed her.
Back then, she used to save coins. Literal coins. She would keep them in a small container, counting them carefully, planning how to stretch even the smallest amount. She reused things. Fixed what she could. Made do with what she had. Now?
Everything was abundant. Effortless. Given.
Her chest ached.
“Mom…” Her voice broke.
Her mother. Left behind. A woman who carried the weight of raising four children alone after their father’s death. Strong. Tired. Loving.
Mariana’s eyes stung.
“I hope you’re okay…” She whispered, her voice trembling.
She hoped her siblings were doing well too. That they were eating properly. That they weren’t struggling too much. That somehow, things had gotten better.
Tears slipped silently down her temples, soaking into the pillow beneath her.
And then, her friends.
Cassandra. Dark humor, sharp tongue, but always the first to defend them when it mattered. Diane. Weird. Unpredictable. Endlessly entertaining. Rigel. Quiet. Introverted. A fellow otaku who understood her without needing too many words.
Mariana let out a shaky breath. “… I miss you guys…”
She missed their laughter. Their gossip sessions. Studying together before exams. Complaining about life. Dreaming about impossible futures.
Her fingers curled slightly into the sheets. For a moment, just a moment, she wanted to go back. Not to struggle. Not to suffer. But to that simplicity.
To a life where her biggest worry was passing an exam. Not navigating the dangerous attention of a crown prince who seemed to know her far too well.
Her breathing slowly steadied. Her tears subsided. And eventually, exhaustion claimed her. She fell asleep. Still yearning.
—
“Grand Princess Mariana.” A soft voice stirred her from sleep.
Her eyes fluttered open.
A maid stood nearby, posture respectful. “Good morning. It is time to prepare.”
Mariana blinked slowly, her mind sluggish.
Prepare…?
Then, her eyes widened slightly. Zafiel. The agreement. The tour of Luxor.
“Ri-Right…” She murmured, pushing herself up.
For a brief moment, she considered it. Pretending to be ill. Avoiding it entirely. Staying in the villa where it was safe. Where she could think. Where she could breathe.
But then, she remembered Zafiel’s personality. Ruthlessly persistent. Once he set his sights on something, he didn’t stop.
Avoiding him wouldn’t solve anything. It would only make things worse.
“… I really have no choice, huh…” She sighed softly.
The maid tilted her head slightly. “Your Highness?”
“Nothing,” Mariana said quickly, offering a small smile. “Help me get ready.”
—
Time passed quickly. Too quickly. Before she knew it, she was stepping out into the bustling streets of Luxor.
And beside her, Zafiel. Of course. The city was alive. Vendors called out from their stalls. The scent of spices and freshly cooked food filled the air.
People moved in every direction, laughter and conversation blending into a vibrant hum of life. Mariana should have been enjoying it. This was Luxor. A place she had only read about in the novel. A place filled with culture, beauty, and hidden storylines.
But instead, she was tense. Hyper-aware of the man walking beside her.
“You’re quiet.” Zafiel noted casually.
Mariana forced a small smile. “Just taking everything in.”
His gaze lingered on her for a moment. As if assessing. As if seeing through her. Then, “Stay close." He said. Not a suggestion. A statement.
Mariana resisted the urge to sigh. “Of course, Your Imperial Highness.”
They continued walking. And then, she saw her. A figure ahead. A woman. Long silvery white hair cascading down her back.
Mariana’s steps faltered. Her breath caught. Her heart skipped. Because her mind, her instincts, her memories, all screamed the same thing.
The Heroine..?
"No way…” She whispered under her breath.
The world around her seemed to blur. Everything narrowing down to that single figure.
If that was her, then...
This wasn’t just a casual encounter anymore. This was the beginning of the story. Of everything.
And somehow, Mariana had the sinking feeling that things were about to spiral far beyond her control.