Chapter 33: It Feels Like Someone’s Watching Me

After dinner, Tina returned to her room while Irene was settled elsewhere by a maid.
As a guest, it wouldn’t do to have two unrelated people share a room—basic hospitality.

That said…
Tina had a hunch it wouldn’t be long before someone came knocking.

Knock, knock-knock—
As expected, hesitant taps came from the door, like someone had lingered before mustering the courage.

Oh, who could it be? So hard to guess.
“I’m coming, I’m coming.”

Tina opened the door to find Irene clutching a pillow, lips pursed, visibly nervous.
“What’s up?”

“I’m… scared of the dark. Wanna… sleep with you.”

“What? Scared of the dark?” Tina kept a straight face, but inside, she was dying not to laugh. “Then why’s your vision always dark with that eyepatch?”

“Uh…” Irene pondered, realizing her excuse to bunk together was flimsy. “You’re… right.”

She turned to leave, dejected, probably to rethink her approach.
“Alright, alright.” Tina grabbed the sulking girl, comforting her. “Just say what you need—no need for excuses.”

“Really?”
Irene’s gloom vanished at Tina’s warm words.

“Yup. Wanna sleep here? Come on.”
Tina patted the soft sheets, inviting Irene onto the bed.

One person? Plenty of space. Two? Just right—
Or not.

Tina expected they’d each take a side, but Irene sprawled in the middle, leaving her no room.
She had to sidle up, clinging to the edge to avoid falling off.

“Uh… why are you hugging me?”
Tina felt arms around her waist and something soft pressed against her back, utterly confused.

No answer came—just steady breathing behind her.
Fine, Irene was asleep. Maybe the comfy bed or sense of safety did it.

Youth, huh? Out like a light.
Tina, sleepless, let her mind wander.

It was her first day post-simulation, and the system stayed mum on whether its events carried into reality.
She needed to know if her misdeeds left a mark on history—it could affect her life, even her safety.

There was one way to find out.
She could try connecting to her puppet remotely.

If she could feel it, the events were real, not just a simulation as the system claimed.
If not, the Althea in history was a stranger, and Tina was on a different “what-if” timeline.

“Let’s try.”
Tina focused, sifting through scattered magic currents for her unique thread.

The surrounding magic was chaotic, but a witch’s aura stood out—like a vibrant black in a colorless world. She found it.
Her vision traced the thread from Valencia to Kellivir, connecting to the puppet as hoped.

Objectively, this wasn’t good news.
It meant Althea likely knew her. If they met and she was recognized, it’d spell disaster.

Disaster for her, not others.
But on the flip side, it gave Tina access to connections most couldn’t dream of.

She couldn’t use them now, but they were there if needed. Maybe one day she’d grovel, begging, “Please, Althea, if I didn’t have you…” to escape death.
For now, she’d check on Althea.

Tina adjusted the puppet’s vision clarity. Unused for six years, it was still meticulously preserved.
“Your Majesty, these are tomorrow’s documents to sign.” A secretary placed a thick stack on the desk.

“Got it.” Althea, still working late, exuded a mature charm with her meticulous focus.
“By the way, about the Valencia auction, Your Majesty…”

“Anything worth wanting?”
Althea was indifferent—her palace didn’t need impractical treasures.

“It’s mainly their king inviting all leaders, hoping you’ll give him face.” The secretary relayed the message.
“Oh? Who else is going?”

“Your Majesty, three nations’ top representatives have confirmed, and the rest are likely joining.”
“Fine. I don’t know what they’re scheming, but I can’t refuse now.”

Althea set down her finished work, stretching.
“Prepare my itinerary. We leave in a few days.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Daily tasks done, Althea changed into a nightgown and sat by the window, gazing at the full moon.
Valencia? An auction? What was that old king plotting?

Gathering all leaders—there had to be an ulterior motive.
She was only going to keep up appearances; other kingdoms didn’t take her, a young queen, seriously.

“Hm? Who’s there?”
Althea sensed a gaze but saw no one behind her.

Overworked, hallucinating?
She felt the puppet on the bookshelf move, but staring at it, it was still.

“Been a while since I slept with you…”

Seeing Althea approach the bookshelf, Tina instantly knew her intent and cut the connection, snapping back to her own vision.
“Phew—”

A second later, and she’d have been grabbed. She didn’t want to be manhandled as a cuddle toy.
Though, well, she was already Irene’s pillow here.

Being held by one girl while thinking of another felt… odd.
Was this the infamous thrill of guilt? Kind of exciting.

If Althea found out she’d faked her death, then two-timed her, she’d probably face harsh punishment.
That could not happen. She’d have to avoid Althea at the auction.

Once that time passed, she’d be safe.