I remember it like it was yesterday—the heartbreak etched upon my father's face when he announced the news.
"Sir Vane has struck again," he'd said, his voice hollow. "He attacked our warehouse and burned everything to the ground. We have nothing left."
That was the first time I had ever seen my father cry. Ever since I was a child, I have always envisioned myself becoming a great merchant, just like him.
I excelled in my studies, proving I was more than capable of carrying on my parents' legacy. My father's main trade was magic stones, shipped from the county and distributed throughout the other baronies.
Every night, I would be the last one in the counting room, staring at the ledgers. The numbers bled red. Shipments were being destroyed, and people were slowly losing faith in the Monteli business. I couldn't blame them.
Sir Vane had made it his life's purpose to ensure my father never saw success again, all because he had refused to allow me to marry the man.
