The Escaran Kingdom’s nobility was broken into two groups: the landholders and Lemora’s politicians. Most of her investors were landholders, the feudal equivalents of dukes, margraves, and barons. They were rich, powerful figures who were like kings in their own territories. Then there were capital city politicians like Telskal who became nobles through political service.

In the event that King Escar turned against Sara, she needed to skull fuck both of these groups with so many scandals that the government collapsed, and her friends—the ones she’d ensure would survive the political rapture—came out on top. In short, she needed a coup in a box, gift-wrapped with love, and topped with a huge sticker that said, “Don’t fuck with me.” Or… perhaps need wasn’t the best word. She wanted to be able to overthrow Escar at a moment’s notice if he turned on her, and Escar gave her the green light to do so. So that’s what she did.

It started in the late winter. By then, Sara had proven that her visions were invaluable and had experienced many hazy dreams that couldn’t be resolved because she didn’t know who she was dreaming about. As a result, King Escar was forced to let her enter Lemora’s political circles just to let her meet the people who she was having dreams about.

It was King Escar’s greatest mistake.

Within mere weeks of Sara being released into the political wild, she spread a virus throughout the nobility. She called it “Sara Sickness” on account of the distinct symptoms the subjects experienced after meeting with her alone: shortness of breath, shaking, stuttering, snapping at her, apologizing for snapping at her, swallowing, pleading, experiencing the five stages of grief, and finally, after failing to negotiate, blank stares of acceptance.

Tonight, as Sara walked through a luxurious mansion wearing a purple Versace wrap dress, drawing stares and whispers as she unveiled Earthian high fashion to Reemada, she was on a mission to infect another noble with Sara Sickness—this time a big fish.

Her target was Tyran Grollis, a famous apothecary who made life-changing medicines. He was prestigious, revered, and a well-known socialite. He stood in a corner speaking to three females, swirling a pink glass of gremina, a naturally carbonated wine made of fermented grema berries from the temperate climates of Yorr. For one griffin a bottle, he could prove he was rich, and he was too eager to prove how rich he was to these women and the others, behavior that raised questions in her last life and hastily spurred his downfall.

“Oh, you didn’t,” a blonde in a cocktail dress giggled as she talked to Tyran.

Tyran flashed her charming smile while subtly glancing at a part of her body she didn’t like (ensuring she’d be a bit self-conscious and more motivated to please). “Oh, I did,” he said. “And I don’t regret it. Unless someone asked me if I did it. Then I’d deny it completely.” He flashed another wide smile.

All three women giggled together.

“You’re going to get in trouble for saying such things,” a brunette said. “It’s indecent.”

“Ah, yes. I’m aware. But you see, parties are the best place to keep secrets. Because no one seems to remember what happened.” He paused for dramatic effect. “Speaking of which, can I get you ladies some more drinks?”

They burst into laughter, and Sara joined in as she walked up. “Hello, Lord Grollis.”

Tyran’s eyes widened in wonder when he noticed her and saw her elegant curtsy. “Well, hell~lo. I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of meeting you before,” he said, flashing a charming smile. The internet didn’t exist in Reemada, so while high nobles like Tyran knew of her existence, they didn’t know what she looked like. So he casually offered his hand as if she were yet another stranger. Sara accepted his hand. He kissed it. She resisted the urge for amputation. “May I know your name?” he asked.

Sara smiled and looked at the women who were looking at her like lions stalking prey. “My name is Lady Sara Reece, undeservingly given the title of Hero.” The women’s faces paled, and their vicious smiles curved upward until they looked like cartoonish caricatures.

“Oh, my,” Tyran said, “forgive me for not recognizing you. It’s a pleasure to finally meet.”

“Likewise. I’ve heard a great many things about your deeds, Tyran. Actually, that’s why I’m here. I’d like to learn elixology. Do you have time for a few private lessons?”

Tyran bit his lip and puffed out his chest. “I’d love to.”

“Wonderful,” Sara said, covering her mouth with her fist while blushing slightly. “Do you have a moment to discuss the details?”

“Of course,” he said, donning a shameless smile. “Please forgive me, ladies. The Hero is the prized jewel of our kingdom. I cannot refuse her summons.”

They smiled and nodded, saying a few It was great to meet yous as they held back their contempt. Sara saw through it and smiled murderously. Their faces paled again.

Tyran led them to a back bedroom. It was his house, and there were no shortages of locked rooms to sleep in. When he shut the door, he took a few fast-paced steps toward her, but she held him back at arm’s length. “What? Have I misunderstood?”

“Ummm… yes,” Sara said nervously, gripping her forearms and pressing her back against the door. Her face twisted in anguish, and she found it difficult to meet his gaze. “In truth, I’m here because I… heard that….”

Tyran froze, his face paling. “No. It couldn’t be that—“

“Yes, it is,” Sara said, cupping her face with her hands and rubbing it, taking deep breaths. “And as the Hero….”

“You can’t…” Tyran said, putting his hand on her shoulder. “We need to give you an exam. How long since your last period?”

Sara was experiencing cramps and hot flashes at present and was in a particularly savage mood, actually. But instead, she said, “Six weeks ago….”

Tyran’s face filled with relief, and his shoulders relaxed. “There’s nothing to worry about, then. We can fix it without even the slightest scar or damage to your uterus. So rest assured, it’ll be fine. Let’s give you an exam. Take off your pants and sit—“

Sara released a crushing wave of mana that dropped him to his knees, making him grab at his neck as he choked, fighting to breathe. Now that he outed himself, she didn’t have to listen to him playing ignorant, and there was no reason to play.

Tyran wheezed, fighting for breath. “What… is….”

“Now that we have that out of the way….” Sara pulled out scrolls of privacy arrays and taped them up on the wall. Once she activated them, she picked up Tyran by the collar and slammed him into the wall.

“Allow me to reintroduce myself,” Sara said. “My name is Sara Reece, and as of this moment, I own you.”

Tyran laughed when she released her pressure, making him cough as he did. “Own me? Who the hell do you think you are? Do you think you’re immune because you’re ‘The Hero? I hold a scandal on every noble in this city. If I—“

Sara grinned. “No, you don’t, Tyran. You have blackmail on unfaithful wives. Their husbands? Heh. By the time I expose all the people you’ve ‘treated’ for infidelity, Baronies will fall, and everyone caught up in the scandal will demand you be drawn and quartered.”

Tyran Grollis ran an operation that helped unfaithful noble wives cheat on their husbands in secret and then conducted abortions for a heavy price. It was far from the worst business in the kingdom. Even though he was helping people cheat, she didn’t have a problem with him as she did with Lena Rebolt’s forced prostitution ring, Ubis Grancole’s black market, or Telskal’s overarching racketeering operations. She had no strong views on abortion either way. Yet he built an empire that ran on blackmail and scandals, and Sara planned to exploit it mercilessly. And, as he said, he had a scandal on hundreds of unfaithful wives, but ultimately, it was a far weaker type of blackmail at the scale she was thinking about. The types of scandals she knew of were in a different league entirely.The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

Tyran shook, blood draining out of his neck and hands. He became sickly, trembling in his arms. “No one will believe you.”

“King Escar believes everything I say,” Sara said. “That’s because I have foresight. It’s real. That’s why I know about all your practices, operations, and secrets. I assure you, Tyran—the moment you refuse me, Tenton Marloff and Rendat Leemer will be banging on your door, demanding your head.”

Blood drained from Tyran’s handsome face, making him look pale and sickly. He took deep breaths, eyes trembling, shaking in place. Sara Sickness. “W-What do you want?”

“I need you to do something for me in secret. Do it correctly, and you’ll get off with just closing down your little ‘business.’ Deny me, and I’ll destroy you. By the time I finish raking you through Tramula by your testicles, you’ll be a discredited eunuch awaiting execution. Do you understand?”

Tyran stared at her, lips quivering, eyes blank and vacant. “I-I’ll do it.”

Sara grinned. “Good. Now, listen carefully because your instructions are simple, but the stakes are… well… permanent.”

At that moment, staring into her tyrannical gaze, Tyran Grollis experienced the five stages of grief before his eyes became vacant, and he nodded in harrowed acceptance. It wouldn’t be long before he had the nerve to try to destroy her. But tomorrow morning, when he got a knock from Tenton Marlov, the head taxation official of the kingdom, informing Tyran that he knew the doctor performed an adulterous abortion on his wife but was only not acting because Sara was preventing him from doing so, Tyran would be a broken puppet forever.

Mary got out of her bed and pulled her panties on. She couldn’t stand to be near Jason after sex these days. He was good in bed (not as good as she hoped, but better than the rest), but the moment the euphoria faded from his expression, his eyes turned vacant, and he went back to feeling sorry for himself. At this point, Jason was a glorified sex toy if she escaped the room fast enough and an emotionally exhausting investment if she wasn’t out before his breathing calmed. She wished she had a cigarette.

“Mary.”

God, she needed a cigarette.

“What?” she asked.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Putting up with me.”

Mary took a deep breath, rolling her eyes. That was the type of shit that abusive boyfriends said after they beat their girl. Thanks for putting up with me. Hah. At the very least, it was cheap. Thanks. Now pity me again. Pathetic. What happened to Jason? She wanted him because he was a man with absolute ambition. Now? Even Daniel was looking better. She considered fucking the budding teenager just to see if taking his virginity would complete his metamorphosis. But she couldn’t. Not because Sara would care. Sara didn’t actually care about anyone but herself. Mary didn’t because there was no future in Daniel. A girl has needs, and Mary had a lot of them. But Daniel seemed like the type of guy who’d ask her to wear an extra pair of underwear and spend time toiling the fields with the serfs to remind her to be humble. He wouldn’t give her shit. So, she continued working on her investment. “You’re welcome,” she said.

Jason chuckled. “You’re not even pretending anymore.”

Mary clasped her lace bra, something that was easier to do than she wanted. She needed a body constitution. “I think part of me hopes you’ll get angry and make me regret it,” she said, pulling on her trousers, which she appreciated were easy to put on. Jeggings took three minutes to pull up and made her ass feel like a half-squeezed balloon. “Do something. You’re better than this.”

Jason rolled onto his side. “What’s the point? Sara has a thirty-year head start. How the hell am I supposed to compete with that?”

Mary rolled her eyes. Jason had come to the conclusion that Sara was a fifty-year-old mage before she returned to the past. How did he get that number? His ego. He honestly believed that someone needed a thirty-year head start to beat him, and Mary found it pathetic. He was talented, but not that talented.

“By getting off your ass and putting in hard work,” Mary answered dryly. “That’s how people win. Or have you forgotten that?”

“There are some things that hard work can’t overcome,” Jason said. “A mentally challenged kid’s never going to be Einstein. That’s genetics.”

“You didn’t have that mindset before.”

“That’s because I have the best genes. But genes don’t tell you the future.”

“This is getting ridiculous.” Mary yanked on her shirt. “Look, Jason. Say you’re right. Say that Sara came from the future and destroyed you to prevent you from achieving your destiny or whatever the fuck you believe.”

“Don’t mock me,” Jason took a deep breath, his body trembling.

“Once she destroyed you, she destroyed the future. A lot of shit happened, and it won’t happen now. She just has an advantage. Stop treating her like a fucking God and get over her already!”

Jason threw off the covers and got out of bed, striding to her as she pulled on a heel. Her heart was pounding in fear and anger and excitement, praying that he’d back off—yearning for him to act on his anger. “I’m over Sara. Do you think that I’d like that whore after what she did to me?”

“I don’t know,” Mary sassed. “The way you’re acting makes me wonder if you actually like it.”

Jason lifted his hand. Her blood boiled. “Do it. Fucking do it, Jason. Prove her right. Prove everyone right!“

Jason picked up a lamp and threw it into a wall with a crash. “Why is everyone testing me?”

“Because you’re The Hero, you fucking idiot. Did you think it was supposed to be easy?”

“No, I’m not the fucking Hero!” He grabbed her by the shirt and pulled her up, causing her heels to drop to the floor.

“Not a good one anyway.” Mary leveled her declaration with a grin. "Now I got to go. So can you...?"

Jason snapped out of his ire-fueled haze and dropped her, eyes flitting in panic. "Mary, you know I wouldn't actually—"

"Fight back? I know." Mary smirked and pulled on her other heels. "That's why I'm going to do it for you."

Jason furrowed his brows, obviously surprised by her switch. “Wait. Against Sara? What are you going to do?”

“I'm going to destroy her, obviously."

“I got that. I want to know how."

Mary turned to him with a malevolent smile. “I’m going to turn her strength against her, just like she did you. Just sit back and watch. Or keep wallowing in your misery. Whatever you do, take a bath. You stink.” With a snort, she adjusted her shirt and walked out the door.

King Escar looked at Mary with a twinge of disgust. She was Lord Newborn’s girlfriend and was near-universally disliked for her abrasive disregard of the kingdom’s practices and customs. It wasn’t so much she disagreed with them but that she opposed everything that Sara did and Sara represented him. She was always sowing distrust, and that’s what she was planning to do today. “What brings you here today, Lady Jansen?”

“I’m here to give you a simple warning,” Mary said. “What you do with it is up to you.”

“I’ll allow it,” he said.

Mary nodded. “While I think that everyone agrees that it was necessary, there’s no denying that Lady Reece pushed Lord Newborn to self-destruction.”

“Get to your point,” he said, looking away and seething. It seems she was a waste of time, after all.

“And she did that using her foresight,” Mary said. “Wouldn’t you agree she’s shrewd and capable?”

King Escar smiled. “I’ve had enough of this. Guards.”

The guards in the audience chamber surrounded her.

“Let’s go,” one said, walking up.

“She can use her foresight to destroy you, King Escar,” Mary yelled as they dragged her out. “So keep a leash on her! Don’t let her act without your permission! She’s getting stronger! You won’t be able to hold onto her long! If you don’t act now, she’ll—“ The door slammed shut.

King Escar sat in silence for a moment after she left, tapping his fingers on the throne’s armrest. Suddenly, he wished that he denied Mary’s audience or killed her. He made it about five minutes before he turned to a guard. “Summon Lady Serok.”

“Yes, My Liege.”

Once Telskal arrived, he recounted what had happened. Once he finished, his trusted advisor looked him dead in the eye:

“I think you should take Lady Jansen’s words seriously, My Liege. Even though I am heavily invested in Lady Reece’s progress, I believe that she has become too powerful, and her behavior has seemed too self-motivated. You should err on the side of caution when dealing with her and strip her of her political power. She’s already learned your officials’ faces. That’s enough.”

King Escar’s expression turned grave. His trusted advisor had already invested over 50,000 griffins for resources for Lady Reece. If Sara’s progress was stifled, or if she was jailed or executed in the future, Telskal would experience a staggering loss. Yet she was faithful and loyal even at the cost of her own wealth and reputation. That was the quality that made her his most trusted advisor. So, if she was indicating there was a problem, it meant that it was serious.

That said, Lady Reece had saved him from crippling scandals and humiliation, as well as helped him to build power. She was an invaluable resource. Yet….

King Escar nodded. “At the very least, I’ll do that.” Telskal was right. Sara had met most of Lemora’s elites. There was no reason to allow her to stay in contact with them now that she could identify them in her dreams. Stripping her of power was the best option, even at the cost of offending her.

And yet… would it be enough? Mary’s warnings were true. Lady Reece was a shrewd individual who used her power for her gain. The night she told him that she’d lose her powers if she was sexually defiled proved that. That night bothered him. Not because he couldn’t sleep with her afterward but because she had the audacity to imply he would. The fact that she would imply he would ever be an adulterer like his wife struck a deep nerve, and he had never quite recovered from it.

Mary’s claim about Lady Reece’s strength was also obvious. She had the power to destroy General Sullsburg within three months of being summoned, and she had never shown her full power. How long would it be before no one would be able to stop her? Could he prevent her from destroying a large portion of his army? It was harrowing, and the fact that she had masterfully hidden the full extent of her magical knowledge and power showed—once again—how cunning she was.

Lastly, and most importantly, eight of Lady Jansen’s words haunted him:

Sara can use her foresight to destroy you.

That was a fact that King Escar knew from the very beginning. Lady Reece couldn’t just rake his reputation through the muck. His greatest secret—the secret he shared with his whore wife—could threaten his entire kingdom’s legitimacy. With his title as king at stake, Sara wasn’t a potential enemy—she was an existential threat. Suppressing her wasn’t enough. His only options were to trust her with his kingdom or execute her, and the latter was something that he didn’t even want to consider.