As dusk fell, the last rays of the setting sun were hidden behind dark clouds.
It seemed a heavy rain would come tonight.
Londinium had been unusually bustling lately.
Rumors said the Standing Parliament was about to convene.
Rich merchants and nobles seeking favors, along with wronged people hoping to file complaints, were all heading to the capital.
These rain clouds seemed to have followed the crowds into the city.
In front of the Grand Theater, carriages and horses crowded the entrance.
Ticket scalpers waved performance tickets and shouted loudly.
The gathering dark clouds could not stop the surging crowd from pouring toward the theater.
Tonight they would perform the third act of The King of the Fire Rose.
This was the United Kingdom’s most famous historical stage play, divided into three acts and fully depicting the legendary life of Queen Christine.
The play was a golden opportunity for the ticket scalpers to make money.
A sharp-eyed scalper quickly approached a girl in a black overcoat.
She wore the uniform of the Cerberus Bureau. People who wore such clothes in the downtown area were either newly turned vampires who did not know better or workaholics.
They rarely came to places like the theater.
Most likely she had no ticket and no money.
“Hey there, miss. Haven’t gotten a ticket yet? From your bearing I can tell you’re here for Lady Salamander’s performance! The advance tickets for this show sold out long ago. Even getting a standing ticket is harder than reaching the heavens for ordinary people! But your luck today is really good. I happen to have one ticket left. It’s in the middle of the second row—absolute golden seating. The viewing experience is top-notch!”
“Thank you, but I have a ticket.”
Claire shook an opened white envelope, revealing the golden theater ticket inside.
It was a VIP ticket for the Grand Theater, something only wealthy merchants and nobles could obtain.
“M-my apologies, madam. The VIP entrance is this way.”
The scalper bowed hastily and pointed Claire in the right direction. He did not want to offend some important person.
Claire sighed. She did not really want to watch the historical play.
Sibyl had mentioned that an important person wanted to meet her.
That person was Sibyl’s ally and might provide crucial support at the upcoming hearing.
The VIP ticket had been sent by that important person, who had specifically instructed Claire to wear the Cerberus uniform.
People attending the play usually wore formal evening wear.
Although no one dared to stop someone in the black Cerberus overcoat, it made Claire stand out conspicuously in the crowd.
The theater’s roof was at least twenty meters high, providing ample space for sound to echo.
Ahead, the dazzling golden stage came into view. On both sides of the stage, exquisite murals depicted ancient myths and legends.
Claire stepped into the second floor of the theater.
The VIP seats were located here, offering a panoramic view of the entire auditorium.
The VIP seats were velvet armchairs. After Claire sat down, a waiter approached with champagne on a tray to greet her.
Only one woman sat in the neighboring seat. Her shoulder-length red curls blazed like flames, and her blue eyes were deep and cold.
Claire pondered inwardly.
This must be the important person Sibyl mentioned.
This woman was not one of the high officials in Londinium that she knew, yet she exuded an imposing aura that could not be underestimated.
The red-haired woman seemed to notice Claire’s gaze.
She turned her head slightly, the corners of her mouth lifting in a faint, indifferent smile.
“Miss Claire, I hear you will put on quite a show at the hearing.”
Claire nodded lightly, her gaze firm. “Yes. At the hearing I will reveal the truth about the Kent riot. I will not accept any false honors.”
The red-haired woman sighed softly, as if she had already expected Claire’s answer.
“Such courage is admirable, but if you anger the hawks, they will stop at nothing to expose the secret of your identity.”
Claire’s expression changed slightly, but she quickly regained her composure.
“Even if I accept that credit, the hawks will still find reasons to transfer me out of the Cerberus Bureau. My secret will remain hard to keep. Rather than that, I would rather confront them directly. At worst, we all go down together.”
A flicker of approval passed through the red-haired woman’s eyes.
“You are indeed as clever as Sibyl said. However, mutual destruction is not the only way out.”
Claire stared intently at the red-haired woman, her voice trembling slightly. “What do you mean?”
The red-haired woman smiled faintly but did not answer directly.
“I can give you an opportunity. One that will free you from the hawks’ control and allow you to stop relying solely on Sibyl’s protection. I can also help you fulfill your wish—to return to the Southern Continent and see that little princess you have been longing for day and night.”
Her heart clenched violently.
She had never imagined anyone could see through her deepest secret.
She was silent for a moment before finally asking, “…Who exactly are you?”
Just as Claire was about to press further, the theater lights suddenly dimmed and music began to play.
The red-haired woman said softly, “Shh. Watch the play first.”
The golden-red curtain slowly rose, as if unveiling a scroll of myth.
On stage, flames and light intertwined.
The castle of old Agate teetered amid raging fires.
The audience was deeply captivated, as if that battle which changed the fate of the Northern Continent was being replayed before their eyes.
“My warriors, it is truly commendable that you have followed me in battle to this point. Annihilate the demons in this city and bring an end to this great war!”
The Saint Queen Christine, with white hair and red eyes, her impassioned words thundered through the theater.
Her voice carried undeniable resolve and determination.
The girl playing Christine was a descendant of the Salamander family.
Her appearance seemed to be a perfect replica of the legendary queen.
Every movement was precise, every glance full of power.
She moved every member of the audience.
Before the siege of Agate, Christine had led the allied armies of the various nations to defeat the Demon King’s forces three times.
The Demon King’s remnants had chosen to hold the fortress of Agate.
By now Christine’s army numbers had dwindled and could no longer support such a large-scale siege.
Faced with this predicament, Christine’s strategy was bold and decisive.
Elven mages deployed a no-fly spell array.
A transparent barrier slowly opened in the sky, enveloping the entire city. Infantry legions stood like iron walls, tower shields gleaming under the sunlight.
They held long spears, surrounding every city gate in layers.
Mage legions stood on high ground, hands raised high.
Fireballs and meteors rained down like a storm, submerging the demons within the city in a sea of fire.
On stage, flames and thick smoke wove into an apocalyptic scene.
Firelight shot skyward, illuminating the entire theater.
Demons let out shrill wails and charged out from the city gates, seeking any chance of survival, only to be mercilessly pushed back into the sea of fire by spears and tower shields.
Occasionally a powerful demonkin broke through the battle lines, only to be slain by heroes under the Fire Rose banner.
The cycle repeated.
Every clash between human and demon was accompanied by the clang of metal and sparks flying, making the audience feel as if they were personally participating in that real battle.
When Christine and her most elite followers walked toward the center of the stage, the entire hall erupted in thunderous applause.
The Water God Vita, the Hero Noel, the Mane-Head Soudia, and the vampire warrior Sibyl and other heroic figures appeared one after another, each displaying their unique charm and bearing.
When she saw the actress playing Sibyl, Claire almost laughed out loud.
It was a seductive, mature woman wearing a floor-length peacock-feather gown.
The real Sibyl had the appearance of a fifteen-year-old.
Although she could still project authority in front of subordinates and juniors, in front of Herta she always looked sloppy and eager to show off.
Claire glanced sideways. The red-haired woman also seemed to be giggling.
The curtain slowly fell, signaling that the final stage of the siege was about to be performed. The audience held their breath in anticipation.
When the lights brightened again and the curtain rose, the interior city set appeared before everyone.
Christine, the Water God Vita, and the heroes engaged in fierce combat with the black-horned, black-winged Demon King.
On stage, light and shadow intertwined, sword flashes flew.
Every attack and defense was gripping.
Although the fight scenes were somewhat exaggerated and simplified, the tension and excitement remained undiminished, making the audience feel as if they were personally involved in that thrilling battle.
Finally, Christine slew the Demon King with one precise sword technique.
The Fifth Human-Demon War thus came to an end.
The entire hall burst into thunderous cheers and applause. People celebrated the legendary queen’s bravery and wisdom.
Immediately after, the actor playing the Pope, wearing a triple crown, crowned Christine.
The Great Khan of the Twin Moons and the King of Hibernia knelt on one knee in allegiance, symbolizing the formal establishment of the United Kingdom.
Stage plays naturally included romantic elements. Although Christine never married in her lifetime, many historians pointed out that she and the Water God Vita had shared a romantic relationship.
The script had readily adopted this interpretation.
The curtain fell and rose again.
This scene featured a duet dance between Christine and Vita. Christine wore a men’s formal suit.
The actress playing Vita wore a black gauze skirt. Her red curls spun like flames, and deep affection was etched in her blue eyes.
At that moment, Claire suddenly felt a strange sense of familiarity.
She abruptly turned to look and saw the red-haired woman smiling at her.
That signature red curly hair and blue eyes silently announced her identity.
“You finally noticed,” the red-haired woman said with a smile. “I am Vita, the one you call the Water God.”
Claire stared fixedly at Vita, her heart unable to calm. She had never imagined that the legendary Water God would appear before her in person to offer help.
She took a deep breath and tried to keep her voice steady. “Lady Vita, please give me your guidance.”
Vita smiled faintly. “Claire, what I intend to do is the same as the hawks, but I will act before they do and transfer you to work under me.”
“You… you want me to leave the Cerberus Bureau?”
Vita shook her head. “Don’t worry. I’m not stealing people from Sibyl. Your position and records will remain with the Cerberus Bureau. You only need to hold a nominal post under my name.”
Claire’s brows furrowed slightly, doubt still in her heart. “Then what do you need me to do?”
Vita’s gaze suddenly deepened. “Naturally, I still need to make use of your face and identity. The Lucis Empire’s Imperial Electors’ Assembly is about to convene. Your uncle, Prince Anthony, your elder sister, Princess Phine, and that Princess Flora are all candidates for the throne.”
Hearing this, Claire felt panic mixed with a trace of anger.
“You want me to reveal my identity and disrupt the imperial succession? That’s impossible!”
Flora was her only remaining attachment in this world.
Claire absolutely could not let her fall into danger because of her.
If only one Flora could exist in this world, then Claire would choose to die.
Her hands clenched into fists unconsciously, her voice trembling slightly.
Vita gently pressed her index finger against Claire’s lips, signaling her to calm down. “Don’t get agitated. What I want to recruit is only a vampire who looks like Princess Flora—Claire Vandro. You will use this face to become a hidden piece for the little princess, assisting her from the shadows in becoming the Empress of Lucis.”
Applause suddenly erupted, interrupting their conversation. People in the theater were applauding the wonderful performance on stage.
This was the final scene of the play. The actress playing Christine stood atop a towering stage tower.
In 1713, on her thirtieth birthday, Christine committed suicide by leaping from the high tower of the royal palace.
Her reign lasted only thirteen years, yet she had brought the Northern Continent to unprecedented glory.
Some said Christine’s suicide was the result of a coup. In the years after her death, the political world indeed experienced bloody storms.
Others said Christine had been cursed by demons during the war and had endured pain throughout her reign before finally choosing to end her life.
Still others, fanatical believers, claimed Christine was an angel sent by the great god Ein, returning to heaven after completing her mission.
Clearly, the stage play had chosen the third interpretation. Light shone upon Christine, making her figure appear sacred beyond compare.
“My people, wander!
My people, think!
My people, question!
Enjoy to the fullest this entire world I have left for you!”
Her farewell poem echoed through the theater.
As Christine spun upward, grasping a rope like a light silver butterfly, the lights gradually dimmed and the curtain slowly fell.
The audience’s cheers and applause intertwined. The noise pulled Claire’s thoughts back to reality.
Vita stood up, smoothing her blue-green skirt, and picked up a bouquet of rosemary from the neighboring seat.
“Well, I should go present the flowers.” She spoke softly, seeming unwilling to give Claire much time to ask questions.
Claire hurriedly grabbed the hem of Vita’s skirt, trying to keep the departing Water God. “Lady Vita…”
Vita turned around and met Claire’s gaze. Those blue eyes were like a tranquil lake, yet one felt that countless corpses lay沉 at the bottom of that still water.
“One last question. Are you Flora?”
Claire’s heartbeat quickened, but she forced herself to stay calm. “…I am Claire Vandro. I have never heard of that name.”
Vita nodded in satisfaction. “A good answer. Remember not to hesitate next time. Welcome to the Changeling Squad, Miss Claire.”
With that, she turned and left, leaving Claire sitting in the velvet seat with a stunned expression.
***
Veronica Salamander pushed open the glass door of the dressing room and sat before the mirror with a soft sigh.
Veronica’s family was already a remote branch within the clan. Her parents merely lived off the royal surname.
But Veronica happened to have a face identical to Queen Christine’s, so she received invitation letters from major theaters.
As long as her face appeared on stage, the historical play would be a success.
However, in the six years since Veronica entered the profession, she had only ever performed in The King of the Fire Rose.
She had tried to ask her agent and boss about playing other roles, but they always gave roundabout reasons to shut her up.
The only consolation was that there was one audience member who always sent her flowers after performances—always rosemary.
Tonight was no exception. Veronica smelled the distinctive scent of rosemary, faintly bitter yet carrying a fresh fragrance, like summer rain falling on soil.
She quickly called her agent and asked the agent to bring the guest who had sent the bouquet to meet her in the dressing room.
A few minutes later, a red-haired woman in a blue-green evening gown pushed open the dressing room door.
Candlelight flickered between Vita and Veronica. Vita looked at her in silence. Veronica could not read the emotion in her eyes.
Although Vita had never revealed her identity to Veronica, Veronica had more or less guessed that she was the Water God Vita.
After all, the features of red curly hair and blue eyes were too obvious, and whenever she came, it always rained in Londinium.
But what truly confirmed her identity for Veronica was the flower language of rosemary: “Retain memories.”
The lonely Water God had perhaps been missing that king named Christine throughout these seventy years.
Veronica untied the bundle of rosemary Vita had sent and placed them in a crystal glass vase.
“You really do resemble her.” Vita withdrew her gaze.
“I am honored by the guest’s praise. It has been a year since we last met. Have you returned to Londinium this time for some matter?”
Veronica very much wanted to hug the lonely Water God before her, but in the end she could not reach out her hand.
She knew she did not have that right.
“Yes. Something very troublesome.”
Vita’s gaze was always sharp. Veronica never dared to meet it directly, but now her eyes looked very tired.
“I believe the guest will resolve everything smoothly. I wish you all the best.” Veronica forced a smile, hoping to comfort Vita.
“…Thank you.” Vita returned a smile as well, then stood and walked to the window, gazing out at the lights in the rain and mist.
“This city changes so quickly. Fortunately, only your play remains unchanged.” Vita spoke lightly.
Veronica felt a wave of melancholy.
She was already twenty-five this year.
She did not know how many more years she could continue playing Christine.
If one day the play changed its lead actress to someone who did not look like Christine, the Water God would surely be very sad.
“Then please come to the theater to see me often.”
After thinking it over, Veronica could only come up with this reply.
Vita nodded, then pushed open the glass door.
“It’s going to rain heavily. You should head home early too.” Vita said softly.
Veronica noticed that those sapphire-like pupils seemed to hold a glint of tears.
“Don’t be too lonely!”
Before Vita stepped out of the theater, Veronica caught up and, with all her courage, shouted this sentence at the Water God.
Vita froze for a moment, but she did not turn back. She simply walked straight into the curtain of rain.
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