I woke up on Day Twelve with a plan that was either brilliant or completely insane.
Probably both.
Definitely both.
I'm going to publicly demonstrate necromancy at a garden party.
In front of witnesses.
On PURPOSE.
This is FINE.
This is absolutely FINE.
What could possibly go wrong?
The invitation had arrived yesterday afternoon—a delicate cream envelope with House Silvermere's seal pressed into silver wax. Lady Margot Silvermere was hosting a garden party to celebrate the spring equinox, and House Raven was cordially invited.
Translation: "Please come so we can show everyone we're important enough to host the terrifying dark magic family."
They expect me to be boring.
They expect me to sit quietly and drink tea and make polite conversation.
They have NO IDEA what's coming.
I sat up in bed, and Nyx immediately slithered onto my lap.
"You're doing it today," he said. Not a question. A statement.
"I'm doing it today," I confirmed.
The grimoire spell.
The group reanimation.
Three birds. In public. In front of everyone.
This is my main character moment.
This is where I stop HIDING and start PERFORMING.
Nyx's tongue flicked out. "You're nervous."
"I'm NOT nervous," I lied.
I'm ABSOLUTELY nervous.
I'm about to commit magical heresy in front of minor nobles who will DEFINITELY tell everyone.
The Church is going to hear about this.
The royal family is going to hear about this.
EVERYONE is going to hear about this.
That's the POINT.
But also: TERRIFYING.
"You're definitely nervous," Nyx said. "Your heart rate just spiked."
Traitor.
My own familiar is a TRAITOR.
"I'm strategically concerned," I said. "There's a difference."
"Sure," Nyx said, and I could HEAR the sarcasm dripping from his voice.
I got out of bed and walked to my wardrobe.
What does one wear to commit public magical villainy?
Something dramatic.
Something that says 'I'm about to ruin your garden party and you're going to REMEMBER it.'
I pulled out a dress in deep midnight blue—almost black—with silver embroidery that looked like constellations. The neckline was high and elegant, the sleeves long and fitted. It was beautiful, sophisticated, and absolutely appropriate for a garden party.
Perfect.
I'm going to look RESPECTABLE while I raise the dead.
That's the kind of cognitive dissonance that makes legends.
I dressed carefully, fastening the silver raven necklace around my neck. The amethyst eyes caught the light, glowing faintly.
Mother's inheritance.
A symbol of House Raven's power.
A reminder that I'm PROTECTED.
Even when I'm committing magical heresy.
Nyx coiled around my shoulders as I headed downstairs.
The carriage was waiting—black lacquered wood with silver ravens carved into the doors. Very subtle. Very House Raven.
We don't do ANYTHING subtly.
Why would we?
We're DARK MAGES.
I climbed into the carriage, and we set off toward House Silvermere's estate.
"So," Nyx said as we rolled through the streets of the capital. "What's the plan?"
The plan.
RIGHT.
I should probably have an actual PLAN.
"I'm going to attend the party," I said. "Be polite. Drink tea. Make small talk."
"Boring," Nyx said.
"And THEN," I continued, "when the moment is right, I'm going to find three dead birds—"
"There will definitely be dead birds in a garden," Nyx interrupted. "Birds die ALL the time. It's very convenient for necromancers."
He's not wrong.
Nature is basically a necromancer's supply closet.
"—and I'm going to use the grimoire spell to raise all three at once."
"The battlefield spell," Nyx said, and there was something almost... impressed in his voice. "Bold."
Bold.
That's one word for it.
INSANE is another word.
But I'm committed now.
I'm DOING this.
"It's a statement," I said. "It's not just 'look, I can raise one bird.' It's 'look, I can raise MULTIPLE corpses SIMULTANEOUSLY with a SINGLE spell.'"
"It's showing off," Nyx said.
"It's PERFORMING," I corrected. "There's a difference."
Machiavelli understood this.
Power isn't just about HAVING it.
It's about making sure everyone KNOWS you have it.
It's about the PERFORMANCE.
The carriage rolled through the gates of House Silvermere's estate, and I got my first look at the garden.
Oh.
Oh, this is PERFECT.
The garden was beautiful—manicured lawns, flowering trees, elegant fountains, and stone pathways winding through carefully arranged flower beds. There were maybe thirty guests scattered throughout, all dressed in pastels and spring colors.
They look like a painting.
A peaceful, serene, BORING painting.
I'm about to ruin it.
I'm about to ruin it SO HARD.
Lady Margot Silvermere greeted me at the entrance—a woman in her forties with silver-blonde hair and a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.
"Lady Isabel," she said, and her voice was carefully neutral. "How wonderful that you could join us."
Translation: "I invited you because I HAD to, but I really hope you don't cause a scene."
Too late, Lady Margot.
WAY too late.
"The pleasure is mine, Lady Silvermere," I said, matching her polite tone. "Your garden is lovely."
It IS lovely.
It's about to be a LOT less lovely.
But right now, it's very pretty.
She led me into the garden, introducing me to various minor nobles—Lord This, Lady That, all of them smiling politely while their eyes screamed "Please don't curse us."
I'm not going to curse you.
I'm going to do something MUCH more memorable.
I accepted a cup of tea from a servant and positioned myself near one of the fountains, observing the party.
Timing.
This is all about TIMING.
I need the right moment.
The moment when everyone's relaxed.
The moment when they think I'm just another boring noble.
THAT'S when I strike.
Nyx shifted on my shoulders. "There," he whispered, so quietly only I could hear.
I followed his gaze.
Three dead birds.
Sparrows, by the look of them.
Lying in the grass near a rose bush.
Perfect.
ABSOLUTELY perfect.
Nature provides.
I sipped my tea and waited.
A young noble—Lord Something-or-other from House Thornwick—approached me with a nervous smile.
"Lady Isabel," he said. "I heard about your... encounter with Prince Aldric at the palace reception."
Oh, EVERYONE heard about that.
That's the POINT.
"Did you?" I said pleasantly. "How interesting."
"It was very brave," he said, and he actually sounded sincere. "Standing up to him like that."
Brave.
Or INSANE.
Probably both.
"I simply spoke the truth," I said. "Prince Aldric is boring and predictable. Someone needed to say it."
Lord Thornwick laughed—a genuine, surprised laugh.
"You're not what I expected," he said.
No one ever expects the villainess.
That's what makes it FUN.
"I rarely am," I said.
He excused himself, and I was alone again.
Now.
This is the moment.
Everyone's relaxed.
Everyone's distracted.
Time to RUIN this peaceful garden party.
I set down my teacup and walked casually toward the rose bush where the dead birds lay.
Three sparrows.
Small. Delicate. Very dead.
Perfect for a demonstration.
I knelt beside them, and several nearby nobles glanced over curiously.
Good.
I WANT them watching.
I WANT witnesses.
I reached into my bag and pulled out the grimoire—Nyx the Malevolent's original grimoire, bound in black leather with shifting silver runes.
This is it.
This is the MOMENT.
No turning back now.
I opened the grimoire to the page I'd marked last night—the group reanimation spell. The words were written in Old Valdric, elegant and precise.
"Mortem revoco. Vitam nego. Umbra serviat."
I call upon death. I deny life. Let the dead rise again.
A battlefield spell.
Designed to raise MULTIPLE corpses at once.
Efficient. Powerful. Absolutely TERRIFYING to witness.
I took a deep breath and placed my hand on the first bird.
Death.
I can feel it.
The absence. The void. The space where life used to be.
I began the incantation, my voice clear and steady.
"Mortem revoco."
The air grew cold. The temperature dropped so suddenly that I saw my breath mist in front of me.
Good.
The magic is responding.
Keep going.
"Vitam nego."
The first bird twitched. Then the second. Then the third.
YES.
It's WORKING.
The spell is WORKING.
I felt the magic surge through me—not the careful, controlled magic of blood rituals or individual reanimation. This was POWER. Raw, ancient, overwhelming.
This is what Nyx the Malevolent used on battlefields.
This is what he used to raise ARMIES.
And I'm using it on three sparrows.
Overkill?
Maybe.
But LEGENDARY overkill.
"Umbra serviat!"
The three birds jerked upright simultaneously, their eyes glowing with that eerie purple light.
And then they flew.
All three of them, circling above the rose bush in perfect formation.
I DID IT.
I ACTUALLY DID IT.
Three birds. One spell. In front of EVERYONE.
The garden went silent.
Completely, utterly silent.
Every conversation stopped. Every noble turned to stare. I saw Lady Margot's face go pale, her teacup frozen halfway to her lips.
Perfect.
ABSOLUTELY perfect.
This is EXACTLY the reaction I wanted.
I stood up slowly, the grimoire still in my hand, and looked at the assembled nobles.
"Apologies," I said, my voice carrying across the silent garden. "I was just... practicing."
Practicing.
I just raised three corpses in the middle of a garden party and called it PRACTICE.
I'm a GENIUS.
One of the nobles—an older woman in a pink dress—actually backed away, her hand pressed to her chest.
"That's... that's dark magic," she whispered.
Yes.
Yes, it IS.
Thank you for stating the obvious.
"It is," I said pleasantly. "House Raven specializes in dark magic. Surely you knew that?"
Of course they knew that.
But knowing it in THEORY is different from SEEING it.
From watching three dead birds rise and fly.
From feeling the temperature drop and the air grow heavy with death.
Lady Margot finally found her voice. "Lady Isabel, I... I don't think..."
She trailed off, clearly unsure what to say.
What DO you say when your guest raises the dead at your garden party?
Emily Post didn't cover THIS scenario.
"Thank you for the lovely tea," I said, closing the grimoire. "But I should be going. I have... other matters to attend to."
Other matters.
Like becoming LEGENDARY.
Like ensuring everyone here tells EVERYONE they know about what just happened.
I walked toward the exit, the three undead sparrows still circling above me.
Dramatic exit.
VERY dramatic exit.
I'm NAILING this.
Nyx's tongue flicked against my ear. "You're insane."
"I'm LEGENDARY," I corrected.
"You just committed magical heresy in front of thirty witnesses."
Yes.
Yes, I DID.
And it was GLORIOUS.
"They're all going to talk," Nyx continued. "The Church is going to hear about this. The royal family is going to hear about this."
"Good," I said.
That's the POINT.
I'm not hiding anymore.
I'm not pretending to be harmless.
I'm PERFORMING.
I'm building my LEGEND.
One public demonstration at a time.
The carriage was waiting, and I climbed inside, releasing the spell as soon as the door closed.
The three birds dropped from the sky, lifeless once more.
Sorry, sparrows.
You served your purpose.
You helped me become LEGENDARY.
As the carriage rolled away from House Silvermere's estate, I looked out the window at the garden party I'd just ruined.
They're still standing there.
Still staring.
Still processing what just happened.
Perfect.
Nyx shifted on my shoulders. "So. That happened."
"That happened," I agreed.
And it was EVERYTHING I hoped it would be.
Public. Shocking. Undeniable.
Technically not illegal—necromancy isn't outlawed in Astervane, just... heavily frowned upon.
But DEFINITELY heretical.
The Church is going to LOSE THEIR MINDS.
"You realize there's no going back now," Nyx said.
No going back.
I've crossed the line.
I've gone from 'that weird dark magic girl who insulted the prince' to 'that TERRIFYING dark mage who raises the dead at garden parties.'
Holy SHIT I actually did that.
I ACTUALLY raised three corpses in front of thirty witnesses and just WALKED AWAY.
Like it was NOTHING.
Like I wasn't committing magical heresy in broad daylight.
The Church is going to hear about this and they're going to LOSE IT.
Aldric is going to hear about this and he's going to realize I'm not some bored noble playing with dark magic—I'm SERIOUS.
I'm COMMITTED.
I'm not hiding anymore and that's either the smartest or dumbest thing I've ever done.
Probably both.
Definitely both.
Mother's going to be FURIOUS and also secretly proud and that's going to be HILARIOUS.
And Riku—oh god, Riku's going to hear about this and he's going to think I'm even MORE interesting and I'm going to have to deal with that WHOLE situation again.
My heart is still RACING.
I can feel the magic still humming under my skin like I just drank lightning.
That was INTOXICATING.
That was the most fun I've had since I woke up in this body.
And now everyone knows I can do it.
Everyone knows I WILL do it.
There's no taking it back.
There's no pretending to be harmless.
I just announced myself to the entire capital.
I looked down at the grimoire in my lap—Nyx the Malevolent's original grimoire, the source of the spell I'd just used.
Thank you, Truck-kun.
Thank you for this second chance.
Thank you for this PERFECT opportunity to become everything I was meant to be.
A villainess.
A legend.
Someone who will be REMEMBERED.
Nyx laughed softly. "This is going to be entertaining."
"Shut up," I said.
But I was grinning.