Chapter 5:
Too Small For Power
The halls of Ashford felt different after the news. Quieter. Heavier. Servants moved with softer steps. Doors closed more gently. Whispers curled like smoke in the corners of rooms Grace wasn’t supposed to enter, but always found ways to.
She followed her mother without a word, the soft click of her shoes muffled by thick carpets and cold stone. Duchess Liliana walked ahead, her crimson gown whispering against the walls, her presence cutting through the silence like the tip of a blade.
And Grace grinned inwardly as she followed.
The last three years had not been easy. Elyne, her ever-present governess, had remained constantly at her side, watchful, dutiful, and endlessly bothersome. To everyone else, she was Grace’s gentle caretaker. To Grace, she was a chain.
It was exhausting, the endless pretending. Always playing the role of the sweet, innocent child she was supposed to be. Smiling at the right moments. Crying when it was expected.
Grace hated it.
When the time is right, she thought, I will get rid of her.
But for now… what a happy stroke of luck.
Those idiot brothers of mine.
They had been strong, admired, destined for titles and legacy. All eyes had been on them. No one had looked at her.
No one had feared her. Not yet.
Grace folded her hands neatly in front of her as they reached the solar, a private chamber on the upper floor of the estate, used for quiet meetings, correspondence, and matters of state. It was a place reserved for strategy, for secrets, for power.
The moment Liliana stepped through the heavy oak doors; two guards closed them behind her. Grace, small and silent, entered right behind her mother. The solar smelled of parchment, sealing wax, and something sharp and bitter.
At the far end of the room stood Ser Elric. He was not tall, nor broad, but something in the way he held himself made him seem larger than he was. His cloak was dark and trimmed with silver thread, his eyes a cold slate grey. Grace had seen him only once before, from the stairwell above the east hall.
He hadn’t looked up then. He disrespected me. He did now. His eyes landed on her for half a second, then flicked to Liliana.
"Your Grace," he said, bowing with perfect control. "I came as soon as I received your summons."
"I need your ink," Liliana said without ceremony, stepping toward the long table in the center of the room.
Elric didn’t ask which ink. He reached into his cloak and pulled out a narrow, rune-marked vial. It shimmered faintly with violet light.
"The message is to be read only by the Duke," Liliana continued. "Not intercepted. Not altered."
"As always," Elric replied. "What is the nature of the encryption?"
"Personal. A layered memory spell, sealed in familial sigil. I will write it myself."
Grace crept closer, pretending to study the shelves of old books that lined the walls. But her ears were open.
Liliana conjured a scroll from the air, her fingers dancing with golden glyphs. The quill that lifted itself from the desk obeyed her without resistance. The ink glowed as it touched parchment.
Ser Elric remained silent, watching. And Grace watched him.
He was more than a court mage. That much she was sure of. Corax, the summoned spirit Grace had sent to investigate him, had returned with nothing. His magical security was too neat, too tightly woven. Every ward, every trace of spell work perfectly in place.
And that annoyed Grace immensely.
She hated it. She hated all of it.
She hated that others had more power than her, simply because they were older. She hated that magic in this world was such a bloated, senseless system, that each Circle was a gatekeeper to the next, every one an immense leap in power. She hated how smug, how perfectly composed people like Ser Elric were, despite being — at least in her mind — nothing more than talentless bastards who had luck and time on their side.
Liliana wrote quickly, precisely, her expression carved from stone.
When the scroll was done, Liliana sealed it with a twist of her fingers. The wax shimmered, then hardened with a symbol Grace had never seen before. Not the crest of Ashford. Something older.
"Send it through your network," Liliana said. "Use the route through Valecross."
"Understood," Elric replied. He took the scroll with care, as if it weighed more than paper ever should.This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
Then, for a moment, silence returned.
Liliana turned to Grace and her eyes landed on her daughter.
"You may as well stop pretending to look at the books, Grace," she said, voice even. "You followed me."
Grace didn’t flinch. She turned around slowly; her expression neutral.
"You said I should stay close. I am."
Liliana arched a brow. "So you are."
Ser Elric watched the exchange with open curiosity.
"She is... observant," he noted.
"More than she should be," Liliana replied, her gaze still locked on Grace. But there was no anger in her voice. Only thought. Grace tilted her head slightly.
"What happened to my brothers was no accident," she said softly. "Was it?"
Liliana didn’t answer. But she didn’t deny it, either.
"You’ll remain close to me," she said instead. Repeating her earlier words. "Until this is over."
"Good," Grace replied. "I learn faster that way..."
Ser Elric blinked at her. Grace looked with a friendly innocent smile back and Liliana just exhaled, with a faint, tired smile at the edge of her lips.
"Send the message," she told Elric. "Then summon Captain Rennar. We begin fortifying the estates today."
Elric bowed and vanished through a shimmer of light.
"Mother," Grace asked. "Who do you think it is?"
Liliana looked down at her daughter — five years old, eyes far too clear.
"I don’t know," she said quietly. "But whoever it is... they’ll learn what it means to provoke Ashford."
Grace smiled with a toothy grin. And this time, she didn’t hide it. They will learn.
--::--
After the meeting with Ser Elric, Grace’s mother ordered her governess, or rather, her bodyguard, Elyne Marren to stay close to her at all times, without exception. Not that Elyne could stay any closer anyway. But her mother had said more: no more quiet walks alone, no more secret glances into the restricted wing. Grace had tried to protest, to argue with reasoned defiance, but Liliana had only smiled, called her a cute little girl, and dismissed her pleas with a wave of the hand — like a mother indulging a child’s tantrum.
It stung and Grace had clenched her fists in silence. But her mother was the only being who could boss her around without incurring her wrath for too long. After all, she loved her.
Later, she didn’t bother hiding her annoyance from Elyne afterward. The girl had hovered like a shadow the entire day, cheerful and unaware, speaking in that singsong voice Grace had come to loathe. Grace responded with short, sweet smiles and honeyed words that masked her simmering frustration.
“Gracieee, it’s time for your midday tea~” Elyne chirped, entering the room with a tray in hand.
Grace turned toward her with a flawless smile, eyes wide and bright.“Thank you, Elyne,” she said sweetly, her voice sugar-laced.
One day, she thought, I’ll poison the tea myself.
Elyne set the tray down on a small table beside the window, then knelt to fluff Grace’s pillows — unasked, as always.
“You were awfully serious today,” she said lightly, brushing a blond curl from Grace’s forehead. “All those big grown-up meetings must be very boring for a little lady like you.”
Grace blinked up at her, letting her lower lip tremble ever so slightly.“They talked about my brothers,” she whispered.
Elyne’s expression softened instantly. She reached for Grace’s hand, squeezing it gently.
“I know, darling. I’m so sorry. It must be confusing.”
It’s not, Grace thought. It’s wonderful.
“But you’re such a brave little thing,” Elyne went on. “You always hold your chin up, just like your mother.”
Grace tilted her head and let the compliment settle in.
“Do you think she’s proud of me?”
Elyne smiled, brushing her thumb across Grace’s hand.
“I know she is.”
Grace nodded, sipping her tea with dainty precision.
She let the silence stretch, long and thoughtful, before finally saying:
“You’ll always stay with me, won’t you, Elyne?”
The older girl beamed. “Of course. I promised your mother, and I’d never leave you alone. Never.”
Grace smiled sweetly.
We’ll see, she thought.
--::--
A little later, Grace was finally alone in her room. Night had fallen over Ashford, the halls quiet, the torches dimmed to soft embers. The ever-annoying Elyne had retired to her own chamber – unfortunately located right next to Grace’s.
Still, it was something. Finally, silence. Finally, space to think. To be.
She had now spent five years in this world, and in all that time, she had tried everything to push forward, to grow stronger. But progress came slowly. Too slowly. She couldn’t do everything she wanted. Her young body was a constant hindrance, soft and small, clumsy where she needed precision, weak where she needed strength.
It infuriated her.
Although she was already a mage of the Third Circle, Grace felt as though she had been stagnating for years. Her progress — by her standards — was painfully slow. If anyone else knew the truth, they’d probably faint on the spot… and then scream in outrage that a five-year-old girl could dare to say such a thing. After all, one of the youngest recorded Third Circle mages was none other than Elyne Marren – hailed as a prodigy for achieving that level at sixteen. Grace had reached it more than a decade earlier. But it didn’t matter for Grace. Only her own achievements mattered. Only the borders she had yet to break. Next year, she would officially be assigned a teacher. But she had no hopes it would help her, after all she didn’t want to break out of her role.
Since her magical growth felt stagnant, she had turned to training her body again last year. Vitalis, one of her self-forged pillars, demanded combat readiness at all times. But even that, in her opinion, brought nothing but frustration. Her childish frame was a prison – too small, too soft, too slow. Every attempt to improve was hindered by the weakness of flesh not yet ripened for strength.
And there was another problem.
Grace missed her entertainment.
She missed her anime, her novels, her movies—all the vibrant, chaotic, and twisted stories that had once filled her old world. In her past life, those things had been more than simple distractions. They were fuel. Inspiration. An escape from a dull, predictable existence.
But here?
Here, there was nothing.
Her early years in this world had been a boring hell. She had wanted to escape Earth because it bored her to death – but instead of waking in an exciting new life as a villainess, she found herself trapped in another boring shithole… as a child, no less.
No empires to conquer. No rival heiresses to destroy. No elegant masquerades hiding sharpened daggers. At least for now.
Just soft voices, warm blankets, and an endless parade of adults telling her what to do.
It was maddening.
She even missed her simps and her daily streams.
What is MarleX doing? Is he alright? Does he follow the three pillars?
Grace sighed.
No, this is wrong. I’m more than that… I should just follow the plan…
She thought of him — the madman with the painted smile. The one who danced through chaos and made the world burn just to prove a point. One of her role models. The Joker.
“Introduce a little anarchy,” she whispered to herself, echoing his voice in her mind.
“Upset the established order… and everything becomes chaos.”
Her lips curled slowly into a grin, and her blue eyes darkened just slightly, a faint shimmer of pink flickering in their depths.
Yes... maybe it’s finally time to play a little.