[A few hours later]
(Tuk's POV)
Tuk stood before the Arcanographica, her pulse quickening as her eyes traced the ancient symbols.
I never really tried to take this scroll out before, she thought, her fingers twitching at her sides. But now that I know it contains real power… I should at least test if I can still do it again.
She cast a quick glance around the dimly lit chamber—empty. Good.
Cautiously, she reached out, her fingertips grazing the shimmering surface of the case. The shell felt cool, smooth, deceptively fragile—like mist trapped in glass. But when she pressed against it, the material shifted. Not cracking, not even resisting, but moving—a slow ripple spreading outward, like a stone dropped into still water.
Her breath caught.
Encouraged, she pushed harder, digging her nails into the edge, trying to find a weakness. The moment she exerted real pressure, the surface hardened beneath her touch, becoming unyielding as steel.
Her frustration flared. Tuk shoved with both hands, using all her weight, her heart pounding. Again, the shell reacted—flowing under her fingers like quicksilver—only to lock into place the instant she thought she’d made progress.
"Come on," she hissed, pressing her forehead against the cool surface. A bead of sweat rolled down her temple.
She exhaled shakily and took a step back, shaking out her hands.
Her mind scrambled for possibilities. How does it work? If this was some kind of reinforced casing, maybe there was a trick to it—some hidden mechanism, a sequence, a keyword.
Michaelli had to be able to open it. But how? A command? A blood-bound lock?
She stared at the case, then exhaled through her nose. Well, it was worth a try.
Tuk cleared her throat and, with as much authority as she could muster, said, “Open.”
Nothing.
"Unlock?"
Still nothing.
She narrowed her eyes. "By the power vested in me—" Nope. Not a damn thing.
Tuk crossed her arms, tapping her foot. “Alright, fine. We’re doing this in the most stupid way.”
She placed a hand over her chest, dramatically raising her other arm.
"I am the chosen one! Unseal thy sacred text!"
Silence.
Her jaw twitched.
"Open sesame?"
The case shimmered slightly, as if in mockery.
She threw her hands up. "Oh, come on! At least pretend I’m close!”
Her voice echoed off the chamber walls, and for a split second, the case glowed—or maybe she was just losing her mind.
Her frustration burned hotter. Fine. You wanna play hard to get? She smacked her palm against the surface, growling, "Let me in, damn it!"
Nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
Tuk let out a sharp breath, sweat beading at her temple. She stepped back, hands on her hips, glaring at the case like it had personally wronged her. This is impossible…
Whatever the case, she wasn’t getting inside today.
Her heart pounded, a mix of determination and unease coiling within her.
She needed another opportunity.
Before she could think further, footsteps echoed in the corridor. Tuk spun just as the heavy door swung open, her pulse hammering against her ribs.
“There you are.”
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Leon’s voice was casual, but Tuk’s body stiffened instinctively. His presence felt like an iron weight pressing against her spine.
“I’ve been looking for you,” he continued, stepping inside. His gaze flickered from her to the glass case. The pause was brief, but it sent a shiver down her back. “What are you doing here?”
Quickly wiping her damp palms against her clothes, she forced a casual chuckle. “Just… comparing the original scroll to the copies we have. Making sure nothing's lost in translation.”
Leon’s expression remained unreadable, his silence stretching just a second too long. “The contents are the same, I assure you.”
His gaze lingered on her—assessing, questioning. Tuk could feel it like a blade against her skin. Then he moved on.
“By the way, the prince ordered that I take you with me.”
Tuk blinked. “Take me where?”
Leon raised a brow, crossing his arms. “Ellis. His Highness has allowed you to travel with me. Isn’t that your homeland? You should be thrilled to visit it again.”
Ellis. Homeland. The words sent a cold shock through her veins.
The name had simply slipped out during a casual conversation—an impulsive lie, something she thought would make her sound like just another commoner, like Rowena and Lea.
And now it was coming back to strangle her.
Leon watched her reaction closely, but Tuk forced a bright smile onto her face. “That’s… wonderful news!” she said, clasping her hands together in mock excitement. “I’ve always wanted to go back.”
Leon’s eyes flickered with something unreadable, his arms still crossed. “We leave by noon tomorrow. Be ready.”
“Of course! I’ll be ready.” Her voice was too cheerful, the edges of her words fraying.
Leon hesitated, then added, “The prince is very interested in Ellis. He’s asked me to take note of anything peculiar. I’ll be relying on you to guide me.”
Tuk’s forced grin felt like it was going to snap off her face.
“Naturally!” she chirped. “I’m an expert, after all.”
Leon gave her one last lingering look before turning and leaving the room.
The moment the door clicked shut, Tuk collapsed onto the cold floor.
“Why, Tuk, why?” she groaned, pressing her hands over her face, her fingers trembling against her skin.
Why couldn’t she have just picked a normal, boring place?
Now she had to go to a kingdom she had never stepped foot in and act like she belonged there.
She rolled onto her side, curling into herself, her heart slamming against her ribs. Ellis wasn’t just some ordinary kingdom. It was one of the most enigmatic places in the realm. Isolated, steeped in ancient traditions, its people were notoriously private. Outsiders were rarely welcomed.
If she slipped even once, they’d know she was lying.
For a fleeting second, she considered finding Lea and Rowena, but then she shook her head. They’re in the emperor’s palace now. Going there without reason would just raise suspicion.
She clenched her jaw. It was too late to change her story.
So what now?
There was no way to back out.
She sat up, inhaling deeply. The air in the chamber felt stifling now. “I’ll just… fake it,” she whispered, trying to convince herself. “How hard can it be?”
She had been lying for so long. To nobles, to historians, to the prince himself.
At this rate, she deserved a damn medal for deception.
But as she rose to her feet, her knees felt weak. The weight of it all settled on her shoulders like an iron cloak.
The thought didn’t fill her with confidence.
It made her feel like a fraud walking a tightrope—one misstep away from plunging into the abyss.
And this time, there’d be no safety net.