Present, Lord's Castle, Kim City, Kim Island, Kim Dukedom, Ancorna Empire

Ravenna lounged behind her desk like a coiled cat, fingers drumming the polished wood. The carriage wheels beyond the window were a distant percussion; inside, the air smelled of ink, jasmine, and a faint trace of gunpowder from the experiments she preferred not to advertise. Eugene crossed the threshold with the same calm that had always unnerved her and sank into the sofa opposite without waiting for an invitation.

"So you finally decided to cash in on our deal?" Ravenna asked, voice threaded with sarcasm and something sharper, curiosity she did not mean to betray.

Eugene gave a small, disarming smile. He waved at a passing maid; no tea was necessary. "I believed you would have set the audience with the saintess on the last day of the festival" he said, composed. "You will announce the Saintess then, won't you?"

Ravenna's smile sharpened into a blade. "If you already knew as much, then why are you here wasting my time? I have a hundred fires to put out." Still, beneath her haughty tone, there was an edge of genuine admiration, her internal fangirling over the protagonist of this world.

He folded his hands neatly and leaned forward. "I planned to come only on the last day. But seeing what you've done to this dukedom… I thought it prudent to speak now. We may have started on the wrong foot. There is no need for Prince William's faction and yours to tear each other apart."

Ravenna barked a laugh that was half incredulous, half amused. "There is no need? Do you hear yourself, Ser Eugene? Do you know what path you propose we walk? He has the court's momentum precisely because of schemes of the sort you have been known to design."

She set down her cup and fixed him with a stare. "If I made a list of succession candidates I most wish to see ruined, William would top it."

Eugene's face did not flinch; it softened. For a heartbeat Ravenna glimpsed something like regret behind his composed mask. "I understand your anger," he said quietly. "That is why I'm here, to be blunt and to atone in the only way I can."

Ravenna's eyes narrowed. "Atonement?"

Eugene exhaled, a long, controlled breath. "It was my hand that had Kenric plant the ledger in the Empress Wing's archives, Your Highness. Prince William resisted at first, he did not want to bear the weight of such a method but I pushed. I engineered the ledger and the opportunity. I pulled the strings."

Ravenna did not flinch. She had known this truth long before Eugene dared to speak it aloud. She had read it in the pages of Light's Conquest in her former life as Joy Cha Kim. Back then, curled up with a glowing screen, she had cheered the cunning brilliance of the protagonist's scheme. She had thought it was ruthless, clever, deliciously cruel: exactly what a great story demanded.

But now she was not just Joy. She was Ravenna Solarius. And Ravenna bore the scars of that scheme.

The words hit her like molten iron, stoking a fire in her chest until it threatened to consume her. She remembered the jeers, the whispers of courtiers smirking behind gloved hands: the princess who killed her own mother. She remembered the cold pronouncement of exile, the chains of disgrace, the laughter of nobles who spat on her name.

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And worst of all, she remembered Dahlia. The mother she loved, the only gentle anchor in the palace's ruthless storm. To be accused of killing her, to wear that mark like a brand, to be mocked for a grief that nearly broke her… it was more than an insult. It was desecration.

If she had still been Joy, she would have thought: what a fitting downfall for a villainess. But she was not just Joy anymore. She was the villainess. And her rage was no longer fiction.

A sharp, humorless chuckle escaped her lips. Then another, rolling into a low laugh: not of amusement, but of a predator baring its fangs. Her eyes narrowed, black fire gleaming in their depths.

"Oh… is that so?" she purred, every word dripping venom.

The cup in her hand slammed down onto the teapoy with a sharp crack. Porcelain rattled, and tea sloshed over the rim, staining the wood like blood. "Tell me, Ser Eugene," she whispered, her voice cold enough to freeze marrow. "Why do you suppose I needed to hear that? Do you think confession wipes the slate clean? That I will forgive simply because you admit it?"

Eugene bowed his head slightly, but his voice held steady. "That is not what I expect. I fully believe you want to punish me. And I deserve it." He stood, shoulders squared as though preparing for execution. "I am ready to testify, to proclaim before heaven and empire alike what I did and why. I will accept any punishment you see fit. But I ask this of you, Ravenna Solarius: do not waste your strength on me when a greater enemy approaches. One that will not stop until all the world is ash."

Ravenna scoffed, a harsh, cutting sound. Her gaze burned into him, her fury unmasked, unrestrained. "What makes you think I need you or your pathetic prince? What makes you think I cannot face this so-called adversary myself? Do you truly mistake me for someone who clings to fools in order to stand?"

"Your Highness, you don't understand—" Eugene began, but Ravenna's voice sliced across his like a blade.

"Oh, I understand perfectly." She leaned forward, her hands pressing into the desk, her figure a shadow against the sunlight. "The Witch of the West. The Cult of Absolution."

Eugene froze. His eyes widened, shock cracking his composure. "How—how do you—?"

"Do I look like an idiot to you, Ser Eugene?" Ravenna snapped. She reached into a drawer, pulled out a sealed letter, and dropped it onto the table with a sharp flick of her wrist. "This came from my fishermen on the northern shore. They found an abomination crawling among the beasts of the underwater dungeon. A sign of corruption. A herald of the Witch's return."

She circled the desk like a hunting lioness, her voice gaining in force with every step. "Aurora Flask is not here on holiday. She seeks asylum from them. I already know about the mind-control spell, the same you discovered when you executed High Priest Caldus."

Eugene's mouth parted in disbelief, but Ravenna pressed on, her words a storm.

"I know more than you think, Eugene. I know how deep the cult's rot has spread. I know the stakes. But unlike you, unlike your faction of pathetic schemers, I do not butcher mothers and blame daughters to rally allies. I do not twist grief into tools. I fight with the same steel that forged me since birth. I fight with my own power."

Her glare was absolute, her voice low and dangerous. "Do not confuse my cruelty with weakness. Do not mistake my exile for defeat."

She stopped in front of him, close enough that he could see the fury dancing in her eyes like black fire.

"I will honor the deal we struck. Nothing more."

Straightening to her full height, Ravenna raised a hand and pointed to the door like a queen passing sentence. "Now get out. Before I forget myself and cut that smug face into pieces."

The silence that followed was suffocating. Eugene bowed once, stiff and wordless, before turning on his heel. The door shut behind him with a heavy thud, leaving Ravenna alone in the office, her chest rising and falling with the force of her fury.

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