The SSS-rank Guide Doesn't Need Saving

The moment the door clicked shut, Daisy’s strength vanished.

Her legs gave away instantly.

As she collapsed, her hand flailed out, barely catching the back of a nearby mahogany chair to break her fall. Thud! Her knees slammed into the thick carpet. A sharp, stinging pain radiated through her layered skirts, but she could only sit frozen on the floor, panting heavily to calm her racing heart.

They had lied to Miss Aisha...

An hour ago, after seeing that Aisha had fallen back into a deep sleep, Daisy had to hardened her resolve for a long time before gathering the courage to wake her up again. At that time, she was merely anxious that they would miss the scheduled hour for the ceremony. Letting Aisha sleep a little longer was only her way of making sure she got enough rest.

Moreover, ever since that horrifying incident where Miss Aisha attempted to end her own life, her body had been incredibly frail. There was no way Daisy could deny Aisha’s request for more sleep.

At least... that was what Daisy had desperately forced herself to believe.

The fear climbed up Daisy’s spine as time continued to flow.

At that moment, she could barely even think as she confirmed that Miss Aisha... was not breathing.

Even now, just recalling that scene made Daisy’s hands tremble uncontrollably. In her memory, she had anxiously extended two trembling fingers beneath her mistress’s nose. There was no breath. Panicking, she pressed her entire palm flat against Aisha’s chest, desperately praying for a heartbeat, or even a slight tremor.

But there was nothing.

For a full minute, she tried to deceive herself, murmuring that the Young Miss was merely holding her breath as a strange habit. But minutes ticked away. Aisha remained completely motionless, looking exactly like a corpse—

The sudden sound of water echoing from the bathroom broke the silence. Daisy flinched as her face drained of color. She slammed both hands over her mouth, suppressing the turmoil within her, and held them there until her ragged breathing finally stabilized.

She could never tell her! She would rather die than let Miss Aisha discover how close she had truly come to dying. How still her body had been just now.

It was the same reason why she had ruthlessly cut Zenick off earlier before he could say a single word!

”Luckily, the Young Miss didn’t notice...” Daisy muttered under her breath, her voice laced with lingering dread.

What Daisy had forgotten was that she wasn’t completely alone in the room.

Perched on the edge of the mahogany nightstand—having been awakened by the previous commotion— was the tiny spiritual beast.

Nibbles sat as rigid as a statue. Its antennae were frozen in the air as its bead-like eyes locked onto the maid below.

After a long moment, it slowly turned its gaze toward the closed bathroom door, its expression unreadable.

”...”

***

By the time Aisha stepped out of the bath, wrapped in a luxurious robe with damp hair cascading down her back, Daisy had already splashed freezing water on her face to forcefully suppress her panic. Work was the best medicine to steady one’s mind.

Forcing her worries deep down, she moved swiftly and flawlessly. This was no time to think about negative things. What she needed to focus on right now was making Aisha the center of attraction at the ceremony.

Soon, Aisha seated herself before the vanity mirror, allowing her maid’s clever hands to take over. Rouge was applied, colors blended, and intricate gold hairpins were threaded through her dark hair, gleaming brilliantly every time she shifted her head.

Aisha stared at her reflection, her gaze somewhat hollow.

She knew that Aisha Novalis had been blessed with a beauty far surpassing most women in the empire. When she first woke up in this body, she had noticed it too. But at that time, her mind was a chaotic mess, overwhelmed by the thought of: Where am I? Who am I? Why am I in this body?

She recalled spending the first three days in a daze and trying to go back to her own world. When that failed, she tried convincing herself she would return to her old world if only she waited long enough for a God to realize their mistake.

And in the chaotic days that had passed, she had no leisure to truly appreciate this face. Not until today.

Now looking at her own face in the mirror, she couldn’t help but nod in approval. Truly, a femme fatale. Sadly, Aisha Novalis didn’t know her own worth and did some things that she will try to fix in the future.

When they were done preparing, Daisy carefully tucked a stray lock of hair behind Aisha’s ear.

”The Prince will surely regret this the moment his eyes fall upon you today,” Daisy declared proudly, stepping back to admire her.

Aisha’s lips curled into a faint, mocking smile. ”I wonder if a man like him is capable of feeling regret so easily.”

Prince Soren was an ambitious man. He had publicly and ruthlessly severed their engagement solely to pave his path to the throne. A man possessed by such heavy ambition would never waste a shred of feeling on a discarded chess piece that couldn’t bring him any advantage against his siblings.

When the hour arrived, Aisha walked gracefully beside Daisy down the corridor.

At the end of the hall, below the grand marble staircase, Zenick was already waiting in formal attire. He tapped his foot against the floor, his expression heavy, not even registering their presence.

Halfway down the corridor, Aisha’s footsteps slowed.

”The other night, when I picked the color for my dress... why were you so excited?” She cast a sidelong glance at her maid. ”You even laughed.”

Daisy blinked. Then, a smile broke through her solemn facade as the heavy tension in her shoulders finally dissolved.

”Do you really not know Miss Aisha?” Daisy asked playfully as they stepped onto the lower landing, assuming Aisha was pretending not to know. ”Wearing a red dress to a ball—especially to an annulment ceremony—signifies that you are cutting off the past and welcoming a new love!”

Aisha’s footsteps stopped dead on the final stair.

She slowly turned to look at her maid.

”...What?”