The weekend arrived with perfect sunshine.

Egret Manor's wrought-iron gates shimmered with elegant, cold brilliance in the sunlight. Isabella arrived with her grand procession of sycophants, finally reaching the entrance to my estate. Among them stood Sebastian, his face betraying an unnatural excitement—like a court jester anticipating his reward.


Reynard and I observed from beneath a massive plane tree some distance away—detached spectators awaiting the final act of this elaborate charade.

Isabella halted before the ornate gates, drawing a deep breath, her face alight with poorly concealed pride. She basked in the envious stares surrounding her, already playing the role of the manor's rightful mistress.

The crowd held its collective breath, waiting for her to produce the key that would validate her claims.


Instead, she made a gesture that puzzled everyone present.

She reached out and pressed the doorbell beside the gate.


The bell's crisp chime echoed through the still air, jarringly out of place.

I nearly laughed aloud. My private residence—my sixteenth birthday gift—for which I alone possessed the key. No owner would ring their own doorbell like a common visitor.

A fatal mistake.

Footsteps approached from within. Moments later, the side entrance swung open, and a middle-aged woman in a maid's uniform hurried out. Her face flushed with nervous excitement as she offered Isabella an almost sycophantic smile.

"Miss, you've returned."

I recognized her immediately.

Father's recent confidential letter had detailed various matters concerning the estate, including mention of the head maid tasked with overseeing the property—Martha.

So that was it.

The pieces fell into place. An audacious maid and her vainglorious daughter, orchestrating this poorly executed royal masquerade together.

My heart no longer wavered—only cold determination remained. Martha would not merely lose her position; she would pay dearly for her betrayal and stupidity.

Isabella, flanked by her mother's accomplices, prepared to usher everyone through the grand entrance. Her vanity had reached its zenith.

Just then, the sound of synchronized footsteps echoed from the end of the lane—heavy, measured steps carrying unmistakable authority.

All heads turned toward the sound.

A squad of royal guards approached in perfect formation, their uniforms gleaming in the sunlight. Behind them marched several kingdom officials wearing expressions of grave purpose.

The lead official unfurled an official document, his voice ringing clear as a bell.

"Everyone, remain where you stand!"

The guards fanned out with military precision, encircling the entire gathering. Panic rippled through the students as confused murmurs rose from the crowd.

Isabella's face drained of color, though she struggled to maintain her composure.

"Who are you people? Do you know where you are?"

The official ignored her completely, raising the document higher and speaking in a voice cold as steel.

"By order of the Crown! Following investigation, one Isabella stands accused of impersonating a member of the royal family, falsifying official documents, and attempting unauthorized entry into a royal residence!"

The words "impersonating a member of the royal family" crashed like thunder through the stunned crowd.

The official's stern gaze shifted to Martha.

"Martha, royal servant, for dereliction of duty and conspiracy to commit fraud with your daughter, you are hereby placed under immediate arrest!"

Martha's legs buckled beneath her as she crumpled to the ground. Isabella trembled violently, her lips moving soundlessly, unable to form words.

The official's penetrating gaze swept across Sebastian's ashen face and the horrified Art Society students.

"All remaining individuals named on the falsified document will be investigated as potential accomplices!"

Sebastian staggered backward. He stared at Isabella in disbelief before his desperate gaze found me. His eyes brimmed with terror and crushing regret.