Back in Creedom, beneath the tall arches of House Viremont's manor, a young lady draped in a soft lavender gown approached her father's study. The heavy oaken door stood slightly ajar, and the smell of old paper and scented ink wafted out.
She stepped in gracefully and bowed her head.
"Your Grace."
The Duke, her father looked up from a parchment, his sharp, hawk-like eyes narrowing briefly before he gave a curt nod and motioned to the chair before him.
"What can I do for you, Rosella?"
His tone was clipped, formal. Always the Duke before the father.
Rosella sat down, folding her hands neatly on her lap to hide the slight tremble. Her heart thudded, but she kept her chin high. For Albert, she reminded herself.
"If I may, Father, I wish to ask a favor," she said carefully, watching his expression.
He raised one greying brow, quill pausing mid-sentence.
"You know I do not grant favors lightly."
"I know," she said quickly. "But this one… it concerns Baron Albert Espusio."
At the mention of the name, the Duke's pen dropped to the desk. Silence hung in the air like smoke. His expression darkened, jaw tightening.
"Speak wisely, Rosella."
The Duke rose slowly from his chair, his hands clasped behind his back as he walked toward the tall window, staring out at the sun-kissed hills of Creedom.
"So the rumors are true," he said finally, his voice low, restrained. "You've been seeing Albert Espusio."
Rosella swallowed, straightening her spine. "Yes, Father. I have."
The Duke turned sharply, his robe billowing slightly as his gaze bore into hers.
"He is no good," he said flatly. "An ambitious fellow. Too clever for his own good. And worse, he hides it behind that honeyed tongue and mournful eyes." He sneered. "I know his kind. Men who kneel with roses and rise with daggers."
Rosella's lips parted slightly, but she remained silent.
"He will use you, Rosella," he continued, voice rising just a little. "Not because he loves you, but because you carry my name. Your title is a stepping stone to him, nothing more."
"I know him better than that," she said quietly.
"You think you do." He returned to his seat, fixing her with a hard look. "Tell me, if his affections are true, why has he not come to me, like a man should? Why does he linger in shadows, whispering his intentions to my daughter instead of declaring them with honor?"
Rosella's fists tightened in her lap, but she kept her voice steady. "Because he knows you would refuse him without hearing him out."
"And he would be right," the Duke said without hesitation. "There are a hundred noblemen more deserving of you. Albert Espusio is a wolf dressed in silk, and I will not see you thrown to him."
Rosella blinked away the burn behind her eyes and stood.
"Then I'll make you see him for who he truly is. That is my favor, Father. Grant him an audience."
The Duke raised a brow, surprised.
"And if I don't?"
"Then I'll never forgive you," she said softly, "not for protecting me, but for keeping me from choosing my own fate."
There was a long silence… then the Duke exhaled deeply.
"One audience. Nothing more."
***
King Kai paced the length of his marble-tiled throne room, the gold embroidery on his dark robe sweeping behind him like a trailing shadow. His crown sat heavily on his head, not just in weight but in burden. Torches flickered, casting his grim features in uneven light.
His thoughts were loud—too loud.
The parchment from Hivites still sat untouched on the throne's armrest, sealed with their obsidian crest. The message was clear: until the next blood moon, or they would invoke the Old Pact .
He paused, running a hand through his hair.
The alliance had been forged by his grandfather King Alric the Steadfast when Creedom was nearly overrun by the southern Enclave Kingdom. Hivites had intervened, sending swords, men, and coin. The cost: annual gold, food stores, political access, and a royal marriage that never happened .
Now, generations later, he was drowning in that debt.
Even with crippling taxes , grain seizures, and levies on trade routes, Creedom could barely feed its people much less pay the Hivites.
He slammed his fist on the armrest. "Damn that cursed pact!"
A steward standing near the door flinched but said nothing.
King Kai's voice dropped into a whisper as he stared out the tall stained glass windows.