"What did I tell you?" Master Arceo pointed a finger at his sobbing daughter in the hall of Arceo House. "I told you to behave at Rashet Manor! That place isn't a playground for your cheap schemes. People will see right through you!"
"But Father, Mariya is just a concubine's daughter. People will simply—"
"Shut up!" He cut her off, shouting. "It doesn't matter what that girl's background is. The Rashet Clan has always favored talent over bloodline. What do you think those contests were for? Why do you think that Nox girl is able to enter the main family?"
He turned to his wife.
"Go! Lock her up in the annex building. Your daughter has ruined everything!"
He didn't know how to explain this to Elder Chem: that her daughter failed to secure the marchioness position. He truly wanted to beat up anyone right now!
Meawhile, Elder Chem had already learned about the news. He had been sleeping since lunch time and when he rose from his bed, his assistant came in and reported.
He merely scoffed, half-amused.
He had already anticipated that this Arceo daughter would cause trouble. She was a sycophant and terribly impulsive. But she was useful distraction.
"Miss Ochia has been chosen," the assistant said.
Elder Chem nodded, as if he had anticipated this as well. "Tell her to be careful at the main house. And she should stop sending letters. For now."
...
NYASIA WAS SIPPING TEA in her courtyard when Fay approached.
"My lady, the young master is here."
Nyasia said nothing, just lifted her eyes and watched as Levon walked toward her. He was frowning, as if annoyed by something.
"Are grooms supposed to be in foul moods days before their wedding?" she asked with a teasing smile.
"Always unless they care," he said, sitting beside her. "Are you aware the Third Prince sent you a gift?"
"Gift?" She frowned. "For what?"
He laughed, derisive. "What else?"
"Father didn't mention this."
"He never mentions things he doesn't like, Sia." Levon sniffed sharply. When she opened her mouth again, he cut her off. "Just a few silk dresses. He's getting bolder. Just like that man."
Nyasia caught the word man. She knew he meant Dorian. But she ignored it. Instead, she smiled and said, "I truly thought he had a greater connection to Maryan than to me."
"You think this is about romance, Sia? Even if he likes that scheming girl, he'll obviously choose wisely when it comes to marriage—" He stopped when she burst out with a chuckle.
"We're overthinking this," she said, still with a gleeful smile. "Perhaps the Third Prince is simply sending a gift to compensate for the Second Princess's mess at the Rashet banquet."
Somehow, Levon shook his head. She was obviously downplaying this. He looked away. "I've just learned that Dorian has come here several times."
He had placed signals along the secret tunnels. Warnings if someone passed through. And they had been triggered. Dorian had.
But this was the only thing he could do. If he caught Dorian openly, it would cause a massive scandal. Dorian knew that. He was confident Levon wouldn't risk ruining Nyasia's reputation.
And if his father found out, he would ask how Dorian had learned of those passages in the first place.
Not that it mattered. Dorian was a sword grandmaster and an expert in intelligence. He had probaly found a way to counter the Rashets.
"Rarely, Brother."
He turned to her sharply.
"He proposed to you?"
'Oh, proposing is just his strange habits," she said unseriously.
"You—" He stopped. "Don't you realize Father is worried? And what if someone learns about his visits? Maryan almost caught you before."
"Hmm." She nodded, sipping her tea.
"The emperor hasn't given up Dorian becoming the princess's husband. I'd wager they're pressuring him to marry the Second Princess," Levon said. "I'm telling you—marrying him won't ever be peaceful."
Nyasia paused, the rim of her cup hovering at her lower lip. She remembered him saying then: "My duchess should be healthy enough to see the end of this. But I tell you—the future won't taste as bitter as you clearly imagine."
Prove it, Dorian.
Prove it won't be bitter.
...
BERN HAD ALWAYS KNOWN the duke wanted the Ubian lands back. To the Varyns, Ubian was crucial—vital to the duchy's survival and security. And the imperial family had insulted that old agreement, looking down on it as if it meant nothing.
He glanced at the duke. Those dark eyes and dark hair looked almost ominous against the moonlight streaming through the glass pane. Dorian sat on the balcony, silent, as usual.
"You know why I chose the Kissells?" the duke finally spoke. A thin line of smoke rose from his lips. His long fingers held a cigar.
"It was to show the nobles that the emperor is willing to destroy a loyal ally—the Finance Minister—just to leash the Varyns," he continued. "If it happens a second time to another family, the nobles will see how desperate he truly is. And desperation is weakness."
He brought the cigar to his lips again and took a slow drag. His gaze was unreadable. He crossed his legs and simply looked out into the night.
But beneath that calm was a real, terrifying anger. And Bern knew why.
The First Prince had just sent a letter.
The Varyn Duchy will have what it's owed. I respect a man who knows what he wants—and who he wants. My only request: stay away from Rashet Manor.