Chapter 13: Enters the Main NPC (Again?!)
The first sign of trouble came in the form of a fanfare.
Which, in Elaine's defense, is never a good thing.
She was midway through explaining to Lior why footnotes were the highest form of passive aggression—"A whole essay of silent judgment in six-point font"—when trumpets blared outside the window.
Lior stiffened. Elaine groaned.
"Please tell me that's not what I think it is," she muttered, already halfway to the window.
Lior joined her, peering past the velvet curtains. "Royal procession," he said grimly. "Has to be someone important."
Elaine squinted at the parade of over-groomed horses, capes flapping like banners, and men who looked like they moisturized with dragon tears. "Important," she echoed. "Or just wildly insecure."
And then her stomach dropped.
There, riding in the center like destiny owed him rent, was Caius.
Tall. Dark. Smug. Wearing his self-importance like a family crest.
In the original story, Caius was Elaine's betrothed.
"Oh no," she whispered. "It's him."
"Him who?" Lior asked, frowning.
Elaine closed the curtains as if that would shut down fate itself. "The main NPC."
Lior blinked. "NPC, what does that mean? You spoke many words I couldn't understand."
Lior squinted his eyes waiting for an answer. "Who's that, my lady?"
"No, Lior, you're my main character now, nobody can change that," she muttered. Then louder: "No one! Just a… war peacock. With a sword!"
She slipped out the door before Lior could follow that up with questions she wasn't ready to answer.
—
Elaine made it to the courtyard just in time to watch Caius dismount with all the flourish of a man used to spotlight entrances. He swept through the palace gates like he owned the deeds.
And honestly, in the original timeline, he practically had.
She braced herself.
"Elaine!" he called, catching sight of her. "My Elaine!"
And there it was. The Swoop. The Smile. The Sizzle of misplaced confidence.
Elaine offered him a diplomatic smile. "Caius. You look… exactly like you left."
"I would hope so," he said, grasping her hand and kissing it. Uninvited, as usual. "I'm unforgettable."
She resisted the urge to scrub her palm on her skirt. "And yet, here we are."
Caius leaned in, voice dipped in honey and prophecy. "I've had visions. Dreams. You were always there—standing at a crossroads. Waiting for me."
"Oh no," she muttered. "Not another one."
"Another what?" he asked, bemused.
"Nothing. You're just… earlier than I expected."
Much earlier. In the original novel, he hadn't returned until three chapters before the end. Which meant something had shifted. Something big.
Before Caius could press further, Lior appeared at her side.
Elaine felt it instantly—the static in the air, the unspoken standoff.
Two timelines. Two men. One heroine who didn't want to repeat old mistakes.
Lior nodded with clipped politeness. "Sir."
Caius looked him over, assessing. "You are?"
"Lior. The knight guarding Lady Elaine and her—" He paused, just long enough for every breath in the courtyard to hold itself hostage.
Elaine held hers, too.
Caius' brow lifted. "Her what?"
Lior glanced at her, then back. "Her future."
Elaine choked on absolutely nothing. Caius' smile faltered.
The air felt like it might crack.
Because just like that, the triangle was back.
Only this time, Elaine wasn't the confused damsel caught between plotlines.
This time, the story was hers to rewrite.
And she wasn't falling for it again.
She was already halfway in love with the "wrong" guy…
And it had never felt more right.