The sun had barely shifted when tension swept through the royal garden like a cold wind.
Gerah stood awkwardly near the banquet table, her heart still pounding from the way Prince Xavier had looked at her.
Like she mattered.
Like she wasn’t just background.
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She tried to calm herself. Stick to the script, she thought. Let Dahlia have her story.
But then…
“So… you’re finally showing your face again.”
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The voice was sugar-coated venom.
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Gerah turned slowly.
There she was—Mara.
The daughter of General Alvirez. Draped in red silk, her dark curls perfectly styled, and her signature half-smirk in place. Confidence radiated from her like perfume.
Beside her was Hannah, whispering something into her ear while eyeing Gerah from head to toe.
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Gerah remembered writing this version of Mara: bold, elegant, proud… and dangerously obsessed with Prince Xavier.
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“Mara,” Gerah said softly.
“No titles today?” Mara raised a brow. “Did being sick make you forget royal manners? Or did you just realize no one notices you anyway?”
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Hannah chuckled under her breath.
Gerah stood still. In her world, she was used to being talked down to. But this wasn’t high school. This was her novel.
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She swallowed back her pride. “I wasn’t aware I needed your permission to walk in my own palace.”
Mara blinked, then smirked.
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“Oh, how charming. The invisible princess thinks she has a tongue now.”
Before Gerah could respond, Prince Xavier rose from his seat a few steps away and glanced in their direction.
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His cold gaze briefly landed on Mara… then moved to Gerah again. This time, it lingered.
Mara’s smile faltered.
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Gerah noticed it. That brief flicker of insecurity. The way Mara’s jaw clenched just slightly.
That’s not supposed to happen, Gerah thought.
Xavier was never supposed to look at me like that. Especially not in front of Mara.
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Something was changing—and it wasn’t in the pages she had written.
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