Rebirth Into My Second Chance

Stepping off the plane, we made a beeline for the royal banquet. Max's jet had landed directly on the palace's private airstrip, complete with a personal attendant laying out the stairs for us. Leading the way, Max turned back to hold my hand as we descended. Right at the foot of the stairs, a quaint carriage awaited us.

"Once we're inside the banquet hall, try to speak as little as possible. We have to make sure they don't find out you're not a real aristocrat. This society holds women in high esteem, especially those of noble birth. Your attire and this carriage are symbols of your status." As Max spoke, I couldn't help but frown slightly, considering my humble beginnings and how far I was from any notion of nobility.

Max guided me into the carriage.

Just then, my veil and pearl necklace slipped off. Max gently helped me readjust my veil and made sure the necklace was comfortably in place around my neck.

"You are the daughter of Clayton Floyd and Lenore, born to nobility," he whispered, planting a soft kiss on my forehead.

He then took out a handkerchief to dab away a speck of dust from my foot, muttering, "You shouldn't have to walk."

His doting gaze left me momentarily speechless, a feeling akin to striking gold.

Our carriage proceeded through the main entrance, with Helen, dressed in a traditional Bravenland servant's outfit, by my side, whispering, "Claire, you look stunning today. Mr. Hilton can't take his eyes off you for a second." A wide smile spread under my veil.

"Try to laugh softly, like a true lady," Helen teased. I nodded in agreement, realizing for the first time that those around me, aside from wanting me gone, were slowly changing for the better, drawing closer.

Glancing back at Max, I noticed a few knight-like figures bowing to him before leading him through a different passage. His treatment seemed even more preferential than mine.

"Is Max really just a child of the Hilton family?" I murmured quietly, too softly for Helen to catch. Upon reaching the banquet hall, she presented our invitation to the guards, who promptly saluted and

allowed our carriage to pass.

"My lady, there's a carpet here; you may walk on your own," said one of the attendants.

Helen flashed me a cunning smile, offering her hand to help me onto the lush red carpet. "What identity has Max crafted for me?" I inquired.

"He presented a proof of assets, claiming you're a hidden tycoon," she replied.

I couldn't help but give a wry smile; it was just so typical of Max to wave his hand and make money appear as if by magic.

The event was a charity auction, traditionally exclusive to the wealthy.

Adorned with jewelry weighing at least ten pounds, I thought I was well-prepared, only to find others more extravagantly decked out, some wearing two rings on a single finger and necklaces piled high around their throats.

"The wealth disparity in this country is staggering. I've read about their citizens resorting to eating dirt out of hunger," I remarked.

Helen nodded in agreement. "It's

safer if we don't get involved. Right

now, our priority is to find your

sister. While you're worried about

her safety, consider your own as well."

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Scanning the room, I said, "Given my sister's status, she's likely to make a grand entrance. Let's first look for any potential assassins." Helen pointed towards several high points, "Snipers could be positioned up there."

Turning to her, I realized that anyone in Max's circle must be highly trained, almost assassin-like, to identify sniper positions at a glance.

Perhaps I knew too little about Max, or maybe I had been too focused on my own survival to pay attention to those around me.