Elira adjusted the lace collar of her winter coat as she stood before the grand mirror. Snow drifted lazily past the tall windows behind her, casting silver light on the polished marble floor of her new chambers.
Duchess-to-be.
Even thinking it felt like trying on someone else’s skin.
Behind her, two maids from House Leonhart stood in silence, finishing her braid. They were efficient, respectful, and — most of all — quiet. They didn’t ask questions. They didn’t comment. They didn’t judge her for the chains she wore just days ago.
It was the first time in her life she’d been dressed without being gossiped about.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
Both women bowed without a word and left the room.
Elira turned back to the mirror.
The woman staring back was a stranger. Pale, elegant, eyes sharpened like glass. She looked every inch the noble — but inside, her chest still felt hollow.
She picked up the black velvet gloves Kael had given her the night before and slipped them on. They were lined with silk, warm but fitted.
He had said nothing when he gave them to her. Just handed them over and walked away.
No comfort. No compliments. Just... protection.
That was Kael Leonhart in a single gesture.
---
By the time she stepped into the main hall, he was already waiting.
He stood near the doors, dressed in full military regalia — black and silver, sword at his side, hair neatly brushed back. His posture was perfect, his expression unreadable.
But when he saw her, something in his eyes flickered.
“You’re late,” he said.
“You’re early,” she replied.
A pause. Then the corner of his mouth twitched — almost a smile.
“We’re riding to the capital,” Kael said, offering his arm. “The Emperor wants to present our engagement personally. It’s a show of unity. Or control. Probably both.”
“And we’re playing along,” she murmured, sliding her arm through his.
“We’re rewriting the script.”
---
✦
The capital had changed since Elira last saw it.
Or maybe she had.
Banners of House Leonhart hung beside imperial flags as the carriage rolled through the noble quarter. Whispers followed them. Gasps. The slow-building storm of scandal reborn.
“Is that the villainess?”
“No — the duchess now, apparently.”
“He must be mad.”
Inside the carriage, Elira sat poised, chin lifted, eyes forward.
Kael didn’t speak for most of the ride. But when they neared the palace gates, he finally broke the silence.
“You’ll be tested today.”
“I expect nothing less.”
“They’ll try to provoke you — to expose weakness. Especially Seraphine.”
“Then I’ll wear silence as my weapon.”
He turned to look at her. Noticing her stiff hands.
“Nervous?”
She forced a smile. “No. Just furious.”
Kael gave a short nod. “Good. Hold onto that.”
---
✦
The Imperial Hall was filled to its brim with nobles. Gold-trimmed uniforms, silk gowns, jeweled masks — and behind it all, cruelty cloaked in charm.
Elira stepped onto the marble floor beside Kael, their engagement officially announced by the Emperor’s herald.
The crowd watched in stunned silence.
She met their gazes one by one. No fear. No apology.
Let them stare. Let them doubt.
She was still standing.
“Lady Elira,” came a saccharine voice, “I hardly recognized you.”
Seraphine.
Dressed in a gown of pearl and ice-blue, the princess glided toward her like a swan gliding over thin ice.
“You’ve... changed,” Seraphine said sweetly. “I expected chains, but here you are — a duchess.”
Elira offered a delicate curtsy. “And here I thought you’d be too busy plotting your next accusation to greet me.”
A few nobles gasped softly. Seraphine’s smile stiffened.
Kael stepped forward, placing a light but firm hand at Elira’s back. His voice was cold steel. “Princess Seraphine, any further insult toward my future wife will be considered an insult to House Leonhart. Are we clear?”
The room quieted.
Elira didn’t flinch. Didn’t smile. She simply locked eyes with Seraphine.
The war had begun. And this time, Elira wouldn’t lose.
---
✦
Later that evening, back at the Leonhart estate, Elira stood alone on the balcony outside her room.
The wind was sharp, tugging at her sleeves. Below, snow blanketed the trees in quiet beauty.
She heard footsteps behind her. She didn’t turn.
“You didn’t have to defend me,” she said softly.
Kael joined her by the railing. “Yes, I did.”
“Why? I had it handled.”
“Because you’re mine now. At least... publicly.”
She turned toward him. “And privately?”
Kael’s eyes held hers. For a moment, too long.
“Privately,” he said slowly, “you’re a woman who’s survived hell. You don’t need defending. But even wolves fight better in pairs.”
A silence stretched between them.
Then Elira said, “You wear that mask well, Duke.”
“So do you.”
She nodded. “Then let’s see who takes it off first.”
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