⚠️ Content Warning: Emotional manipulation, parental pressure
The conversation was already in progress when I entered the atrium.
The Duke stood beside my father, tall and impassive, as always. His black cloak fell in perfect lines, his gloved hands folded behind his back. My father, seated at his desk, didn't even look up as I stepped in.
"The emperor won't commit without confirmation of House Valemire's presence," the Duke said, his voice cold and level.
"We'll be there," my father replied smoothly. "My daughter will accompany me."
Wait—what?
I blinked, nearly missing the slight twitch in the Duke's brow as he glanced toward me. Not quite surprise. Just… calculation.
"She'll draw less attention than I would alone," my father added, finally meeting my gaze. "And she's already familiar with most of the imperial court."
The Duke gave a curt nod. "Then we have an understanding."
Without another word, he turned and walked past me, his cloak brushing lightly against my sleeve like a shadow that had almost touched me.
Only when the doors closed behind him did my father finally lean back.
"I need you to attend the Imperial Ball," he said flatly.
"The ball?" My voice came out thinner than I wanted.
"It's not a request," he replied. "You heard the Duke. The contracts are delicate. I need you there."
I hesitated. "Wouldn't it make more sense for Cassian to—?"
"No."
The single word cut through the air.
"Cassian doesn't represent this house. You do. You always have. And one day, you'll take over. If you can't handle a ballroom, how will you handle a court full of liars?"
He made it sound so logical. So simple. Like survival in a place full of wolves was just another lesson I was meant to master.
"Fine," I murmured.
"Wear something that makes you look like you belong," he said as he stood. "And Aria—"
I paused at the door.
"Stay close to the Duke."
My stomach turned. "Why?"
"He'll keep things… orderly."
Right. Because 'orderly' is the first word that comes to mind when I think of Caelan Ravencourt.
The hall outside the atrium felt colder.
I caught a glimpse of him again—the Duke—speaking with one of our stewards. He didn't raise his voice. He didn't need to. The steward bowed, nodded quickly, and vanished.
Caelan turned slightly, eyes flicking toward me.
That look. Sharp. Measuring. Like he could see every secret I'd tried to bury.
I flinched.
He's been married once, I reminded myself. Just once.A quiet union. A scandalous end. His wife left within a week, without so much as a public explanation.
The nobles whispered for weeks. Some said she was mad. Others said she saw something in him—something dark enough to make her run. Whatever the truth, no one ever spoke to the Duke about it.
And he never explained himself.
Cold. War-hardened. A strategist with a brutal reputation. Emotionally distant, almost mechanical.
How was I supposed to "stay close" to a man like that?
Back in my room, I stared into the mirror, trying to picture myself at the center of an imperial ballroom. Laughing. Smiling. Charming nobles and sipping wine like it wasn't poison.
But all I saw was a girl caught between two powerful men—one who expected her to become him, and one who didn't care if she lived or died.
I died once trying to play their games.This time, I wasn't sure if I could win… but I wasn't going to lose the same way twice