Duchess Isabella was one of the Fredirin Kingdom's six highest-ranked nobles, all siblings, and children of the current king. Duchess Isabella wasn’t particularly talented in any field, nor was she particularly inept at any field. If one were being generous, she would be average, run of the mill, and if one were being harsh, she was slightly lacking.

However, the Duchess housed a fierce stubborn streak, once she set her mind on something, she would almost never be dissuaded. And while the Duchess didn’t excel in any categories, she also lacked the common flaws that nobility often had. Hubris, arrogance, ignorance, they were lacking in the Duchess.

Her husband, Duke Leo, was the third son of a lowly baron, he had joined the Kingdom’s navy, and in a short two years, had risen to the rank of captain. Despite the fact he was extremely talented, without backing from someone higher up, it was nearly impossible for him to move up in the world. That backing, however, came from the Duchess.

The Duchess, in her mediocrity, had always surrounded herself with those who had what she lacked, skill, talent, knowledge, and power. Perhaps, due to her capable subordinates, or maybe due to her approachable demeanor, the Duchess was considered one of the top contenders for the throne when her father either retired or died.

Her younger sister, Duchess Analise, had made a bold power grab years ago and had overreached badly, her power base was still long from recovering. Duke Zachry, the eldest brother, was a drunkard and twice divorced. He had basically no supporters.

Of the other three dukes, Duke Patrick and Duke Henry were both older than the Duchess, and were both competent, but the strongest contender was Duke Jason, who had both military and civic accomplishments.

Duchess Isabella might have been able to fight her brothers, but she had no real desire to do so, and even if she had, she was hindered in one major way.

For a noble, the Duchess was a horrible parent. To a commoner, she would have been the ideal, both caring for and loving her children, but for one who aimed to reach the peak, her kindness was inexcusable.

Her five children, two girls, and three boys, lacked the ambition, the drive, the cunning, the despicableness, to ever thrive within noble society. In fact, if not for the protection of their parents, it was debatable whether or not they’d even be able to survive.

The competition for the throne was still at least a decade away, and of the current King’s many grandchildren that would play an integral part, many were still children, having not even made their official debut into society.

That said, while the official competition hadn’t begun yet, the unofficial one had. The children would strive to gain accolades for themselves, and at the same time, beat the opposition down. For commoners, bullying would maybe be a fight or placing bugs in another's clothes, but for nobles, that was merely child’s play. Even as early as it was, already one of the King’s grandchildren had died under suspicious circumstances.

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Even now, the children were locked in battle, with winners and losers. In the Pine Estate, the home of Duchess Isabella, one of her children, the fourth youngest, Olivia Pine Fredirin, was recovering in her bedroom. Two days prior, when the seven-year-old was riding on a carriage to school within the capital, the bridge she was crossing had randomly collapsed, sending the carriage, the driver, two guardian knights, three attendants, and the young Olivia, into the late winter river below. One of her knights had suffered a broken neck and died instantly, and one of her attendants along with the driver had both drowned. The rest has suffered from hypothermia while fishing their lady from the ice cold waters.

Having nearly died, the timid, and now severely ill, Olivia had temporarily withdrawn from school and returned to her family’s lands in the Pine Mountains. Bedridden with a fever, the girl had slept for nearly the entire time.

Having woken up just recently, the frail Olivia was now standing in her darkened room staring at a full body length mirror.

The girl wore a simple looking white nightgown, but despite its simplicity, it’s quality was clear. Having slept in it for so long, it was rumbled and damp with sweat, and while it was tailored for her, it now hung somewhat loosely on her haggard frame.

The clothes suited their owner, however. Olivia was pale, her face an unhealthy white, her hair, normally a dark brown that she tied into a braid, was currently a tangled mess. Her arms were thin, merely skin and bones, in fact, this was true of her entire body. But the most striking part of her, was her eyes, two dull gray orbs that stared lifelessly at her reflection.

However, the most peculiar thing happened. As she stared, her gaze became unfocused and her eyes lost the little bit of light they had left, it was as if her life was fading as she stood there. But, that was clearly not the case. The pitter-patter of her heart slowed, but each beat was heavier, more powerful. And with each strong thud, power returned to her body. The limp muscles on her body slowly filled out, hiding the gaunt bones under a layer of lithe and powerful flesh. The blemishes that adorned the skin of any living being slowly faded away, leaving behind a porcelain white, flawless skin. Her features grew sharper, the roundness of youth shifted into the form of an almost elven adult. Whereas before she could have been called cute or adorable, now she was a flawless beauty. Her hair gained an almost imperceptible shimmer, even as its hue darkened, it was no longer brown, but a black as dark as midnight.

As her physical transformation finally started to come to a stop, the last change was her eyes. The dull gray turned into a silver so pure it was almost white. For a moment, the girl stood there, still staring, but unmoving.

Suddenly, the lifeless aura surrounding her changed, a palpable aura of malevolence and power flooded out from her. Her features, formerly ones of exquisite beauty, were now warped by hatred and anger. Her hair billowed out behind her, despite the lack of wind. Her eyes, once silver, were now red on black, the pupils a blazing slit down the center. The power emitted by the young girl was palpable, the curtains around her bed blew around, the paintings and tapestries on the walls shook, even the glass windows began to crack.

With a rage-filled howl, the girl’s fist shot out and punched through the mirror. Shattered glass was scattered around the room, shards lacerated her outstretched arm, dark red blood dripped from her wound, staining both the fur rug and her nightgown.

The girl raised her head to look at the ruined mirror, and like it had never happened, the sinister atmosphere was gone, her eyes were back to normal, her evil appearance was missing, only the beauty was left behind. Even the room, was still and quiet. She retracted her arm from the mirror, the muscles twitched and convulsed, the few shards of glass that were embedded in her arm were squeezed out, falling to the floor, but even as they landed, the cuts and gashes had sealed themselves up, even the scars had faded. The blood was the only evidence of her injury, but even that began to smoke, within moments, only an acrid smell was left behind, the blood was gone. The girl’s hand went to her neck as if to grab an amulet or necklace, but there was nothing there and realizing this, the girl’s arms dropped back down to her sides.

Without another word, the girl returned to the bed and fell asleep.