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30 minutes before the explosion in the hall of the Royal museum.

Amidst the crowd that was gathered in the surroundings of the royal museum, a beautiful woman with striking red hair and mesmerizing blue eyes made her way towards the entrance, accompanied by a group of men who seemed to be her guards.

With one glance, anyone could discern her noble lineage. Her regal aura and captivating beauty were undeniable. However, there was something in the way she walked and carried herself that hinted at a different nature—a spirit more akin to that of a strong-willed individual than a traditional noble lady.

As the woman and her entourage approached the entrance of the Royal museum, a vigilant royal guard stepped forward, halting their progress.

"Please stop," the guard called out, raising a hand to signal the woman to pause.

Curiosity danced in the woman's eyes as she arched an eyebrow, glancing at the guard. "Hmmm?" she questioned, her voice laced with a hint of authority.

"The Royal museum is off limits to commoners today. Please visit another day," the guard explained, his tone respectful but firm.

Although the young lady looked very pretty and noble, the royal guard was not aware of her identity. 

And today, a special care was taken to only allow verified individuals inside the royal museum as the prestigious Freljord academy is conducting an event, so the soldier didn't want to risk letting in unknown individuals.

But the woman's response was less than kind, her voice dripping with condescension. "Commoner? Do you have rocks in those huge eyes or what?" she retorted, her impatience palpable.

Unfazed by the soldier's confusion, the woman beckoned one of her trusted middle-aged guards to step forward. "Guard, tell him who I am," she demanded, her head held high in arrogant defiance.

The middle-aged guard, aware of the soldier's ignorance, approached him with an air of authority. 

"Open your eyes and be grateful, for the opportunity to witness our lady," he scolded the young soldier. "This is the only daughter of Marquire Cronabell Ior, the esteemed Lord of Winterlake."

The mention of Marquess Cronabell's name left the soldier dumbfounded, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. "Marquess Cronabell...?" he stammered, his voice barely audible.

In the Mauryan Empire, a complex hierarchy governed the nobility, with various ranks denoting different levels of authority and prestige. At the pinnacle of this hierarchy stood the emperor himself, holding the highest authority within the realm. Directly below the emperor were the esteemed dukes of the Empire, who commanded immense power and influence.

Slightly lower in rank, but still possessing significant authority, were the Marquesses. The title of Marquess placed these individuals just below the dukes in terms of status and responsibilities. Within the Mauryan Empire, the Marquesses held a position of great influence and wielded substantial control over the affairs of the empire.

As vast as the Mauryan Empire was, it comprised a number of nobles across its expanse. In addition to the two dukes, the Empire boasted a total of four Marquesses, three Earls, five Viscounts, and fifteen Barons. 

And Marquess Cronabell, the esteemed Lord of Winterlake, held the distinguished position as one of the four Marquesses within the Mauryan Empire.

Although widely recognized throughout the realm, Marquess Cronabell tended to refrain from actively participating in the affairs of the empire unless specifically required or commanded to do so by the emperor himself. This reserved approach added an air of intrigue to his character, as his involvement was often limited to situations deemed vital by the imperial decree.

Seeing the daughter of such a man whom the soldier had only heard through the rumors, he was taken aback.

Realizing his mistake, the soldier quickly composed himself. "I apologize for not recognizing you, my lady. Please allow me to verify your badge of nobility." Though terrified by the presence of the Marquess's daughter, he knew he had a duty to perform. Carefully, he requested to examine the lady's badge, which she obliged with a disdainful sigh.

"Do you think anyone would be foolish enough to impersonate a high-ranking noble?" scoffed the guard beside her, proudly displaying an emblem engraved with the magic seal of the imperial magicians—an emblem that bore the symbol of an eagle, signifying Ior family.

Impersonating nobility within the Mauryan Empire was considered a grave offense, carrying severe consequences such as death or lifetime imprisonment. Despite the existence of such strict punishments, the soldier stationed at the museum understood the importance of his duty. He knew all too well that the presence of a law alone wouldn't prevent individuals from committing crimes. Therefore, he remained vigilant, ensuring that he upheld the law and maintained security, regardless of the potential consequences.I think you should take a look at

Respectful in his demeanor now that he understood the lady's identity, the soldier took the emblem and verified it using a specialized device. Once satisfied, he handed back the emblem along with a token granting them access to the museum. "Here, thank you for your cooperation, my lady. You may enter the museum with this token," he said, bowing slightly as he offered the tokens.

"Hmp! Such a waste of time."

With a dismissive huff, the noble lady barely spared a glance at the token before striding past the guard, her own guard swiftly retrieving the tokens from the soldier's hand and following closely behind her.

***

"Phew... that was easier than I expected," murmured the red-haired woman as she entered the grand halls of the Royal museum. Her entourage of men trailed behind, surveying the surroundings cautiously.

"I didn't know the royal army would be so lax, Sir Zale," she remarked, addressing the man who posed as her guard.

"It's not that the security was lax; it's that they couldn't detect the spells woven by Sir Vamana," Zale replied, his gaze shifting attentively across the museum.

Glancing at the young lady, Zale couldn't help but notice the stark contrast between her captivating beauty and her mannerisms. Her lack of grace and etiquette seemed incongruent with her appearance, yet her charm remained intact, effectively masking any suspicion.

"Madam Matsya, please maintain some elegance. We need to ensure our cover remains intact," Zale advised, hoping to steer her attention towards their mission.

The rebel army operated under the co-leadership of seven individuals, each designated with a code name to ensure their anonymity. Among them, the woman who had just entered the royal museum was known as Matsya, the fifth leader of the Rebel army. Accompanying her in the guise of a guard was Zale, the commander of the rebel army's sixth unit.

Despite his best efforts, Zale couldn't help but notice Matsya's striking beauty. It wouldn't be surprising if men were to fall head over heels for her at first sight. However, her demeanor starkly contrasted with her appearance. She lacked even the slightest hint of etiquette or grace. Nevertheless, her captivating face seemed to divert attention away from her unconventional behavior, ensuring that no one had yet grown suspicious of their true identities.

Attempting to suppress a smile, Matsya responded with a touch of irritation, "Sir Zale, what do you mean elegance? I'm doing my best, you know." Her annoyance was evident as she cast an annoyed glance at the pink dress she was forced to wear for the operation.

Matsya had a fierce and combative nature, always yearning for battles where she could fight to her heart's content. And she only agreed to head this mission because she thought that there would be some pretty strong individuals in the royal capital who she could fight with.

  However, it was only later that she discovered the true reason why the leader had chosen her was due to her attractive face, which would facilitate their infiltration of the museum.

"I'm already annoyed enough that I have to wear this dress, so don't expect anything more," she grumbled, casting an annoyed glance at the pink attire she was adorned in. Zale, observing her, decided to let the matter rest and focused instead on the task at hand.

"By the way, who did the leader say would assist us in opening the gate?" Matsya inquired of Zale.

"The leader simply mentioned that 'she' would find us, but I have no knowledge of her identity," Zale replied uncertainly.

"Are you serious? We've infiltrated the royal museum in the heart of the capital, and we don't even know who our own spy is? Ahh! I wish I could knock some sense into the leader," Matsya grumbled as she continued to walk with an awkward gait.

However, it didn't take them long to encounter the person who would aid them. Amidst the bustling museum, a silent voice echoed, and a familiar figure came into view.

"Follow me," the voice commanded.

"Is she the spy?" Zale and Matsya pondered simultaneously, their gazes fixed on the young girl donning the uniform of the Freljord Academy and sporting large round glasses as she entered the women's restroom.

---***---