Chapter 1

The bold headline stretched across the front page of the newspaper, its ink still fresh.

"The Exile of the Bastard Prince!"

Beneath it, the damning words followed:

"Prince Edric De Varethorne, second prince of the empire, has been sentenced to exile in the northern territories after an alleged attempt on the life of Crown Prince Henry Varethorne. The palace has confirmed his immediate removal from court, effective in a week."

Seated by the grand window of her study,Veyna Duskborne turned the page with idle curiosity. The scandal had already swept through the noble circles like wildfire, but seeing it in print made it all the more real.

A prince exiled. A brother branded a traitor. A throne now uncontested.

"How convenience."

Veyna put down her teacup and turned the newspaper to the next page. She moves a strand of her snow-white hair from her face and tugs it behind her ear. She then rests her chin on her hand as she reads through the article. Once she reached the bottom of the article, she frowns. She grips the newspaper tightly almost ripping it apart.

"What the hell is this?!"

At the bottom of the article, there is a printed picture of her and the bastard prince's potraits placed next to each other.

"The Silver Thorn and The Bastard Prince were said to be hell-made couple!"

Clearly the one who wrote the article was trying to create a baseless scandal between her and the prince. It looks more like a ragebait to Veyna's eyes. Veyna ripped the newspaper to pieces.

"Those fools!"

After the short rage, she calmed herself down. She rubs the bridge of her nose. This kind of gossip is out of her control anyway. She is indeed not a dignified and a good noblewoman in public's eyes.

After the tragic loss of Marquis and Marchioness Duskborne, their only child, Veyna, was left vulnerable and adrift. At just ten years old, she was too young to inherit her father’s title, rendering her not only helpless but entirely without power.

Seizing the opportunity, the late marquis’s younger brother, William Duskborne, took matters into his own hands and assumed the title of marquis. However, his rule was only temporary, meant to last until Veyna came of age at 25 and reclaimed the title that was rightfully hers.

Veyna is 24 now, which means the title will be returned on her next birthday in about 7 months from now.

Veyna stares down at the ripped pieces of the newspaper with a blank expression. Deep down, she knew her uncle had no intention of ever returning the title to her but for now, it was only a suspicion.

Veyna’s thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the sound of knocking on her chamber door. She let out a weary sigh, not in the mood for any interruptions at the moment.

“My lady, I have an invitation letter for you,” came the voice from the other side of the door—it was Marie, her ever-dutiful maid.

Veyna remained silent for a moment, staring at the flickering candlelight on her desk. An invitation? She had little interest in attending any gatherings, especially with everything weighing on her mind. Still, ignoring it wouldn’t make it disappear.

With a resigned sigh, she rose from her chair and walked to the door, unlocking it with a soft click. As the door creaked open, Marie stood there, holding a neatly sealed envelope on a silver tray.

"Who is it from?" Veyna asked, eyeing the letter with mild disinterest.

"The Duke of Ashvale, my lady," Marie replied, lowering her head slightly.

Veyna's brow arched. The Duke of Ashvale? He was not someone who issued invitations lightly. Taking the letter, she turned it over in her hands, studying the elegant wax seal pressed into the parchment.

"Thank you, Marie," she murmured before stepping back into her room, closing the door behind her.

As she broke the seal and unfolded the letter, a sense of unease settled in her chest. Whatever this was, it was unlikely to be a simple social call.

Veyna’s eyes skimmed over the elegant script, her fingers tightening slightly around the parchment as she read.

"Lady Veyna Duskborne,

I trust this letter finds you in good health. It is with great pleasure that I extend an invitation to you for an intimate gathering at Ashvale Manor in two days' time. The occasion is one of great significance - my daughter, Lady Evelyne Ashvale, has become betrothed to His Highness, the Third Prince. We would be honored by your presence at the celebration.

Your attendance would mean much to our family, and I believe there are matters of mutual interest we may discuss.

With highest regards,

Duke Alistair Ashvale”

Veyna lowers the letter, her lips pressing into a thin line. So, the Duke's daughter was now engaged to the Third Prince. It is a significant match, one that would undoubtedly shift the balance of power at court. The Ashvale family had always been influential, but with this union, their standing would be cemented even further.

A thoughtful frown crossed her face. The phrase "matters of mutual interest" lingered in her mind. What could the Duke possibly want from her?

The Duke is well awarded about her hostility towards his daughter. Yet, he still sent that letter requesting for her presence in the upcoming banquet. He even wrote down only her name at the beginning of the letter, not her family name which means the Duke wasn't requesting for the other rest of Duskborne. He was specifically requesting for her presence.

She glances toward the window, where the moon hung high in the sky. Normally, any nobles had little choice but to attend. If they refused, it could be seen as an insult, not just to the Duke but to the royal family as well. However in this case, Veyna is known for her attitude and carelessness towards whatever people talked about her.

Evelyne Ashvale, she is the perfect portray of a noblewoman with an outstanding achievement in academy and her fair beauty. She is a mannerful and dignified young lady.

Opposite from Veyna who is a haughty and overbearing person. Anyone who messes with Veyna never came back home unharmed. The contradiction made Evelyne the flower of the society while Veyna is the thorn.

With a sigh, Veyna folded the letter and set it aside. It seemed her quiet days were coming to an end.

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