The Clock Ticks

The soft rustling of leaves in the evening breeze was in stark contrast to the turmoil inside Leona. She stood in the garden where moonlight transformed the roses into a silvery white. The serene beauty around her seemed almost cruel as the storm raged on in her mind.

That robotic voice had been relentless today. 

"Two months, eighteen days, six hours remaining until collapse."

Leona's fists clenched. Time was slipping through her fingers faster than she could catch it, and her mission only grew more complicated by the hour: Vivienne still teetering between her growing strength and her vulnerability, Magnus spinning his web of schemes, and now… Cedric.

The sound of footsteps on the gravel path behind her pulled Leona from her thoughts. She turned to see Cedric approaching, his face illuminated by the pale moonlight. He looked as regal and composed as ever, but there was something in his eyes—an intensity that made her heart stutter.

"Leona," Cedric said, his voice low and warm. "I've been looking for you."

Leona swallowed hard, forcing an impassive expression. "Something amiss, my lord?"

He halted just several feet away, his gaze locking with hers. "Must you always refer to me that way? Cedric will suffice."

Her heart thudded painfully in her chest. She had spent the better part of weeks attempting to hold him at bay, re-addressing his attentions toward her sister Vivienne, and yet Cedric was persistent as he was charming.

"I am but a maid," she whispered, "it would not do."

"Do," Cedric echoed, almost to himself. "Leona, do you think to me a question of propriety?"

She parted her lips to answer, but words were dead in her throat, as he moved one step closer.

"I've been thinking," Cedric said now, his voice somber. "About you. About how, no matter how chaotic things become, you're always there. Strong, calm, unshakable."

She had felt a pang of guilt. If only he knew that her composure was a mask, her strength born of desperation.

"I cannot feign anymore," Cedric told her, his voice having dropped to almost a whisper. "I care for you, Leona-deeply, more than I'd have ever thought possible."

The world seemed to tilt. For a moment, Leona forgot how to breathe. This was not part of the story. Cedric was supposed to love Vivienne, not her.

"Cedric, I—"

He took her hand, cutting her off. His touch was warm, steady, and completely disarming.

"Please," he said, his eyes searching hers. "Tell me I'm not alone in this."

Leona's mind raced. The robotic voice's warning echoed in her head: 

"Deviation detected. Male lead alignment critical."

If Cedric continued down this path, the story would unravel. The characters' destinies would spiral further out of control, and the collapse would accelerate.

She had to put a stop to this. For the sake of the world. For her own survival.

"Cedric," she began carefully, pulling her hand from his, "you're mistaken."

He frowned, his brows drawing together in confusion. "Mistaken?"

I'm just a maid," she said, forcing her voice not to break. "A nameless nobody in this grand story of yours. You deserve someone who matches your strength, your station. Someone like Vivienne."

Cedric's jaw clenched. "Vivienne is a good woman, but she is not you. I don't care about station or status. I care about you, Leona."

Her heart ached at the sincerity in his voice. She wanted to believe him, to let herself get swept away in his warmth and kindness. But this wasn't her story.

"Cedric, I'm sorry," she said, stepping back. "I can't be what you want."

He looked at her, a mixture of hurt and determination in his eyes. "I'm not giving up on you."

Before she could respond, he turned and walked away, leaving her standing alone in the garden, her heart heavy with guilt and fear.

The reprieve for Leona was short-lived. By morning, whispers buzzed through the estate like flies. The unusual interest of Cedric in the maid had reached the ears of the court; speculation ran rife.

"She must have bewitched him," one servant muttered. 

"A maid catching the eye of the crown prince? Unheard of!"

Leona kept her head down, doing her best to avoid the curious and suspicious glances cast her way.

But the real trouble came later, when Vivienne found her in the library.

Vivienne's eyes were sharp as she approached, a far cry from the timid girl Leona had first met.

"Leona," she said, her voice calm but firm. "We need to talk.

Leona set down the book she had been pretending to read. "Of course, what's on your mind?"

Vivienne crossed her arms, her eyes piercing. "Cedric. He's been… different lately. Distracted. And I can't help but notice that his attention seems to be focused on you."

Leona winced inwardly. "Vivienne, I-"

"I'm not angry," Vivienne interrupted, surprising her. "But I need to know the truth. Do you have feelings for him?

The question slapped Leona in the face. She shook her head vehemently. "No. I don't."

Vivienne studied her a long moment before nodding. "Good. Because this world is fragile, Leona. I can feel it. And if we don't play our parts correctly…"

She didn't have to finish the sentence.

Leona forced a small smile. "Don't worry, Vivienne. I'm on your side.

But even as she said the words, Leona couldn't ignore the pang of doubt in her chest. How could she keep the story on track when everything—Cedric, Vivienne, Magnus—was spiraling out of control?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. A guard stepped inside, his expression grim.

"Lady Vivienne," he said. "Duke Magnus requests your presence."

Vivienne's eyes narrowed, but she nodded. "Thank you. I'll be there shortly."

As the guard withdrew, a pang landed in Leona's chest. Magnus was reeling Vivienne into his clutches, just as the robotic voice had warned.

She needed to act, and fast.

Later that night, Leona trailed Vivienne into Magnus's study, keeping to the shadows. Through the crack in the door, she listened in on their conversation.

"You've grown strong, Vivienne," Magnus said, with an unmistakable undertone of feigned admiration. "Stronger than I had thought."

"I have had to," Vivienne responded coolly.

Magnus chuckled. "Good. Strength is a valuable asset. And with my guidance, you could become unstoppable."

Leona's blood ran cold. Magnus was trying to manipulate Vivienne, to twist her newfound confidence into something dark and destructive.

Before she could think, Leona stepped into the room. "Am I interrupting?"

Vivienne and Magnus both turned to her, surprise flashing across their faces.

"Leona," Vivienne said, her voice laced with confusion. "What are you doing here?

Leona forced a smile. "I was just passing by and thought I'd see if you needed anything."

Magnus's eyes narrowed, suspicion flickering in their depths. "How… thoughtful of you."

Leona ignored him, focusing on Vivienne. "If you're finished here, Lady Vivienne, I could use your help with something."

Vivienne hesitated, looking to Magnus, who gave her a predatory smile.

"Go," he said smoothly. "We'll continue this conversation later.

With her tugging him away, the man of flowers, Vivienne could sense that he had just formed an enemy in her-a highly dangerous one.

Later at night, Leona had lain in her bed until it sounded. The robotic voice returned.

"Deviation accelerating, male lead and antagonist are at critical. Intervention's needed immediately."

She glared at the ceiling. Chills ran down her tummy as time seemed to run out, the ticking clock louder than ever.

With impossibilities surrounding her mission, it still wasn't an option for her to fail.

She had to find a way to fix this broken story before it shattered completely if she wanted to survive.