The Last Bow

In the Rosewood Courtyard, where Lady Margaret, the mistress of the Chancellor's Estate, resided, a large gathering of maids, servants, and the estate's female members huddled together in a state of panic. Fear gripped them all as the harsh reality of their fate set in.

Lady Margaret, delicate by nature and unaccustomed to such calamity, stood helplessly amidst the chaos, her face pale with dread. She had no idea how to regain control of the situation.

Seeing this, the servants, realizing that order had collapsed, began to ransack the courtyard, snatching at whatever valuables and food they could get their hands on. Their fear was palpable-if they delayed even a second, they feared they would be left with nothing.

In the midst of the disorder, a young woman stood poised, holding a zither in her arms. Her back was straight, her bearing elegant. She did not join in the panic; rather, she observed the servants with an expression of cold amusement, as if watching a troupe of jesters performing a pitiful act.

"How utterly disgraceful," Isabella Yates scoffed, her voice ringing sharp over the clamoring voices. "Are you all the reincarnations of starving wretches? When has the Chancellor's Estate ever deprived you of food and wages? To behave in such a pathetic manner is an embarrassment to the Chancellor's family."

At that moment, amidst the crowd, Eleanor Quinn was shoved by someone. Stumbling slightly, she remained dazed. These words struck her mind like a bolt of lightning, splitting her thoughts apart.

She was stunned for a brief moment before the weight of realization settled in her chest-she had been reborn. This was the day the Chancellor's Estate was seized.

In her previous life, on this very day, the Chancellor's Estate had been ransacked, its men exiled to the farthest reaches of the kingdom, and its women dragged away to be enslaved under the Bureau of Penal Affairs.

All of it had been because of one mistake-her father had backed the wrong faction in a political struggle, and his rivals had impeached him, leading to the utter downfall of their house.

At the time, Eleanor Quinn had taken advantage of the ensuing chaos to hide what little silver she could scavenge and later bribed her way into the Bureau to ensure her family would at least have food to eat in their suffering.

But Isabella Yates had called her lowly and spineless, accusing her of currying favor with servants and lacking the integrity befitting a noblewoman.

Isabella Yates, in all her supposed dignity, had entered the Bureau with nothing but a broken zither and plain robes, acting as though she were above it all.

Yet, when hunger and desperation consumed their family, when their once-proud lineage withered away in suffering, Isabella Yates, who had prided herself on her nobility, chose to kneel before their enemies and debase herself for survival. She became the concubine of Prince Dominic and severed all ties with the fallen Chancellor's Estate. She watched in cold detachment as their father and brother perished in exile, their mother and sisters succumbing to grief and despair.

Isabella Yates had not thought herself in the wrong. No, she had justified it all with cold indifference:

"You have to fight for your own fate. Father and brother made their choices. They were the ones who failed. Now that I have climbed to the top, should I let myself be dragged down with them? That would be foolishness, nothing more."

Now, Eleanor Quinn was back in that moment. Back in her young body, back on the day of her family's downfall.

She stretched out her hands and gazed at them. They were soft and smooth, unmarked by hardship, nothing like the frail and emaciated hands she had in her past life, worn thin by years of suffering.

Chaos continued around her. Several servants were still scrambling for the steamed bun that had fallen to the ground. Without hesitation, Eleanor stepped forward, picked up the bun, split it in two, and pressed the halves into the hands of her two younger half-sisters-Charlotte Quinn and Lucy Quinn.

The soldiers had stormed the estate so suddenly that her stepmother and younger sisters hadn't even had the chance to eat breakfast.

Eleanor's voice rang out, clear and unwavering: "Our eldest sister is a celestial being, a bright moon in the sky, untethered by mortal needs. She does not require food. But we are ordinary people, and a person without food is like iron without fire-we cannot endure."

The estate was doomed. The servants would soon be dismissed, and from this moment on, no one would be there to serve them. They would have to fend for themselves. This life of ease was over.

Isabella Yates, standing nearby, was utterly appalled by Eleanor Quinn's actions. "Second sister, you are the daughter of the Chancellor! How could you stoop so low as to snatch food from the servants? If word of this spreads, what will people say about our family?"

Eleanor Quinn turned to face her, her gaze piercing.

She had lived through this before. Isabella Yates had always spoken of propriety, decorum, and the dignity of nobility. She had built an image of herself as a woman of gentleness and grace, untouchable by worldly greed.

But in truth, she had always been willing to reap the benefits of their family's suffering while pretending to be above it all.

Their mother and aunts had failed to see through her act, working tirelessly behind the scenes to pave her way to a higher position, making her the jewel of noble society.

But in this life, Eleanor Quinn would not let history repeat itself.

Not only would she tear away Isabella Yates's mask, but she would ensure their mother, stepmother, and younger sisters survived. She would find a way to save their father and brother. She would reclaim the honor of the Chancellor's Estate.

A slow smile curled Eleanor Quinn's lips as she stepped forward, closing the distance between herself and Isabella Yates.

The smile did not reach her eyes. Instead, a cold, terrifying glint flickered within them. The other women in the courtyard felt an eerie chill run down their spines.

When had the second young lady developed such an overwhelming presence?

Eleanor Quinn halted before Isabella Yates. Then, without warning, she reached out and ruthlessly yanked the pearls and earrings from her sister's hair and ears.

Isabella Yates let out a sharp gasp, wincing as pain seared through her scalp and earlobes. Some strands of her perfectly maintained black hair were pulled free, and the sting of torn skin sent a wave of shock through her.

She stared at Eleanor Quinn, eyes wide with disbelief. "Eleanor Quinn, have you gone mad?"

Eleanor wiped the blood from the earrings with a silk handkerchief, then handed them to her stepmother, Lady Margaret.

"Our dear eldest sister is a divine being," she said smoothly. "She does not need food or drink. And if that is the case, surely these earthly possessions are of no use to her either? Why not let us take care of them instead?"

Her voice was calm, even gentle.

"I am doing this for you and our mother. I'm sure you won't mind... right?"