Sleep never came easily after her rebirth. So she grabbed a book and sat in the armchair.
She let out a quiet breath and closed the book. Before she could return it to the table, a measured knock echoed through the room. A brief pause followed three slow taps and then a fourth, lighter knock. It wasn't the impatient rhythm of a servant delivering food or the sharp rap of one of the guards stationed outside her chambers.
"Come in," she said.
The door opened just wide enough for the elderly house steward to slip inside before closing it behind him. He lowered his voice immediately, glancing toward the hallway as though afraid someone might overhear.
"Miss, there's a gentleman asking to see you."
Kira frowned. "At this hour?"
"He insists the matter cannot wait."
"Who is he?"
The steward shook his head. "He refused to give his name."
That answer alone was enough to put her on guard. Very few people would risk visiting the disgraced eldest daughter of House Solis in the middle of the night, and fewer still would refuse to identify themselves.
"Bring him."
The steward bowed and quietly withdrew. A moment later he returned with an elderly man dressed in plain grey robes. There was nothing remarkable about his appearance at first glance, yet Kira's attention was immediately drawn to his hands. They were clean despite the late hour, the nails neatly trimmed, and the thick calluses along his fingers were the kind earned from decades of holding surgical instruments rather than a sword or pen. The faint scent of medicinal herbs lingered around him even after the door closed.
A physician.
The old man bowed respectfully. "Lady Kira."
"I don't believe we've met."
"We haven't," he replied with a weary smile. "My name is Doctor Elias. I serve as the chief physician at Blackstone Prison."
Kira's eyes narrowed ever so slightly.
"So my letter reached you."
"It did."
Without another word, Doctor Elias reached into the sleeve of his robe and placed a familiar velvet pouch onto the writing desk between them. Kira recognized it immediately. It was the same pouch of gold she had sent that morning, untouched and still tied with the same cord.
"You've come to return it."
"I have."
"I was under the impression prison physicians were poorly paid."
"We are."
"Then why refuse a donation?"
The old physician looked at the pouch for a moment before gently sliding it back toward her.
"Because I didn't earn it."
Kira remained silent, allowing him to continue.
"When your steward arrived this morning, I had already examined the prisoner. Your letter encouraged me to be thorough, but it wasn't the reason I agreed to conduct the examination."
A flicker of surprise crossed Kira's face before she concealed it.
"What do you mean?"
The physician met her eyes calmly.
"Someone else requested Rowan's treatment before your message ever reached me."
For the first time since her return to the past, Kira found herself genuinely caught off guard.
She had assumed she was the first person to move.
She had believed she was buying Rowan the precious time he needed to survive.
Instead, she had discovered someone else had already reached the board before her.
"Who?" she asked quietly.
"I don't know."
"They gave you no name?"
"No."
"No family seal?"
"None."
"A messenger, then?"
Doctor Elias slowly shook his head.
"I never met the person responsible. When I arrived at my office yesterday morning, there was a sealed pouch waiting on my desk with enough money to cover the prisoner's treatment and a short set of instructions asking me to examine him personally before signing the execution warrant."
Kira studied the old man's face with practiced attention, searching for the smallest hesitation or inconsistency. She found none.
He believed every word he was saying.
"So Rowan was examined because someone else asked you to."
"Yes."
"And my letter?"
A faint smile touched the physician's lips.
"It simply reassured me that I had made the correct decision."
Kira slowly leaned back in her chair.
Another invisible player.
Another person trying to keep Rowan alive.
Why?
If Rowan truly remembered nothing, protecting him served no purpose. Unless someone believed his memories would return... or they needed him alive for reasons that had nothing to do with the scandal at House Solis.
The physician cleared his throat, interrupting her thoughts.
"There is one more reason I came tonight."
Kira looked up.
"The gentleman who arranged the prisoner's treatment left one final instruction. If another benefactor appeared, I was to return their money."
He reached into the inner pocket of his robe and carefully withdrew something wrapped in linen before placing it on the desk.
It wasn't a letter.
Nor was it a seal.
It was a single flower.
Its petals were so dark they appeared almost black beneath the candlelight.
Kira stared at it in silence as Doctor Elias spoke once more.
"I was asked to repeat these words exactly as they were given to me."
He paused briefly before reciting them.
"'Wildflower always repays kindness.'"
For several long moments, neither of them spoke.
The physician bowed deeply.
"My duty ends there, Lady Kira."
He turned toward the door.
"Wait."
Doctor Elias stopped.
"Did you ever see the person who left the flower?"
"No."
"The voice? Their age? Anything?"
The old man smiled apologetically.
"I wish I could tell you more, but the flower and the instructions were already waiting inside my office when I arrived yesterday morning. Whoever left them entered and departed without being seen."
He inclined his head one last time before quietly leaving the room.
The soft click of the closing door echoed through the silence.
Kira remained where she was, her gaze fixed on the black flower resting atop the desk. Slowly, she reached out and lifted it into her hand. The petals were cool against her fingertips, fresh enough that dew still clung to their edges. It hadn't been preserved or dyed. Someone had cut it only hours earlier.
Her eyes drifted toward the polished black seed lying beside the candle.
The same symbol.
The same name.
And yet she still couldn't answer the simplest question of all.
Who—or what—was Wildflower?
Because with every passing day, one truth became harder to deny.
Whatever Wildflower truly was, it had existed long before she ever believed she had created it.