I should have known from the start.

My relationship with Hervouet was doomed from the beginning. I only accepted his proposal out of desperation.

He invited me to the imperial palace a week after my stay at Viscount Evaristo's, but for that entire week, I was never invited to join them for meals. I lacked the courage to initiate conversation, as I felt unwelcome in the house. After all, it's considered poor etiquette for a noble to intrude when not invited.

A week of solitude in my room, even without food, was fine. Izavenes like me don't require sustenance to survive. However, I couldn't shake off the feeling of betrayal. My first visit to the imperial palace had fallen short of my expectations.

He'd promised a meeting with the former empress, but instead, I received a tour of the main areas of his palace, supposedly to familiarize myself. He also outlined my future duties as his wife. But when he ended our conversation with "You must be tired. Let's meet the former empress another time because it's late," the anticlimax was crushing.

If that is how he wants to play with me, then I'll prepare something more that what meets the eye. He will have his time too. He only gave me another reason why I shouldn't trust him.

My hands clenched at my sides as I faced the door to Count Evaristo's study. For the first time, I was invited to have a real conversation with him.

"I'm here, milord," I spoke, and he opened the door as a response.

"Come in and sit," he instructed.

We sat facing each other on a couch, an empty wooden table separating us. The absence of snacks or tea spoke volumes – this conversation wouldn't last long.

“I don’t have a luxury of time, so I’ll be blunt,” Count Evaristo began, his eyes reflecting the sleepless nights he had endured while coping with the tragedy his family had suffered.

"The reason why you're here as my daughter is because you're the only key I have to get my family out of debt. It was all thanks to His Highness' help that he paid for my debts in exchange for adopting you. He didn't tell me much about his reason, but I was desperate."

I shifted my gaze to the window of his study, and on the horizon, black thunderclouds roiled, as if a storm would break out any second.

"I know. I never had high expectations, or expected anything special coming from you. I'm sorry about your loss, Lord Velvedore. I heard your daughter Erinna passed away recently. It must've been hard."

The viscount locked his eyes onto mine, piercing my soul, trying to see if there were any hint of truth in my words. The room had an unnerving silence, making me realize I must've spoken out of line.

"I see you're the kind of person who knows your place and does not claim something as yours easily. Even if you now bear my family's name, you still call me by title, instead of 'father.' You can call me that if you wish, but if you don't, you can call me 'Lord Vel' as most people call me."

It feels strange to call a stranger "father." My true father appeared before I broke free from the Rhinecrest, informing me that I would be adopted by a noble and live as "Roxana."

Deep down, I know that the late king of Eurhyia will always be my true father, no matter what. Besides, was Velvedore ever a good father? Or does he only think he is by spoiling Erinna?

There's so much I still need to learn about this family, particularly the man with those piercing eyes who "greeted" me when I first arrived. His gaze alone was enough to tell me that if I ever did anything reckless, he wouldn't hesitate to end me right then and there. My instincts have never steered me wrong, and this feeling is no different.

“I’d like to take it slow for now, my lord. I’m pleased to be your acquaintance.”

A heavy silence descended, pressing down on me like a suffocating weight. He remained silent, but something felt off. He had said he didn't have the luxury of time and should be dismissing me, yet he kept me here.

"W-Well then, if that's all, I'll be excusing myself," I said, breaking the ice.

“You’re not a random commoner that His Highness is fond of who needs to be a noble to make the marriage valid, aren’t you?”

His question stopped me from walking. “It feels like you’re a noble, but at the same time, you aren’t.” From the side of my eyes, I can see him observing every inch of my actions. What drew him to that conclusion?

“I wasn’t expecting you to be curious milord, but indeed, I’m not.”

"Then who are you? Don't you think it's only proper to give me an idea of why His Highness almost forced me to take you in and offer something I couldn't refuse?"

“His Highness told me not to share everything and I'm unsure how much I should tell. But I’m certain that my answer will lead to more questions. I would say that I once had a title, but decided not to embrace it even if I could.”

Velvedore, sensing my reluctance to continue, broke eye contact and offered, "You may leave if you wish."

Stepping out of that room felt like I could finally breathe some fresh air. But that relief was short-lived, as I saw the man with piercing eyes from before—the very person I was just thinking about before I stepped out of the room.

Such terrible timing. Why does it have to be now? Can't I even get a break from all this toxicity?

"You ... do know who I am, don't you?" His deep, intimidating voice sent a shiver down my spine, but I held my composure, determined not to show any weakness.

“How am I supposed to know? You weren’t introduced to me, so that led me to the conclusion that you’re not an Evaristo. I doubt that His Highness would be reckless to forget your name, assuming you’re a part of the family?”

His eyes remained cold, unable to deny my words. He chuckled in amusement, but it was an unsettling reaction, far from sensible in this situation.

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"You've only been here for a week, yet you already dare to talk to me THAT way?”

Ah, I know. He's someone who wants to be important but isn't. Someone who wants to climb the social ladder, or something similar.

"Respect is gained, and not because someone speaks in a formal manner that includes flatteries means that the respect is there. Such is the world of nobles.” I walked towards him, and he took one step back. “Then let me return the question to you. How dare you talk to me that way, when you’re not even a part of this family?”

He gritted his teeth, eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. "You're only a member of this family by name. You probably feel superior because the second prince supports you, and because you're an Izavene unlike the rest of us, who are mere humans."

This is a waste of time. We will only exchange comebacks about our place in this house. There’s no use arguing with him.

"Whatever," I replied, my arms crossed. "We should just get out of each other's hair so that we won't argue on anything. The moment I first saw you, I already knew that we'd never get along. I don't see the need to know each other. After all, I will only be here for a month."

“Sounds good to me,” I wasn’t expecting him to agree, but people can always make up lies. “In case you’re curious, my name is Aldrich Louvremont. I used to be Erinna's former fiancé and a knight who served this family for eight years."

"I see." It wasn't spoken, but we both knew the conversation was over. I walked past him, catching a glimpse of his glare in my peripheral vision. What a bother. He was no different from a territorial animal. "Roxana Evaristo. His Lordship's adopted daughter."

I almost introduced myself as Thyra Edevane – a name that would have put me in immediate danger. Now that I've formally stepped out of the shadows and into the empire, every action counts, especially when I become an imperial princess or duchess.

Aldrich is nothing compared to the challenges of high society.

"I believe that's all. Well then, have a good day." I walked past him, but I couldn't shake the feeling that his gaze was still upon me.

“You know,” he said, making me stop. “His Lordship will adopt me soon, just like you.”

I knew it. He's just another social climber. He probably pulled some strings to win the viscount's favor, hoping to be a potential son-in-law and now an adopted son.

I looked back and forced a sarcastic smile, just like any other noble lady would. "Is that so? Congratulations then. But don't worry, I won't ask you to treat me like a little sister. I'd be happy to stay out of your sight if you wish, because you're the least of my concerns."

Without letting him say anything else, I took my leave.

As I walked through the hallway, I came across the grand staircase, where a massive family portrait hung on the wall. It depicted the viscount and viscountess, their youngest daughter Riaveric, whom I hadn't met yet, and the beloved protagonist of this house – Erinna Evaristo.

Erinna appeared like a doll in the painting—flawless, giving off an alluring impression. Why would someone like that hang herself?

──•~❉᯽❉~•──

The lock clicked as I closed the door behind me. Meeting an awkward father and a territorial social climber was mentally draining. I could only hope that the viscountess and their daughter Riaveric would be more bearable.

I closed my eyes and thought back to how things had been since I woke up after being sealed in the Rhinecrest. I've been trying hard to keep myself together, but despite feeling shattered inside, staying sane was the hardest thing to do.

It was then that I reached a point where I could no longer depend on anyone but myself. That realization made me want to scream out the pain I'd been silently enduring.

I no longer have a kingdom to return to. If I went back to Eurhyia, Evrart would keep me by his side, and my life would be nothing more than tending to him. My own people despise me, calling me a 'monster' for killing more than half of the people on the battlefield when I first used my Izavene power in public.

I can't fully depend on Raleigh, because staying in Eskal would keep me from achieving my goals. Returning to Marrossi also means revisiting the memories I had in the short time I was here. And while it would be nice if those memories were good, they're nothing but painful.

Just... what am I supposed to do now? Am I not allowed to find a place to live a normal life? Is it too much to ask for a satisfying life? Don't I deserve a little joy to refresh my soul?

I don’t know anymore.

"Thyra," a voice called out, and I scanned the room, searching for the source.

It was a voice I knew all too well. Hearing it call my name brought a wave of relief, but the reality behind it all shattered me even further.

A figure approached me, a man whose eyes held a mixture of sadness and longing.

Am I seeing things? This can’t be real.

"A-Azriel? You're ... here?" None of this felt real. Maybe I had given up on the idea of ever experiencing happiness, but whether my eyes were deceiving me or not, I knew there was only one thing I could do to help myself right now.

Azriel hesitated, almost reluctant to move closer or speak.

I clenched my fists, biting my lip until I finally ran into him, wrapping my arms around him. He returned my embrace, and a sense of security washed over me. In that moment, all the emotions I had been bottling up spilled out as I buried my face in his chest.

There were countless things I wanted to say, but nothing came out. His warmth was enough to melt the ice that had settled around my heart.

“What makes you cry hard like this?” he asked, but I hid my face from him by not pulling away.

It’s because of you, idiot. I wanted to say, but for some reason, I couldn’t.

He gently pulled back, creating a little space between us so he could see my face. He wiped away my tears, but I just looked down and cried even harder.

"Azriel, I beg you, give me a reason to stop loving you. Because the longer I hold this back, the more painful it becomes," I met his gaze, pleading with him. "Have mercy on me. I'm tired of being hurt. I want to be free from these foolish feelings that keep me from living. You were my enemy, the one who killed my father. I wanted to kill you, but I'm the one suffering the consequences because I learned to love you. Do you even understand what that means? You're the source of my happiness, but you're also the reason why I’m suffering!"

I pushed him away, turning my back on him. My heart pounded so hard it felt like it would burst. It was so confusing – I wanted him gone, but at the same time, I wanted him to stay.

Loving him is the reason I'm trapped in the kind of life I despise. But how did he manage to return, when he's not strong enough to wake up on his own?

I turned to observe him, and the longer the silence stretched, the clearer things became.

"You're not real, aren't you? You're not Azriel. Because if you were, I wouldn't go all this trouble for. It's nearly impossible to wake him up, and it doesn't make sense to see Azriel here, all alive and well." I narrowed my eyes as I realized how foolish I acted all this time. "Who are you?"

Blue flames engulfed Azriel's figure, revealing Hervouet as the flames subsided. His expression was stern, a flicker of pity in his eyes that made my blood boil.

"You were vulnerable, and yet you're still sharp enough to figure out what's real and what's not," he acknowledged as if there was a need to say something obvious. "At the end of the day, it's still your head that rules over you, not your heart."

A heavy silence descended, leaving us both drained of energy. We waited, each of us hesitant to break the tense stillness.

“I’m sorry if I impersonated my brother. You can say that at some point, I want to understand your point of view and know you a bit when you are off guard. Though I got caught easily, I still –”

“Why?” I retorted. “Why are you curious about that? I may have decided to make a deal with you, but that doesn’t mean I want us to be friends.”

"Believe it or not, I'm wary of you too. So, I want to know you a little without you knowing," he said, avoiding my eyes and looking away.

Lies. I don’t know his real reasons, but I’m sure that’s not it. There’s no point pressing further.

"You must be satisfied now that you witnessed the side of me that I've been hiding all this time," I laughed at my foolishness and ran my fingers through my hair as I stopped. "I'm sure you're –"

My eyes widened as Hervouet pulled me close, enveloping me in a tight embrace. He held me so tightly, as if afraid to let go.

"I know how much you despise me," he whispered into my ear, "and you hate the fact that I'm almost forcing you to marry me. But if you want to cry, to be honest, let me help you feel less alone." And like a broken faucet, tears started streaming down my face once more.