In the courtyard of the manor, Seraphina sat gently swaying on a swing, her eyes unfocused as they stared ahead, lost in thought.
Even though a day had passed since that conversation, it felt as if it had just occurred.
She tossed and turned in the dead of night, unable to comprehend why Ansel would not allow her to ascend to the throne of the third stage, and why he said that she did not need to become so powerful.
After much contemplation, the only conclusion Seraphina could draw was that her increased strength would bring trouble to Ansel. But if her future self was so formidable, wouldn't any trouble… be easily resolved?
If she were stronger than the empress, what trouble could she not solve in this world?
The young girl sulkily swayed on the swing, the occasional gust of cold wind unable to make her feel any chill.