The scent of polished wood and aged parchment lingered in the corridor to the south wing. My footsteps whispered against the marble floor as I approached the Count's private office.
My golden eyes held a quiet purpose, dimmed only by the weight of the documents pressed firmly to my chest.
After uncovering signs of financial tampering in our records—suspiciously tied to Rael's personal dealings—my responsibilities increased. The late Count's son had hardly acknowledged me before. But now, I was permitted to review ledgers for minor transactions and oversee parts of the estate's business. Perhaps, at last, he saw me as more than just the daughter of the woman his father married.
Today, I wasn't here only to deliver documents—I had come to retrieve some as well. Butler Howard instructed me to collect a set of transaction reports Rael had marked for internal audit.
I paused before the tall oak doors. The two knights standing guard straightened at my approach. One gave a shallow bow, then knocked with a gauntleted fist.
A moment passed.
"Let her in," came a low voice from within.
The knight pushed the door open, and I stepped inside.
Rael sat at his desk, sleeves rolled up, ink stains on his cuffs. His brow was furrowed in concentration. He didn't look up. Ledgers lay open before him, pages fanned like wings. A half-sealed scroll bearing the Laurent crest rested nearby.
I paused, folding my hands in front of me. The warmth of the fire behind Rael's chair brushed against my back. The room smelled of ink, wax, and smoke.
Howard stood beside him, offering me a polite smile. I returned it with a faint nod and stepped forward.
"My lord, these are the documents you requested," I said, bowing as I extended the papers.
"Put them on the table. Wait for the others," Rael replied, still focused on his work.
I obeyed, placing the documents where he indicated before stepping aside. My gaze lingered on him.
He was the perfect heir—dignified, sharp, utterly composed.
He worked like a machine draped in silk—flawless, efficient, elegant. Every movement was intentional; every word, measured. Even the silence seemed to bend to his presence.
He never showed emotion. Not a flicker. As if he'd been born knowing how to suppress it... or perhaps he simply didn't feel. No joy. No anger. No warmth. Just cold precision and a discipline that pressed on the chest like stone.
He didn't form attachments. You could stand beside him for years and still mean nothing to him. And yet, that was what made him so dangerously perfect.
A nobleman not built for love—but for power.
What kind of education shapes a man into this? I wondered.
I stood still, watching him sift through figures with meticulous care.
A soft knock broke the silence minutes later. A knight peeked in and bowed.
"Master Darion and his son have arrived to deliver the seasonal report."
Rael exhaled slowly and stood. Without looking at me, he gestured toward a bundle of documents.
"Take these to the archives. Ensure they're filed correctly."
As I moved to collect them, the doors opened again. Two noblemen entered—Lord Darion, round and balding, followed by his son, Ricardo.
I lowered my gaze as they passed but didn't miss Ricardo's sharp eyes flicking toward me with interest.
"Evelise," he said smoothly, stopping mid-step. "What a surprise to see you here."
I offered a polite nod. "Young Master Ricardo."
He smiled—too quickly, too brightly. I'd seen that look before. Men who believed charm could disguise their intentions.
Rael raised a brow. "State the reason for your visit. Don't waste my time."
"Yes, yes," Master Darion said cheerfully. "We won't take long."
Without another word, I bowed and stepped out.
---
I returned to the private library and began sorting through the stack of documents. Every page was written in neat, precise handwriting. Each figure was recorded, each seal carefully pressed. I scanned the numbers, checking margins and initials. I was starting to see the whole picture.
Minutes passed—maybe twenty—before the creak of the door pulled me from my focus.
I looked up, startled.
Howard usually knocked.
But it wasn't the butler.
Ricardo stood in the doorway. Alone.
"My father and Count Rael are still talking," he said casually, stepping inside uninvited. "I figured I'd stretch my legs. Imagine my surprise at seeing you here... working."
I rose slowly, my hand resting lightly on the desk to steady myself. "I'm just finishing up. If you'll excuse me—"
"You've changed," he interrupted, his gaze drifting over me without subtlety. "No longer the shy girl clinging to your mother's skirts. You carry yourself like a woman now."
I smiled politely, though my golden eyes turned sharp. Cold. "Work does that to people. It forces them to grow."
Ricardo chuckled, stepping closer. "You've got quite a tongue. But you don't have to pretend with me. We're practically family."
"I think not," I said coolly. "We're both just vassals of House Mondego now."
The smile at the corner of his mouth twitched. His charm faltered. He hated being reminded of his low status—especially by someone he considered beneath him.
"I always thought you were wasted in this household," he murmured. "A flower left to wither behind stone walls. But you bloomed, didn't you?"
I tilted my head, still smiling faintly. "Flowers bloom when they're meant to. And when they do, they learn how to keep the bees away."
His smile faded—just for a moment. Then it returned with a colder edge. "Don't play coy. You think I don't know what you're doing?"
I froze, just long enough for my thoughts to race.
Tch... This bastard—he's fast.
The corner of my mouth twitched.
I hadn't expected that.
I once thought he was just another predator in silk—sweet words for young girls, a darker truth when they resisted.
But this?
This was different.
He wasn't just flirting. He was thinking. Calculating. Too fast.
My expression remained unchanged.
"Do enlighten me," I said smoothly.
"You're working your way into Rael's favor, aren't you?" he asked, grinning.
My chest tightened—but my face remained calm. He was probing, testing, trying to catch me off guard.
"I don't know what you're talking about," I replied, voice steady. "You must be mistaken."
Ricardo stepped closer, his voice lowering. "Rael was trained to be the perfect heir. Every move he makes is for House Mondego. He would never let himself be tainted. Not by someone like you."
My jaw clenched, but I kept my tone composed. "Ricardo, I'm not sure where this conversation is going, but I have work to finish."
He cut me off, eyes narrowing.
"Why waste your time on something you can't have? Maybe you should focus on someone who's already right in front of you."
"To whom are you referring?" I asked, though I already knew.
"To me," he said, stepping closer with a sneer.
I let out a soft, mocking laugh. "You? Why waste my time on someone clinging to a sliver of noble blood? You're so far from succession, you're practically irrelevant."
His face darkened. Rage flickered in his eyes.
He advanced.
I didn't flinch.
"This is the Mondego records room," I said calmly, but firmly. "No one is allowed here without permission—especially not someone outside the inner family. The Count wouldn't take kindly to an intruder. No matter who they are."
We stared at each other. The air grew thick with tension.
Ricardo's jaw flexed. His fists clenched at his sides. Then, slowly, he stepped back and gave an exaggerated bow.
"As you wish, my lady," he said mockingly. "I was merely offering kindness. Don't forget—I gave you a chance."
I said nothing. I gathered the remaining documents, my fingers steady despite the fire rising in my chest. I felt his gaze linger, but I didn't look up.
A moment later, the door creaked shut behind him.
I waited until I was alone.
My hands hovered above the stack of papers. My chest rose and fell with slow, even breaths.
He thought his words would discourage me.
They didn't.
They only fueled my resolve.
A perfect heir?
Let's see how long that illusion lasts once I begin unraveling him—piece by piece.
My lips curled into a dangerous smile.