Chapter 3

Sapphira sat in the grand drawing room, her fingers lazily trailing along the rim of her teacup. Across from her, Genevieve sat with her usual bright smile, her warm brown eyes filled with practiced innocence.

To any outsider, they looked like two noble ladies enjoying a pleasant afternoon.

But beneath the surface, a battle had already begun.

Sapphira had spent an entire lifetime trusting this woman. She had believed Genevieve was her closest friend—her only friend.

And yet, Genevieve had been the first to sell her out.

She had whispered secrets to Selena. She had laughed behind Sapphira’s back. She had stood in the crowd when Sapphira was dragged to her execution.

This time, Sapphira would not be the fool.

This time, she was the hunter—and Genevieve was the prey.

"Genevieve," Sapphira began sweetly, setting down her teacup. "I’ve been thinking a lot about the past lately."

Genevieve’s smile remained, but Sapphira saw the slight stiffening of her shoulders.

"Have you?" Genevieve asked, her voice light and casual.

"Yes," Sapphira said, tilting her head slightly. "Especially about my friendships."

Genevieve let out a soft laugh. "Oh, Sapphira, you’ve always had many admirers. Even if some noble ladies were jealous of you, your true friends have always remained by your side."

Sapphira’s lips curved slightly.

"True friends, indeed," she murmured. "But tell me, Genevieve…"

She leaned forward slightly, resting her chin on her hand.

"What would you do if I were betrayed?"

Genevieve’s fingers tensed around her teacup.

But she recovered quickly.

"Betrayed?" Genevieve repeated, forcing out a chuckle. "Sapphira, why would you ask such a thing?"

Sapphira studied her.

Every lie Genevieve told, every fake smile, every forced laugh—Sapphira saw it all.

How did I never notice before?

"Humor me," Sapphira said lightly, stirring her tea. "Let’s say I was deceived by someone I trusted. Let’s say I was humiliated. Broken. What would you have done?"

Genevieve’s smile faltered.

"I…"

Sapphira watched her struggle for the right answer.

In the past, Genevieve had never been questioned. She had always hidden behind sweet words and innocent eyes.

But now?

Now, Sapphira was forcing her to think.

Genevieve swallowed. "Of course, I would always take your side, Sapphira."

Sapphira smiled.

A slow, knowing smile.

"Would you?"

Genevieve’s breath hitched.

Just for a second.

But it was enough.

Sapphira had confirmed it.

Genevieve was nervous. She felt cornered.

Good.

Now, all Sapphira had to do was push her further.

Sapphira leaned back in her chair, sighing dramatically. "You see, Genevieve, I’ve been hearing rumors lately."

Genevieve’s hands clenched in her lap.

"Rumors?" she repeated.

Sapphira nodded, swirling her tea. "Yes. It seems there are people around me who aren’t as loyal as they claim to be."

She looked up—her piercing blue eyes locking onto Genevieve’s brown ones.

Genevieve froze.

It was just for a second.

But Sapphira saw it.

The fear.

The panic.

The guilt.

Genevieve quickly forced another laugh. "Oh, Sapphira, you know how people love to talk. You mustn’t take such gossip seriously!"

Sapphira hummed thoughtfully. "Perhaps. But you know what they say…"

She set down her teacup and smiled.

"Every rumor has a grain of truth."

Genevieve blanched.

For the first time, she had no response.

Sapphira had planted the first seed.

And she would watch it grow into fear.

Later that evening, Sapphira returned to her chambers, satisfied.

Genevieve was shaken.

She would not act carelessly now. She would second-guess herself. And when people were afraid, they made mistakes.

And mistakes were what Sapphira needed.

As she sat at her vanity, brushing her long raven-black hair, a soft knock came at the door.

"My lady," Marie’s voice came from the other side. "Lady Selena is requesting to see you."

Sapphira’s lips curved slightly.

She had been expecting this.

"Let her in."

The door opened, and Selena entered, gliding into the room with her usual graceful deceit.

"Sister," Selena said sweetly, closing the door behind her. "I thought we should have a little… chat."

Sapphira turned in her chair, facing her sister with an innocent smile. "Oh? About what?"

Selena walked toward the window, pretending to admire the moonlit gardens. "I couldn’t help but notice… you’ve been acting rather differently lately."

Sapphira chuckled. "Have I?"

Selena turned, her green eyes sharp.

"You have. And not just me—others are noticing too."

Sapphira merely tilted her head. "Is that so?"

Selena took a slow step forward. "I just want to make sure…"

She reached out, brushing a strand of hair from Sapphira’s shoulder.

"That you haven’t… forgotten your place."

Sapphira’s smile didn’t waver.

But inside, she was laughing.

How daring of Selena—to think she could still intimidate her.

In the past, this might have worked.

But now?

Now, Sapphira was the one holding the knife.

And it was time to remind Selena of that.

She stood up slowly, towering just a bit over her younger sister.

She reached up, gently grasping Selena’s wrist.

Selena blinked, startled.

Sapphira leaned in, whispering softly into her ear.

"Oh, dear sister," she murmured. "You should be careful…"

Her grip tightened—just enough to make Selena’s eyes widen.

"You wouldn’t want to end up like the others."

Selena stiffened.

Her breathing hitched.

And for the first time, she looked afraid.

Sapphira stepped back, smiling sweetly. "Shall I have Marie bring us some tea?"

Selena forced a tight smile. "No need. I suddenly feel quite tired."

She turned sharply and left the room—her composure cracked.

As soon as the door shut, Sapphira let out a soft chuckle.

Selena and Genevieve were both on edge now.

And this was just the beginning.

The moon hung high in the night sky, casting a silver glow over the Ravenshade estate. The air was crisp, carrying the distant scent of blooming roses from the garden. Inside her chamber, Sapphira stood before her mirror, deep in thought.

She had successfully planted seeds of fear in both Selena and Genevieve. They were wary now—watching their steps, second-guessing themselves.

But this was only the beginning.

True revenge was not rushed—it was a game of patience.

She would let them believe they still had control. She would let them breathe… for now.

And when the time came—she would tighten the noose.

A soft knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts.

Marie entered, bowing slightly. "My lady, the Duke requests your presence in the study."

Sapphira raised a brow.

Father? At this hour?

Duke Ravenshade was not the type to summon people for idle conversation. If he wished to speak with her at such a late hour, it meant something important had happened.

"Very well," she said, placing her brush down. "Let’s not keep him waiting."

Sapphira stepped into her father’s study, the scent of old parchment and leather filling the room. The Duke sat behind his desk, his expression unreadable.

But it was not him that caught her attention.

It was the man standing beside him.

Tall and imposing, the stranger exuded an air of quiet confidence. He was dressed in dark clothing, his long black coat embroidered with silver thread. His raven-black hair was tied loosely at the nape of his neck, allowing a few strands to frame his sharp, chiseled features.

And his eyes—a deep, piercing crimson—held an intensity that sent a shiver down Sapphira’s spine.

Who was he?

Before she could speak, the Duke motioned toward the man.

"Sapphira, I want you to meet Lord Lucian Vale."

Lucian Vale.

The name was unfamiliar.

But the way he stood—calm, unshaken, powerful—told her that he was no ordinary noble.

Sapphira lowered herself into a graceful curtsy. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lord Vale."

Lucian studied her for a moment before offering a small, polite nod. "Likewise, Lady Sapphira."

His voice was smooth—velvety, but laced with something unreadable.

Her father’s gaze lingered on her for a moment before he spoke again. "Lord Vale is an honored guest of the Ravenshade family. He will be staying at the estate for the time being."

Sapphira frowned slightly. An honored guest?

Her father rarely allowed outsiders into their home.

Which meant this man was important.

But why?

Sapphira turned back to Lucian, her curiosity growing.

"And what brings you to Ravenshade, Lord Vale?" she asked, keeping her tone polite but inquisitive.

Lucian’s lips curved slightly—not quite a smile, but something close.

"Business," he said simply.

Vague.

Carefully worded.

Sapphira’s mind began to race.

Was he a foreign noble? A military commander? Perhaps a secret informant?

Or… something more?

The Duke cleared his throat, drawing her attention back. "I expect you to treat Lord Vale with the same respect you would a member of our house. He is a valuable ally."

Ally?

That word caught her attention.

Her father was a powerful man, but he did not trust easily. If he considered this man an ally, then Lucian Vale was not just a noble.

He was dangerous.

Sapphira’s eyes flickered back to Lucian, who met her gaze without hesitation.

For the first time in a long while, she felt a strange tension.

It wasn’t fear.

Nor was it unease.

It was intrigue.

And something deep inside her whispered—

This man… will change everything.

Later that night, as Sapphira walked through the quiet halls, she heard the soft sound of footsteps behind her.

She didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

Lucian.

He had been watching her all evening.

Not in an obvious way. Not in a way that would cause suspicion.

But she had felt it.

The weight of his gaze. The way his eyes followed her movements.

It was subtle.

But Sapphira was no fool.

She slowed her pace, allowing him to catch up.

"Lord Vale," she greeted smoothly, glancing at him from the corner of her eye. "Taking a late-night stroll?"

Lucian let out a quiet chuckle. "I could ask the same of you, my lady."

Sapphira smirked. "I live here. You, on the other hand, are a guest."

Lucian hummed. "True. But sometimes, the best way to understand a place…"

He turned his head slightly, his crimson eyes glinting in the moonlight.

"…is to observe the people within it."

Sapphira’s smile didn’t waver, but inside, she felt a spark of challenge.

This man was not simple.

He was calculating. Sharp.

And he was studying her.

Just as she was studying him.

"Then I hope you find what you’re looking for," she said, tilting her head slightly.

Lucian’s gaze lingered on her.

"I already have," he murmured.

Sapphira’s breath hitched—only for a second.

But it was enough.

Lucian noticed.

And for the first time in years…

Sapphira felt her heart waver.

---

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***