As the carriage emerged from the winding, labyrinthine alleys like the fresh leaves in spring, it’s destination came in view as soon as it arrived, getting portrayed right before it.

Bastian stepped out, drenched in grace, and surveyed the unfamiliar and strange street with a critical eye, taking in the sights and sounds of the bustling thoroughfare. On either side of the narrow road, where a single wagon would struggle to pass, shops were crowded like bees around honey, together in a riot of color and noise. Mostly taverns, gambling dens, and theaters with posters that would make a sailor blush. It was a landscape that existed solely for the seekers of pleasure.

“What’s taking you so long, Bastian? Let’s go!” Lucas von Ewald’s flushed with excitement as he clapped his friend on the shoulder. He was privileged to be the only son of Count Ewald, the powerful president of the Senate.

Bastian couldn’t help but smile at the infectious enthusiasm of his companion, who had been his closest ally during their time at the military academy. With a slight upward curl of his lips, his cool, collected facade melted away, replaced by a sense of adventure and a thirst for the unknown mystery the strange streets were hiding in their hearth. Together, they stepped forward into the unknown, ready to lose themselves in the hedonistic delights that lay before them.

Bastian followed the group like a kitten following its mother hen, led by Lucas like an alpha, as they made their way to the gambling house at the end of the road. The building had a respectable and modest appearance, but it was nothing compared to the opulent social club he had frequented in the past.

“Don’t be fooled by its appearance, my friend,” said one of the officers with a thick voice, Erich, the eldest son of the Faber family, who had made a name in the steel industry. “This place has its own unique charm. You’ll see for yourself soon enough.” He gave Bastian a sheepish grin and a promising gesture.

Bastian nodded with a smile, understanding the unspoken and hidden message. He had no desire to sully his reputation by frequenting a seedy establishment in the back alleys, but he also knew it would be unwise to offend these powerful men by pretending to be above such pursuits. It was better to play along and choose his battles wisely.

As they entered the gambling house, a middle-aged man, presumably the owner, greeted them with over-the-top enthusiasm. “You’re finally here! I’ve been worried, as it’s been far too long since I’ve seen any of you,” he said, his words dripping with bitter insincerity. It was clear that this hospitality was motivated solely by the knowledge of how much money would be spent here tonight on immodest pursuits.

The man’s gaze swept over the group of officers, finally landing on Bastian’s face. “And who might this be?” he asked, his tone curious.

“This is Captain Klauswitz ,” Lucas said, pride exploding in his voice like a lava. “I’m sure you’ve seen his name in the newspapers. He’s the hero who protected the empire’s seas.” The man’s eyes widened in surprise before he let out a joyful exclamation.

“I never thought I’d have the honor of meeting such a distinguished hero here! It’s an honor, Captain.” He presented Bastian with a gift of quality whiskey and a box of cigars, to which the officers responded with great enthusiasm.

However, Bastian’s face remained stoic, indifferent yet his smile smooth but unenthusiastic. He went through the motions of drinking, smoking, and chatting, without an emotional investment to any of the glitters surrounded. This was a far cry from the sophisticated conversations and debates he was used to having in the exclusive social club. Instead, the topics of the night quickly devolved into dirty scandals and shady dealings, all punctuated by raucous laughter.

Bastian was content to simply listen and observe, interjecting only occasionally with appropriate responses and light laughter. As the night wore on, the owner of the establishment approached them with swift steps and a deep bow. “Gentlemen, the second floor is now ready for you. Please, follow me.”

The officers, who had been deep in conversation, rose from their seats with eagerness. Despite the copious amounts of alcohol they had consumed, they moved with the energy and vitality of young soldiers, welcoming their next adventure already.

*.·:·.✧.·:·.*

“One more time pease! Please Just give me one more chance!”

As they made their way down the hallway on the second floor, heading towards the VIP card room, they were met with a desperate scream. An elderly man was being dragged out of the normal card room by guards, frantically pleading for one more chance. The officers stopped in their tracks, their eyes drawn to the commotion. The man, now on his knees, was a typical gambler who couldn’t bear to leave the tables, even after losing all his stake.

Bastian, who had been paying little attention to the trivial fuss, checked his watch. The clock said that the midnight almost approached. After a dinner at the Admiralty, drinking at a social club, and now this. He tidied his uniform and shook off the fatigue by opening his eyes.

At that moment, the man began to riot again. “Let me in! I still have stakes left!” he cried.

“Ah, yes. How are you doing, Mr. Beggar Duke? Then show me the stakes,” the guards mocked, their faces withering.

“That’s…that, yes! My daughter! I will bet my daughter!” the man exclaimed triumphantly, shaking off the guards’ hands. “You all know what a great beauty my daughter is, right? Compared to that, the stakes are nothing.”

Even as the guards clicked their tongues in disbelief, the man continued to roam the card room, speaking passionately. Bastian watched the scene with a mix of laughter and sighs and Erich, the eldest son of the Faber family stepped out.

“Hey! Really, are you ready to accept responsibility for what you just said?” Erich approached the desperate gambler who was trying to sell his daughter, his eyes sparkling as he did so. “Are you genuinely willing to give up your daughter for a bowl of chips on the table?” He pointed to the table in the card room where the chips were ready to be used.

The man let out a loud shout while cautiously swallowing. “Of course, I agree! The gem of this city, no, the most stunning woman in the entire empire, is my daughter!”

“I anticipate this version being more enjoyable. What about you?” With a fairly intrigued expression, Erich Faber requested permission. The officers looked at one other and then discreetly moved towards the man in the poker room.

Bastian sat in the dimly lit room, his eyes as serene as the depths of a starless night. He gazed upon the shoddy skit being performed on stage, finally understanding the allure that drew the privileged children of society to these low-rent gambling dens.

“Hurry up, Bastian!” The rowdy group gathered around the card table beckoned him with fervor, the father who had sold his own daughter now watching him with a gleam in his eyes.

Bastian approached with a small, knowing smile on his lips. The game was set to begin as soon as the final seat was filled. He examined the cards dealt to him, taking a puff of his cigar as he weighed his options. Though the outcome was not in his favor, it was a small loss he was willing to accept.

*.·:·.✧.·:·.*

The clock tower bell’s loud sound shattered the nocturnal silence of the starless gray night. Odette put an end to her laborious weaving and turned her attention to the area in front of her. Tira, who had been so anxious to help, was now dozing off on the table.

Odette finished the task at hand and sighed softly. She rubbed her worn-out hands, hurt from hours of embroidery, as she delicately folded the partially finished veil and gathered the cotton thread. The lovely light of a white, full moon peeked the early spring sky through the torn curtains.

“Tira,” Odette whispered, gently tapping her shoulder. Tira jolted awake as if she received an electric shock, her eyes wide with surprise. “Has father not come home yet?” Tira, still drowsy and disoriented, began to weep. “What if something’s happened to him?”

“Don’t worry,” Odette soothed, “It’ll all be fine.” She guided Tira, who was struggling to shake off her worries, towards their shared bedroom.

The room, facing north, offered a stunning view of the Prater River and the drawbridge that spanned it. Though the sight was breathtaking, on windy nights like this, the creaking of the ancient window frames made it difficult to sleep.

“It sounds like the roar of a ghost,” Tira grumbled as she splashed water to cleanse her face, her reddened cheeks aglow like a crescent moon in the soft lamp light. Odette tenderly caressed her sister’s cold cheek, her own hand still warm from a feverish burn.

Back in good old days, they resided in a home with the luxury of hot water, but because of their father’s financial difficulties, they were compelled to look for a less expensive rental. But even this run-down, old building beyond the city was a blessing, made only possible by the benevolence of the pension paid to the Imperial family. Odette couldn’t help but find the pleasant creaking of the old window frames, a reminder of how much worse their situation could have been, despite the horrible wails that resounded through the corridors.

Tira’s sobs bid farewell without announcing as Odette leaned in, planting a firm kiss on her forehead. “Stop crying, sweet pea, try to sleep now.” she commanded.

Tira grumbled in protest, “I am not your baby,” yet even then, she lay down on the bed like an obedient child. Silence conquered the room, battling with the soft sound of Tira’s snoring.

Odette moved stealthily, dimming the lamp before sneaking out of the room. She completed her priority task; placing the food she had prepared for her father on the table and securing the door. With a list of necessities in hand, Odette set out to make the most of the money earned from yesterday’s race.

Exhausted, she longed to collapse into bed, but her determination pushed her on. She washed her clothes, slipped into her worn pajamas and tended to her hair with care before finally succumbing to the sweet release of sleep.

Her mother would always chant to her riligiously “Under no circumstances should you lose the minimum dignity.” It was a habit, even after their family fell into poverty and could no longer be called aristocrats.

Her mother held onto the worn-out rope of hope that one day they would return to their former status, but she ultimately passed away without ever nearing her dream and untiring hope. Despite this, Odette couldn’t bring herself to let go of the past, it was the last legacy her mother left behind.

As she locked the window and drew the curtains, Odette lay down next to her younger sister Tira, who was sleeping soundly. As she held her sister close, Odette found comfort in the moment. It felt peaceful, it felt warm, and it felt like good old days. She knew her life would be difficult, but for now, it felt fulfilling. The moment was beautiful enough to live for.

It was a night that offered her a glimmer of the hope seen in fairy tales that these tranquil days would last forever.

It was an unpleasant luck, not willing to escape their lives.

*.·:·.✧.·:·.*

Bastian gazed down at the cards in front of him, his expression got blended in confusion and disbelief of whatever was happening before his eyes. Four identical cards stared back at him, a clear indication of his victory.

“Five! I think Captain Klauswitz just won the most beautiful woman in the empire!” exclaimed one of the players.

“What? Isn’t it a foul to bring the goddess of victory to the deck of cards?” questioned another. The room erupted in cheers as the players celebrated, completely forgetting about their defeat in the face of the excitement of the moment. Bastian took a drag from his cigar, rubbing his aching forehead. Though victorious, he couldn’t shake off the feeling of embarrassment at winning in such a casual game.

“Is the beggar duke looking at his son-in-law?” sneered one of the onlookers as the tension in the room reached a fever pitch.

“Now. Now you have to pay the stakes!” the crowd chanted, their voices growing louder and more insistent.

Bastian’s gaze was cold and mocking as he looked across the table at the man who sat there, half dazed, his eyes wide open with fear. Cold sweat dripped down his flushed face and dripped onto the back of his thin hand. “No way…uh, that can’t be…” he stammered, fidgeting nervously with his now meaningless hand.

Bastian stood up from his seat, ready to leave this place and wash his hands of any involvement with the daughter of such a pathetic noble, but the party had other plans. “Where? You have to get the stakes right!” they shouted, holding him tightly.

“That’s right, Bastian. This is your legitimate right,” the officers called out as they summoned watchful guards.

“I want him to bring the stake he promised,” Erich declared, his voice ringing out above the chaos. It was a high-stakes game, and he was determined to come out on top.

At Erich’s suggestive remarks, the guard’s eyes began to shake. When the man finally realized what was happening, he began to sob and plead for mercy, but the audience’s excitement ascended to no ends.

“Pay the debt, beggar duke, as soon as you can.”

The owner quickly arrived after learning the news and issued a strict directive. The security guy sighed deeply before eventually leaving the casino to collect the woman.

Bastian returned to his chair and inhaled deeply of cigar smoke. He felt rather filthy about the victory, but he didn’t bother to give it a voice. He chose to remain silent. Bet cash for waste anyhow. First and foremost, he was decided to handle the biggest profit by returning discreetly after blending into this environment.

Bastian sighed in irritation, his sigh thicker than the fog of his cigar. He could make out the father who had sold his daughter to him through the dissipating pale smoke.

The man known as the Duke of the Beggars sobbed in pain, loud enough to slice the sky.

*.·:·.✧.·:·.*

*.·:·.✧.·:·.*

The trolley chugged to a halt, its brakes screeching against the tracks as it reached the gates of the entertainment quarter. Odette stepped out of the carriage, accompanied by the stern-faced security guard from the casino. As she alighted, a group of weary travelers took her place, filling the seats she had just vacated. “Go ahead,” the guard said gruffly, shattering the silence.

Odette took a deep breath, her mind focused on the task at hand. As she made her way down the brightly lit street, the dark veil that obscured her face did little to impede her progress. She had been here many times before, always on a mission to fix the mistakes her father committed. The familiarity of the place gave her a sense of purpose as she marched towards her destination like an armed solider.

When Odette approached the grand entrance of the casino, a burly man stepped in her way giving her a gruff nod, “You’re good to go, woman”

Odette paused, her eyes scanning his face for any indication of what was to come. The man let out a long sigh, a sign that he had done this countless times before, even on their trolley ride here.

Odette, her voice barely above a whisper, asked, “Is the sum substantial?” The guard didn’t hesitate before replying, his words carrying a weight that Odette couldn’t quite place.

The Duke’s daughter wasn’t surprised when the casino’s security officers broke through the door in the middle of the night because she was familiar with the techniques of a beggar. She simply asked for a moment to gather her belongings and gave them a resigned look before sighing heavily. She was aware that this was probably just another incident of her father’s gambling debts coming back to haunt him like a nightmare.

“No” the guard spoke firmly, his composure regained. Odette’s fate was not an exceptional one among the women sold to the gambling tables. He had witnessed countless wives and daughters of gamblers fall into the web of such dire circumstances and knew all too well their inevitable end. If luck was on their side, perhaps they could come to an agreement to repay their debts, but the group that had won Odette seemed not to be so merciful. Their intention was plain simple; to get the daughter of a beggar Duke, their noble trophy.

“Go up.” With cold and emotionless eyes, the guard gestured towards the grand staircase that led to the second floor. It was a pitiful sight for a woman whose life had been ruined by her father’s recklessness, yet Odette couldn’t bring herself to be filled with anger and self-pity. With her head held high and her back straight, she began her ascent up the plush red carpeted stairs. The hem of her tattered dress, which bore no resemblance to that of a noblewoman, swayed gracefully with each step, as if she was walking on the swift water.

The guard, his mind made up, hastened to follow Odette. The beggar Duke’s daughter, unaware of the tragedy that lay ahead, carried herself with the utmost dignity, even as she was sinking deeper into the mire.

*.·:·.✧.·:·.*

Duke, the beggar, chose an alternative. He altered his posture and started threatening them after realizing that the river of the tears had flown to nothing.

“Do you recognize me? You will receive a sizable cut if you treat me in this manner.” The cigar smoke that filled the card room and the trifling confidence that this kind of person lives like a habit dispersed in chaos.

“You will never be safe if the emperor learns of your careless touching of an imperial woman!” The Duke gambler now turns to the emperor as a weapon after previously lining up a variety of noble titles and households.

The officers watching him laughed hysterically all at once, as if he were a specimen on show. Erich Faber ultimately started crying as he was giggling as if he was having trouble breathing.

Erich sniffed and wiped his tears away with the palm of his hand, he uttered “Hey, Bastian! I heard you had a meeting with the woman who will be His Majesty the Emperor’s niece?”

Bastian responded with a phony smile and made a slow approach to the window. He let a cool wind in by cracking it open just a little bit. He saw the pointless spectacle while leaning against the ledge. The derision of the onlookers increased in proportion to the beggar Duke’s lies. He heard a knock at the door as the muck was about to become insufferable.

Bastian stood up and bit on the unlit cigar. The beggar Duke and the onlookers who had put an end to the commotion all cast their gazes toward the poker room’s entrance.

The door pulled open amid the eerie darkness.

Whilst watching the commencement of the new performance with his arms folded, Bastian put the lighter down. Beyond the open door, a woman in an aged coat, gloves, and hat with a black veil covering it stood looking humble and worn-out. She was the beggar Duke’s daughter, and the enormous man standing behind her, who was undoubtedly her guard, had likely come to get her.

The woman approached her father with steady steps, showing no trace of hurriedness as she cautiously surveyed her surroundings. In the oppressive quietness of the space, her steps silently reverberated.

“Tell me how much my father owes you,” Standing in front of her father who was grieving, the woman spoke with a fierce conviction. She had obviously not realized the seriousness of the situation.

The room started to erupt in mocking laughter and jeers, but the woman remained unwavering and endured the barrage of humiliation with a haughty air.

As Bastain placed his cigar on the windowsill, he grinned, his well-defined eyebrows curved upward. The woman’s clothing and platinum hair were highlighted by a soft glow created by the moonlight filtering through the window, aglowing the elaborate curtain.

“You seem to be under a misapprehension, my lady, but you were not summoned here to pay off your father’s debt,” Erich spoke softly as he approached the woman.

“Then I will leave with my father,” the woman replied resolutely, her voice cold and clear, incongruous with the chaos surrounding them.

“I’m afraid that’s not possible. Even if your father leaves, you must stay,” a noble interjected.

“What do you mean?” Odette asked, confused.

“Your father wagered you in a bet and, well, he won,” the tall man by the window gestured towards Bastian, who stood near the window.

Odette’s breath got trapped in her throat as she struggled to understand the gravity of the situation. It took her a few moments before she turned to her father with questioning eyes.

“I am so sorry, my dear. I didn’t know it would turn out like this. I was sure I could win big,” Duke Dyssen’s face contorted in pain as he lowered his head, unable to face his daughter. It was the cowardice he often displayed when confronted with the consequences of his actions.

Odette stole a glance at the group that surrounded her with frightened eyes. They were all in uniform and she, who knew little about soldiers, could tell they were officers in the admiralty. Most of the soldiers serving at the capital’s headquarters were from the upper classes. It meant that they had the power to rectify any accident committed in the back alley gambling house. This was the beginning of the end of her life as she knew it. She was no longer the Duke’s daughter but a pawn in a lost game of power and wealth, where a nobleman checkmated her father.

The card parlor shortly became saturated with the mocking whistle that someone had begun to blow. Then came jokes and laughter with obscene undertones.

Odette’s own unsteady heartbeat was all she could hear, though. Her heart was beating with the speed of light. While it appeared that the blood throughout her entire body froze, the breath emanating from her trembling lips was becoming increasingly hotter like the scorching sun. When it became difficult to hold him owing to dizziness, the man standing at the window began to move.

Odette moved her head to stare at the locked door, knowing that it was futile to strategize a plan in no time. There would be guards waiting on the opposite side of the door even if she were lucky enough to get it there.

Why not just jump out the window instead? She thought to herself.

The shadow of a tall guy lurked over her head at the very moment she felt an unreasonable impulse.

In the shade, Odette slowly raised her head. Before she knew it, the person who had won the drawing was standing there right before her naked eyes.

*.·:·.✧.·:·.*

“Are you not ashamed?” The woman’s inaugural speech was audacious and shocking.

Bastian dropped his eyes as he glanced at the woman who was being sold to him. Her face’s outline loomed and was reflected in her black veil.

“To think that an officer of the Empire would participate in such a low-level gamble. You probably don’t know that a contract to buy and sell people can’t be established in the first place.” Her voice began to tremble slightly, but the woman persisted in admonishing him. Bastian couldn’t help but laugh, feeling a tinge of embarrassment at her bluff. “Searching for law and morals in a place like this doesn’t seem like a very good solution,” he said.

“When did the honor and dignity of a soldier become obscured by time and place?” The woman, who was unexpected to retort, threw back a provocative counter-question. Though she may not be wise in her conduct, she was at least praised for not weeping unseemly like her father. “Please forgive my father for his mistakes. In return, I will pay off your debt.” The woman, who had already adjusted her posture sufficiently, made a bold request. Her attitude was incongruous with her predicament, but she stood tall and unyielding.

“What? Nah.” Bastian answered humbly while clasping his head. His icy eyes were made even more noticeable by the stiff smile that was still on his lips.

She was fluttering with fear. Her body was stuffed with terror that she was no longer able to conceal. Although Bastian did not enjoy this form of repression, the sight brought him sadistic pleasure.

“Now, I’ll give you the command, because you belong to me “Ready to put a stop to this ruse, Bastian declared. He was tired of making this woman look foolish. He lost the willpower to practice any more patience.

However, he knew that if he let the woman go, more problems would birth. Scanning the eager faces of the crowd, Bastian’s gaze returned to the beggar Duke’s daughter. The veil hiding her face suddenly irked him. It would have been quite satisfying to tear it off in a moment of insult. Of course, there was not a lot of cheap curiosity that wanted to check out the woman’s appearance. But Bastian had other plans, he was going to make her his plaything and make sure she followed his every command.

Bastian commanded, interrupting the stillness, “Take off that veil, you. I have no desire for your cash. Also unwilling is the individual who received it in place of money. But since a one-sided defeat would be unacceptable to us, we’ll put an end to it by just gazing into your face.” Bastian continued his dry explanation without any enthusiasm as he continued to gawk at the apprehensive, bony woman.

“Come on, let’s just do whatever they want and leave here,” The Duke, who had been watching, began to grab hold of his daughter. He showed no remorse for insulting his daughter, his only concern was getting out of this predicament.

Swallowing the venomous anger that rose to the tip of her throat, Odette raised her tear-filled eyes and faced the man. It was a very infinitely humiliating, but she couldn’t fight it. She knew very well that this was the best solution. For now, that man was Odette’s only hope, as she had no other choice but to comply with his every command.

“Can you honor your word?” Odette posed a query while grasping the veil’s tip. Even though her hands were trembling inside of her worn-out gloves, her voice sounded unexpectedly icy. Trust came later, respect and decency followed then. Although it was absurd to discover such high ideals at a casino, Bastian nodded pleasantly. He was exhausted from a hard day at work and was most annoyed by the indecent show.

“Get going, sweetheart.” Odette continued to hesitate before the Duke moved forward, prepared to reveal her personally.

However, the woman adamantly rejected his contact and removed the veil on her own. She showed off her long narrow neck, pursed lips, and well-groomed nose. The excitement of the observers increased as the woman’s face gradually emerged like a new moon from beneath her black lace.

Bastian studied the woman silently as she slowly lifted her veil, her eyelids drooping. The instant his bored expression twitched slightly, she revealed her face. The beggar Duke’s daughter cautiously raised her head during the brief hush in the card room. She met Bastian’s gaze directly and he eagerly returned it. The woman had stunningly beautiful eyes, deep as an ocean and a perfect blend of blue and green. Her big eyes had an oddly clear glow, like those of a frightened young animal under attack.

Bastian held a locked gaze on the woman in front of him as the officers who had been holding their breath began to move. Her long eyelashes and shadows of her inflamed eyes stood out starkly in contrast to the paleness of her face. Her appearance was even more exquisite, night-black hair and pale complexion was a rhyming poetry in itself.

Bastian’s slanted mouth curved into a smile that was tinged with a hint of dejection.

Even though the beggar Duke was indeed a terrible cheater, it was obvious that he never lied about the stakes.

The beggar dude told the truth, she was indeed a magnificent woman.

Bastian breezed down the winding road, leaving the chaos of the city far behind. The strait stretched out before him like a ribbon of silver, glinting in the late afternoon sun. The golden light bathed everything in its warmth, turning the world into a glittering wonderland, beautiful enough to embrace.

He drove a roofless cream-colored convertible, letting himself to melt in the beauty of the landscape. Dressed in a sleek tailcoat, he felt like the king of the road as he pushed the accelerator to the floor.

The magnificent summer estates amazed him profoundly that littered the terrain as he got closer to the coastal city of Ardene. These residences belonged to the imperial and aristocratic aristocracy, serving as a reminder of the wealth and influence of bygone times. But there has been a change in the city in recent years. The mansions of the nouveau riche now stood beside the stately estates of the old guard as a result of the influx of new money. Due to a change in the balance of power, nobility who couldn’t adapt to the new circumstances were compelled to sell their homes to the highest bidder. His journey’s endpoint, Klauswitz, was one such event.

Bastian entered the Klauswitz family’s estate as the sky to the west started to turn mauve. The magnificently situated northern land, known as the Jewel of the Ardene, was formerly owned by a distinguished family with a lengthy history. It belonged to a noble family with a long history and rich tradition, but the outcome was disgraceful. They could no longer hold the land and it was purchased by Bastian Klauswitz’s father, Jeff Klauswitz, who was known as the railroad king of Berg.

Bastian felt a rush of adrenaline as he thought about the reunion that was about to occur. It had been two months since he last saw him at an award ceremony.

As he pulled up to the grand entrance of the mansion, a piercing scream caught his attention. “Oh my God, Bastian!” It was his aunt, Maria Gross, who had just arrived in her own carriage. “Did you bring that lump of iron all the way here yourself?” she exclaimed, gesturing to his car.

Bastian beamed as he emerged from the car. He gave the waiting attendant the keys and replied, “As you can see.” He greeted her briefly before leading his aunt up the stairs and into the mansion’s marble-floored foyer.

When they passed, the line of attendants on either side of the aisle bowed their heads in unison. This time, Bastian decided to behave himself, keeping a respectful silence and a grin as they moved into the giant hall.

“I’m not sure why you’d do anything your father would disapprove of.” His aunt began nagging as she moved away from the housekeepers after a little break.

“I have no idea. Perhaps he might feel sorry for his son who cannot afford a driver.” Bastian beamed brilliantly, in the cast of sunset light that peeked through the window.

Maria Gross looked at her nephew with a look of confusion, taking in his impeccable appearance. The neatly combed hair with pomade and the crisp white bow tie only added to the cool, collected air that was so unique to the Klauswitz family. From his striking facial features to his tall, lean build, and the way he carried himself, everything about Bastian was eerily reminiscent of his father.

The only thing that set him apart was the platinum blonde hair he’d inherited from his mother. It was almost as if he were a mirror image of his father, and yet, his father had rejected him for it. The irony wasn’t lost on Maria.

“If there’s anyone more interested in your fortune than you are, it would be Jeff Klauswitz,” Maria teased Bastian with a sharp wit. Rumors had spread that Bastian had inherited a considerable fortune from his mother’s family, the Illis, but he was notoriously tight-lipped about it. Even those closest to him didn’t know the extent of his wealth. He kept his cards close to his chest, like a Mistry against the world.

“It’s only an old house and a trust deposit. It can’t be considered a scale of property.” A little, humble smile played on Bastian’s lips as he glanced blankly at his aunt. Maria could have been duped by his performance if she didn’t know the Illis family as well as she did.

Maria drew nearer and her voice became whispered. “I’ll respect your interests if you don’t want to prematurely show your hand. But keep in mind that you are the reason why your grandfather left the hilt in your possession.” The inability to read Bastian’s expression suggested that he didn’t fully get what she was saying.

To her dismay, Maria wasn’t getting the answers of her quest, so she deftly changed the topic. “I heard there will be an announcement of Franz’s engagement at the party today,” she said. Bastian didn’t seem surprised by this news. His face reflected no hint of emotion.

“Count Klein’s daughter is the other person they talk of, do you know that?”

“Yes.”

“Then you are aware that your father must have had his lips stuck in his ears.” Maria Gross cast a critical glance at the last few stairs.

It was an open secret that even the dogs in the mansion knew that Jeff Klauswitz had nominated his second son, Franz, as his heir. He had always favored Franz, the son of an aristocratic mother, in his quest to raise his own status. Jeff’s happiness must have been at its peak, as Franz was betrothed to the daughter of a high nobleman.

“You too, hurry up and marry the bride who will become your wings. It’s as easy as picking one of the girls ready to throw themselves at you,” Maria said, gripping Bastian’s arm tightly.

“Yes, I’ll keep that in mind,” Bastian replied with a smile.

“That’s a very believable answer,” Maria let out a soft sigh. “Bastian, if I had to tell you in advance, it would be best not to pay attention to Princess Isabelle at all. Because the emperor will drop you straight down to hell,” she said, her voice serious.

Bastian laughed as if he had heard a bland joke, not taking her advice to heart.

“It’s hard to think about, I know. The emperor will have a different opinion even if you don’t feel anything for the princess”. Maria Gross took the final step up with a troubled look on her face.

Everyone in society was aware of the fact that Bastian Klauswitz, who had been chosen as an outstanding cadet that year, had captured the heart of the eldest princess of Berg, who had visited the naval college with her father, the emperor. She was aware of her impending death to the extent of her fledgling love, but the princess was still battling her feelings since.

“Didn’t the emperor see his sister, blinded by immature love and ruined her life? It would be hard for him to make a rational decision if he thought that his daughter might end up living a life like Princess Helen’s,” Maria said, her words ringing in Bastian’s ears.

Helen was a doomed princess. The memoirs of her, flooded back to Bastian’s as her aunt mentioned her name. He remembered the beggar Duke of the gambling board mentioning that name as well.

Could it be that he was the husband of Princess Helen?

The story of a woman who secretly fell in love with her lover just before her engagement to the Crown Prince Lovita and ran away from the night peninsula was a common subject in cheap novels and plays. It was also a favorite of scammers who pretended to be her.

“Bastian?” Maria Gross called out his name softly as she stopped in her tracks while he got lost in the dump of his thoughts.

“There will be nothing to worry about,” Bastian replied, his face relaxed and almost arrogant. He knew that marriage in this world was an excellent business opportunity, a lesson painfully learned by his father through his two marriages.

If he had to sell himself, he was determined to make the most profit. He could be cold and calculating, reconsidering his options. The immature princess had long been erased from his list of possibilities.

Maria Gross nodded in satisfaction and they continued on their way, making their way through a long hallway. Soon they arrived at the drawing room, where they could hear the exaggerated laughter of the guests and the sweet melody of chamber music.

Bastian entered the drawing room via the doorway with a confident smile on his face.

For the sake of Klauswitz’s honor, the revelation of news of the engagement tonight seemed better neglected.

*.·:·.✧.·:·.*

“What if we use a log to block that door?” Tira suggested, her gaze fixed on the door to her father’s bedroom.

Odette paused in her work, looking up at her sister. The elegant and sophisticated half-finished lace veil seemed out of place in this rundown rental home. “What happens if you close the door?”

Tira shrugged, “I don’t really care what happens to father once he’s locked in that space. In fact, I prefer it that way.”

“Tira.” Odette’s voice drenched with grief as she watched her sister’s tears spill over with anger.

“I can endure his drinking and gambling habits. I’m used to it now, but I will never forgive him for what he did to my sister,” Tira cried out in anger.

With a quiet sigh, Odette stood up from her seat and walked over to Tira, offering her a comforting embrace. Tira let out a sad cry as if she had been waiting for comfort, as Odette held her tightly.

Odette had wanted to keep it a secret from Tira, but her father had ruined everything in the end. He had been quiet for a while, but it was only because he had been drinking himself into oblivion again. When Odette’s patience worn out, her father had told Tira about the nightmare of the night. It was a weak excuse, stemming from a sense of self-justification.

Did anything actually happen when he returned, though?

Odette lost all hope when she saw her proud father speaking in such a brazen manner.

The man who claimed to have won that obscene gambling game was the only reason Odette was able to survive. She was only allowed to leave after the officer humiliated her to the point of lifting the veil and revealing her face, keeping his word. His father did nothing but weep recklessly.

“Can I speak to His Majesty the Emperor about this?” Tira stopped sobbing and lifted her damp face to look at Odette. “Before he harms you again, let’s seek help from our uncle to assist you. Perhaps such a plea will be heard by His Majesty. You are nonetheless His Majesty’s niece.”

“That is not possible.” Odette tightly embraced Tira’s face as she firmly shook her head. Odette’s demanding voice was accompanied by an unusual lack of patience.

The daughter of a bug who had ruined her sister’s life, Odette knew all too well that she was nothing more than contemptible to the emperor. She knew that the pensions for the imperial family were the last courtesy to the bloodline left by the princess. If her father’s atrocities that dishonored the imperial family were to become known, they might lose even that.

“Come and wash your face. Let’s go,” Odette said impulsively as she looked at Tira’s tear-streaked face. She felt that staying in this house would only lead to more harm than good. Odette didn’t want to let her life and Tira’s life go down like that.

“Let’s go downtown. Take a walk and have dinner,” Odette suggested.

“Right away?’ Tira’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Why not?” Odette replied with a calm determination, cutting off Tira’s half-spoken concerns about money. Her gaze left no room for further explanation.

Tira, torn between the bedroom where her drunken father lay asleep and her sister’s face, finally made a dash for the bathroom. The sound of her hurried footsteps diluted the despair and sorrow that weighed heavy on their home.

As Tira cleaned up the traces of her tears, Odette prepared to leave the house. She donned her hat and gloves, and retrieved the emergency fund she had saved from selling her lace. She also remembered to put a small pocket knife in her purse.

“How do I look, sister?” Tira asked, her face slightly nervous, as she stood in front of Odette.

Odette carefully examined her sister’s attire, smoothing out the pleats on her skirt and adjusting the collar. Finally, when Odette had finished tweaking her hair, she nodded in approval. Tira’s face broke into a relieved smile, her spirits lifted.

Odette and Tira left their old house by the river. Their soft footsteps echoed in the clear purple twilight path.