Maria had been watching from the moment the gate opened.

She stood just inside the archway that led into the estate proper, arms folded loosely, expression unreadable as she sipped from a glass of wine. The courtyard scene played out in full view.

"…I'm assuming we're done greeting each other," Maria said calmly.

All three of them stiffened in different ways.

Ryn turned first. "You noticed."

Maria arched a brow. "I notice everything."

Her gaze flicked to Amelia, lingering just long enough to acknowledge the faint color still clinging to her cheeks, then slid to Jay.

"How's the trip been, Jay?" Maria asked.

Jay sighed. "It was… too eventful."

Maria nodded once, a faint grin appearing at the corner of her mouth.

"I'd assume so," she said. "Ryn has that effect."

"You don't say…" both Jay and Amelia said in unison.

She turned on her heel and gestured toward the interior of the estate. "Inside. Unless you want the whole city to listen in?"

Amelia walked in like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Ryn and Jay took a hesitant glance at each other before doing the same.

The doors shut behind them with a muted thud, sealing off the courtyard and its lingering warmth. The sound of Aster dulled at once, reduced to a distant pressure rather than a presence.

Ryn felt it immediately.

Protective runes and wards were present on the door frame. Ryn had to hand it to her, Maria was one careful woman.

They entered a room within the main hall. A wide table dominated the space, its surface already layered with maps, folded reports, and pins marking positions throughout the capital.

As soon as they all took a seat, it was like a switch had been flipped within Maria.

She set her glass aside and looked at Ryn with dead certainty.

"Now," she said, eyes lifting to Ryn, "start from the beginning."

Ryn exhaled slowly.

"We went to the Isles of the Lost. Would you care to explain what they are, Jay?"

Jay straightened slightly, grateful for the handoff.

"They're a cluster of floating islands," he began. "Old ones. Each one's a different biome and has its own ecosystem.

"The kind of place adventurers dream about and sane people avoid," he added.

Maria sat up, eyes focused.

"They're dangerous," Jay continued. "Monsters, traps, environmental hazards. But also… resources. Materials you can't find anywhere else. Relics embedded in the ruins. Things that shouldn't still exist."

Amelia didn't speak.

She sat with her arms folded, listening—eyes on Ryn, not Jay, narrowing as he continued explaining.

Jay went on. "The islands were—"

He hesitated, then glanced at Ryn.

"The islands were…" He glanced at Ryn. "…like they were left behind."

"A legacy," he finished carefully.

Ryn gave a single nod.

Jay took that as permission.

"There were trials," he said. "Meant to weed out the unworthy."

He let out a breath, half disbelief, half pride.

"By the end, we were stronger than before we arrived."

"Stronger?" Maria asked.

It wasn't skepticism, more like a measuring eye.

Jay opened his mouth, then stopped. He glanced at Ryn again, habit more than hesitation.

Ryn inclined his head. "Go on."

Jay exhaled. "I was a low trainee when we entered."

Maria's fingers stilled.

"And now?" she prompted.

Jay grimaced. "Mid-Trainee."

That earned a look from both women.

Maria didn't hide her interest. Amelia's expression remained composed, but her attention sharpened.

"And you?" Maria asked, already knowing who she meant.

Ryn answered without emphasis. "High-Trainee."

The room went still.

Amelia turned to him fully. "Already?"

Ryn nodded once.

Her gaze lingered, not offended nor disbelieving.

"I reached High-Trainee after three years of training," she said quietly. "With tutors. Artifacts. Resources from the Duchy."

"I know," Ryn said.

She held his gaze for another moment, then looked away—half jealousy, half reluctant acknowledgment.

Ryn let the silence sit for a moment longer than necessary.

Then he straightened slightly.

"Enough about us," he said calmly. "What happened while we were gone?"

Maria's expression shifted immediately.

Amelia answered first.

"I've been busy," she said. Not defensively. Just stating a fact.

"Constant meetings. Every day since I arrived."

Ryn watched her closely. There was no frustration in her voice. That alone told him something was wrong.

"With whom?" he asked.

"Nobles," Amelia replied. "House representatives. Basically, all of the auxiliary matters."

Maria nodded once. "Very auxiliary."

Amelia continued, "I was only brought in to finalize appearances. Where I'd sit. Who I'd speak to publicly. What my presence would 'signal.'"

Ryn's eyes narrowed. "And the Churches?"

Amelia hesitated.

"I've met with one representative," she said. "Once. I talked to him for five minutes, Ryn."

That statement settled unpleasantly in his chest.

Maria picked up the thread without missing a beat.

"I couldn't reach my brother," she said. "Not once."

Ryn looked up sharply. "How's that possible? Shouldn't the Rhean Pope at least spend some time with his sister?"

Maria didn't bristle.

She didn't even look offended.

"That's what makes it strange," she replied calmly. "I didn't get a refusal. I couldn't even reach him."

Ryn leaned back slightly, eyes narrowing as the shape of it formed in his mind.

Then he looked up.

"What about the Hero's Ceremony?" he asked. "What's the status?"

Not because she didn't know, but because the answer didn't line up the way it should.

"When I arrived," she said slowly, "they were preparing for it. Properly. Schedules, seating, procession routes, security coordination." She frowned.

"All the usual groundwork."

"And now?" Ryn prompted.

Amelia's lips pressed together. "Now it's… stalled."

Ryn's fingers tightened slightly against the table.

"Stalled how?"

"The preparations haven't been canceled," she said. "But they've stopped advancing. All they've confirmed is that some kind of event is still happening."

Maria nodded, picking up the thread.

"That matches what I'm seeing," she said. "The infrastructure is there. The intent is there. But no one is committing to the next step."

Ryn's gaze sharpened. "Instead?"

"Instead," Maria said, sliding another document across the table, "the city keeps filling up."

Ryn scanned the page. Names from major houses. Independent factions. Individuals with no official reason to be in Aster—at least, not for a ceremony.

"They're not here to watch," Maria continued. "At least not the kind we're used to. Many of them arrived early."

Ryn clicked his tongue softly. "Tsk. Opportunists."

But even as he said it, the word felt wrong.

Because opportunists came after announcements, after a purpose that's been decided.

They were missing crucial information.

And yet, they came anyway.

That was what unsettled him.

In his first life, this part of the timeline had been rigid. Predictable. The Hero's Ceremony had been a fixed point, something the world bent around.

Now, that certainty was gone.

Something's wrong. The future's…changing.

Ryn's thoughts slowed.

He'd seen this pattern before. Such a big event altered on such short notice…only one group could do such a thing.

The Cult's fingerprints were plastered all over.

Ryn's jaw tightened.

If they'd interfered openly, he would've noticed. If they'd moved too early, he would've stopped them.

Which meant—

If they were involved, then this was the version where they'd learned.

Where they didn't try to control the outcome.

They just changed the conditions.

For the first time since his regression, Ryn felt something cold settle beneath his certainty.

They might have succeeded this time.

And he didn't know where the trap was yet. But this time…he had the power to find out.

That made all the difference.

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