FLASHBACK CONTINUES
He brought her sweets the next day.
Wrapped clumsily in a silk napkin, likely stolen from the estate's dining hall, the treats were delicate rice cakes dusted in sugar and flower petals. A noblewoman's snack. Not meant for scullery maids with ash on their cheeks and scars on their palms.
Eve stared at the offering like it might explode.
"Why... are you giving me this?" she asked softly, wariness etched into her every word.
He was the heir to the Toyotomi family. What did he see in her?
"Because you deserve it," Izanagi said with a crooked grin, kneeling in front of her like some peasant boy with a stolen crown. "And also because someone of your beauty deserves it," he added softly.
That should have been her first red flag, but back then, she didn't see it. She was new to this whole thing.
And very curious.
"That's not why I—!"
He offered her a piece before she could backpedal further.
Her fingers hesitated... then accepted.
She chewed quietly, eyes locked on the ground.
"...It's sweet," she muttered.
"You're welcome," he said, grinning like an idiot.
She sighed, but this time—it was soft. Less exasperated. More... flustered.
"I prefer lilies. They feel nicer," she muttered under her breath, which he seemed to catch.
The wall between them was thinning. She no longer shrank away quite as fast when he approached. Her voice, while still reserved, no longer sounded like it was begging the gods for him to leave her alone.
He noticed it. Felt it.
He was winning her over.
And for a moment, that simple progress made the world seem a little brighter.
Yet, Eve noticed something. While she did tell him her likes and dislikes—you know, communication and all—she didn't want to be the bitchy girlfriend who gave cold shoulders and never explained why they were mad.
She spoke quite boldly about her preferences, and yet, even after saying it time and time again—that she liked lilies, that her favorite color was lavender—the prince never seemed to get it.
He always brought the most expensive things instead, saying someone of her visage deserved only the best. She should have realized it by then. But once more, she was innocent and stupid and just thought... he was already bringing her gifts. She shouldn't be ungrateful.
But she was hopeful... she was dumb.
Unfortunately, they weren't alone.
High above them, tucked into the shadows of an overhanging balcony, a pair of sharp eyes watched.
A young woman in layered silks and gold-threaded robes. Her skin was pale, her hair pinned with ornaments worth more than most servants earned in five lifetimes. And her mouth—twisted into a sneer.
She had seen it.
Everything.
The bastard-born nobody being hand-fed by her prince.
The same prince who hadn't spared her more than three words in a week. Something about her looking bland and pale.
Something about her not being pretty enough.
Princess Izanami narrowed her eyes, the muscles in her jaw tightening.
That peasant girl. That maid. That half-blood parasite who should've been thrown out with the bathwater the day her mother died.
And yet... he was looking at her with that expression.
That warmth. That softness.
The same expression she'd spent years trying to earn.
Eve didn't even look like she was trying.
She didn't bat her lashes. Didn't smile demurely. She barely even spoke.
What sorcery was this?
How could someone so dirty... so low... steal the attention of the heir to one of the most powerful noble houses?
The princess clenched her fists, nails digging into her palm.
Unacceptable.
Disgraceful.
Eve was not part of the story. She was not written into the bloodlines of power and prestige. She was background noise. A face among hundreds. She didn't belong.
But clearly... she would not vanish on her own.
Which meant someone had to remove her.
Later, in the confines of her private quarters, the princess sat beside a candle-lit desk, fingers delicately flipping through family registries and estate logs.
She needed a plan.
No. A weapon.
A pawn.
Someone disposable, but dangerous enough to ruin a girl like Eve.
She paused at one name in the scroll.
A noble. Young. Handsome. Ambitious. Recently returned from war.
And more importantly...
Rumored to have a taste for girls who couldn't say no.
A slow, elegant smile touched her lips.
"Lord Narisawa..." she murmured.
Yes.
He'd do quite nicely.
As the flame flickered beside her, Princess Izanami leaned back in her chair and whispered to the darkness:
"Let's see how special that little bastard girl really is."
She wanted her gone. She would even arrange for the guards to utterly ruin the bitch.
And thus, for two years, she plotted.
Slowly, she spread rumors about the girl. Whispers of her being a slut, a whore. Slowly tainting her image and holding conversations with other nobles about Eve—all while making sure some of the maids, known for their inability to keep secrets, were nearby to "overhear" her words.
She spoke in such a tone that it made it sound like a secret.
Let those filthy peasants spread the rumors for her.