The evening reception was in full swing. I stood idly, dressed in an attire that befitted my status and the grandeur of the occasion. My gown was made of the finest silk, with delicate embroidery and intricate beadwork that sparkled even under the starlight of the moonless night. The deep shade of Amethyst was a choice of tradition but also a method of identifying persons of interest in a crowd. Traditionally, only powerful members of the family wore any shade of purple, to evoke the image of emperors from bygone ages. With no ruling head, a person wearing purple can be interpreted as a subtle challenge to one's play for the seat of power.

And just as I had hoped, many eyes were on me as I gracefully descended into the garden. Some held expressions of awe and intrigue, and others ignored me, but I was looking for more unique reactions. My eye glanced at one of them, who gave me a nasty side-eye before she continued to smoke from her wooden pipe.

"Mary Caracalla Justina." The words of my informant rang in my head.

"The eldest cousin, daughter of my aunt Elisa." I recounted. She is a reclusive but effective businesswoman. A big part of why our wealth remained untouched after the devastating arson attack was in part due to her rigorous efforts to diversify our assets overseas. However, there are rumors that these assets are being invested in the black market and illicit substance trading, which has put the family under much scrutiny by many international organizations. Rumor has it that her relatively emaciated appearance came as a result of her own indulgence in such substances. The pure revenue Mary brought to the family barely outweighs the legal woes it has brought the family, and makes her a strong contender for the leading position in the family.

As I scanned the room, my eyes landed on a noble who was currently chatting up a woman who seemed to have little interest in him. I noticed his faint glance in my direction before he continued his advances on his lady friend.

"Isaac Lucius Justinian."

He is far from the effective and productive entrepreneur his sister was, but he makes up for it with pure physical prowess. Having participated in international fighting competitions, Isaac revived a fascination with noble sports. His ventures into physical activities have helped cultivate a white-washed and lofty view of nobility through the practice of sport. Despite being depicted as clever, charismatic, and lovable by the media, Isaac was incredibly stupid. He has been dragged through the mud many times before falling for paltry scams, gambling his money away, and embezzling it on numerous mistresses who did not even want him. His power lay purely in his public image, which wasn't difficult to destroy given he actively sabotages it all the time. Yet despite all his scandals, he still stands and charismatic morons have found themselves in places of power, so Isaac should not be underestimated.

I glanced at another one, who stood at the center of a group of noblewomen, exuding a sense of divine air that was hard to miss, in a flowing unstained white dress with a simple silver pendant around her neck. Her congregation of noblewomen hung on her every word as she spoke about the virtues of humility and compassion. Despite the noise and bustle of the party, it seemed as though a hush fell over the room whenever Sabine spoke. It was hard to deny the effect that her presence had on those around her.

"Sabine Agrippa Justina."

The traditional Vestal of the family. She was referred to as the purifying light of the Justinians, a moral beacon in a fog of corruption and hedonism. Her sermons dedicated to the old ancestral gods of the family and her gestures of friendship towards the Church of Orius have made her a saint among the populace. With her incredibly involved approach to helping the marginalized and her naturally divine appearance, many claimed her to be a Goddess Incarnate, whose purity would wash away the filth of poverty and suffering from Sternan. Naturally, those claims are hysterical enough to be rationally dismissed yet powerful enough to make her a strong contender for the seat of the family head.

Three pioneers. Three family members with a stronger footing than mine. To surpass them, I would need to be able to effectively use everything in my arsenal. I would need to prove myself to be enterprising enough to preserve the wealth our family proudly flaunted, be charismatic enough to be loved not only by my family members but the common people outside of our social circles, and lastly, prove myself pure enough to represent the higher and sought-after ideals of nobility. Each would need its own careful execution, and I would also need to dispose of them sooner or later once I completely supplant them from their positions.

"So, these are all of the people you could gather information on?" I asked, slipping the files back into the folder.

"The ones you need to watch out for, anyway. Everyone obviously wants a piece of what you're trying to get, and new rivals will emerge from the shadows to make a play if they think the winds are blowing right." My informant shrugged before taking a gulp of his glass of dry stout. "When that time comes, I'll make sure to give you the file on any new rivals."

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I raised an eyebrow. The offer was generous, too generous in fact. He was willingly giving me these files with no sense of urgency or secrecy. There had to be some sort of catch to this, or strings attached. I slid the envelope to him, only for him to stop it in its tracks.

"Keep it, I don't have any use for it now."

"And how am I supposed to know if I have any use for it?" I countered. He looked uncomfortable at the insinuation.

"Trust me, it's good and reliable information, and completely free."

"You know that's exactly why I'm suspicious of it. What's your play here?" I narrowed my eyes at the informant.

"I have a personal stake in this, is all. I will reap my rewards from this soon, there aren't any strings attached to this."

"And how am I truly sure there is?"

"Just take me at my word. You verified it yourself, didn't you? It's none of my business if you don't believe me." He shrugged, removing his hand from the envelope and returning to eating his noodles. I stared at him, perplexed by his behavior. Regardless, I took him at his word and accepted the envelope, tucking it in my coat pocket, leaving as the street grew denser with countless people slowly pouring out of their workplaces.

There was something about that informant that I could scarcely understand, even as someone trained in espionage. When he had first approached me, I expected it to be an obvious attempt to swindle me, but the information had turned out to be of verifiably high quality, too high quality for the kind of informant I assumed him to be. Further background checks did not yield anything that might explain this discrepancy.

But I could not afford to let those details distract me. My mission was to focus on taking over my family, whatever the informant was hiding could wait until then. I glanced aside to see the ritual fire burning atop the towering cathedral of Orius, the flickering flame bringing back memories of that destructive blaze.

I could scarcely remember anything from that night. My mind becomes a blur whenever I try and remember the details. The only thing I could vividly picture was the man who destroyed everything. Not his figure, or his face, but his eyes, his impassioned, hate-filled eyes stared deep into me before he disappeared into the fire.

The eyes of that informant were dull and lifeless but I was sure they were the same ones that glared at me hatefully that fateful night.

"Elara?"

I had been snapped out of my own thoughts, and a voice brought me back from reality. I was staring into space at the reception with a whiskey glass in hand. I turn towards whoever called me, seeing an older man staring down at me kindly. I had been so caught up assessing my rivals that I had forgotten who had been in charge.

"Lord Gillian Aurelian Justinian."

When my family was still alive, he was mostly unremarkable and overshadowed by his older siblings. He was off finishing his studies when the blaze consumed everything. He stepped into my grandfather's shoes and did his best to rebuild everything, preserving the wealth and prestige of the family through masterful manipulation of our assets with his niece Mary. Though initially ignored, he turned out to be a man of charisma and integrity, a beacon that the family could rally behind after the arson attack put them in disarray.

He was still relatively young and healthy, so one may wonder why the position of family head was even a topic of debate. Lord Gillian lacked ambition of all things, and only ever sought to preserve the family out of obligation rather than any desire to hold power. My mother described him as sweet and simplistic, and I suppose that part of him had not changed after all these years. Still, strange for him to approach me of all people, especially considering many who visited had been seeking an audience with him.

"Yes, Lord Gillian?" I asked, bowing out of courtesy, though he immediately chided my show of respect.

"None of that, Elara, we are family, remember? You are the sole blood and flesh of my eldest sibling, if anything I must show you that courtesy."

"You flatter me, uncle. I am attending this reception with nothing to my name, surely I cannot demand such things from the current head of the family!"

"Ah, it is merely a responsibility I assumed by default. Had your mother or any other of our siblings survived, I would have gladly thrown this burden onto them!" He laughed heartily. "Now, onto important matters, are you enjoying the party?"

"Quite, the food and beverages have been nothing but exquisite," I said, raising a glass. "Certainly better than what I was accustomed to at the convent."

"Yes, quite. I wanted to ensure that all our family members from across the globe feel welcome, of course. Reuniting after that tragic night was not going to be easy, and all those years apart certainly have cultivated our differences, but at the end of the day, but we are united as the noble children of the Winter Nymph." He cheered, raising a glass.

"Ah yes, of course, glory to the Nymph of Winter and all her children. I certainly feel welcome, uncle." I smiled.

"Good, I will ensure your stay here is safe and secure. It is the least I can do for my beloved late sister." Uncle Gillian bowed his head and quietly uttered his respects. "Now I must go and entertain the other guests, but do call me if you need anything!"

I curtsied to him as he left. I returned to my seat and examined the crystalline statues that were placed around the garden. They were all devoted to our family ancestress, the Winter Nymph... So much weight behind that title. To the family, it was a sign of pride and proof of their noble heritage, but I only saw horror. Every prestigious name had its skeletons in the closet, and the children of the Winter Nymph were no different. My mother knew this and imparted this forbidden knowledge to me. Thinking about the complex and terrible history of the family and what it had done with its limitless power during its prime, it was no wonder so many desired our demise.

It was only a matter of time until one succeeded.