Five years later…

The Obregón estate had grown cold and quiet, but its new Archduchess ruled with steady composure.

Within her office, Kayona sat behind a grand mahogany desk, sunlight filtering through the tall windows and casting soft reflections on the polished floor. Papers lay in neat stacks, each sealed with the Obregón crest. She held a black fountain pen between her fingers, her silver curls loosely tied back as she reviewed a document for the third time.

Knock. Knock.

Kayona looked up at the door, her expression unreadable.

Great, just when my mind began to settle, she thought.

“Come in.”

The heavy doors creaked open. Rael Demwit, the tall, middle-aged butler of House Obregón, entered with steady steps. Dressed in his tailored black suit, he approached her desk and gave a respectful bow.

“Good afternoon, Your Grace,” he greeted carefully, lifting his head.

“You better have a valid reason for disturbing my peace, Rael,” she replied, her voice cool but firm.

A trace of sweat gathered on Rael’s brow, but he managed a calm smile.

“A letter arrived from House Kartegen,” he said, presenting the envelope.

She took it, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied the seal.

Twin swords crossed over a wolf’s head.

Kayona opened the letter carefully, reading the contents in silence.

“I am invited to attend the ball celebrating Sylrick Kartegen’s return from his five-year military training,” she said flatly, setting the letter aside and returning to her paperwork.

Rael hesitated, watching her closely.

“Your Grace… you will be attending, won’t you? You just turned twenty-one last month. It would be your debut as a noblewoman who has come of age.”

His voice softened, and he lowered his gaze, uncomfortable with what he was about to say.

“And you know… ever since you became Archduchess, the Imperial council has been watching closely. Once you’ve come of age, if you remain unmarried, you’ll risk losing your title and Obregón’s authority over the empire’s foreign diplomacy and border control.”

Kayona paused with the pen in her hand.

“That’s right, Rael. Remind me of the stupid rules and regulations binding this empire,” she said.

In the Valchevian Empire, the rules were clear. An heiress who had come of age could not hold her title unless she married. It was a law as old as the empire itself, written not to protect the rights of noblewomen, but to control them. An archduchess alone was a threat to tradition. An archduchess with power and no husband was a disruption to the imperial order.

Kayona glanced again at the letter, her mind drifting to the seal.

Of course it would be from them. House Kartegen. The empire’s revered military stronghold. Founded alongside Obregón and Geerich, they were one of the three Archducal pillars of Valchevia. Their symbol, twin swords behind a wolf’s head, suited them. Brutal, loyal, and always prepared for war.

She could still remember how the elders spoke of their discipline. Sons of House Kartegen were sent off to military academies the moment they turned eighteen, trained in isolated territories where weakness was not tolerated. Daughters were groomed to navigate court politics, taught to read enemies across banquet tables as easily as commanders did on battlefields.

House Kartegen had only one heir. Just like Kayona Obregón, Sylrick Kartegen was an only child, heir to a legacy carved in war and pride.

Kayona had no regard for them. Not anymore.

She had originally despised Sylrick alone. Back in their school days, he had been cocky, arrogant, and insufferably admired. Girls clung to his every word, enchanted by his golden eyes and effortless charm. Kayona had seen through all of it. She had known from early on that beauty and confidence meant nothing when paired with entitlement.

But after the incident, after the silence that followed, her distrust grew. It no longer stopped at Sylrick. She no longer trusted any of fellow Archducal houses.

And yet, her own blood tied her to this crumbling order. The Obregóns, known as the Empire’s Moon for their signature silver hair, bore the compass rose above a merchant ship. For centuries, her family had managed diplomacy, trade, and all matters beyond Valchevia’s borders. Every treaty, every alliance, every sea route of value had Obregón hands behind it.

The third Archducal house, Geerich, kept their eyes in the books. Their symbol was a feather quill within an open tome. Education, law, and historical preservation fell to them. They were the quiet ones, careful and calculating, but they were no less dangerous. Their scholars drafted the very laws Rael had just recited.

Kayona lowered her pen slowly, her thoughts still heavy with the weight of it all.

They don’t care about service. They care about control. My title. My house. My body. All bound by imperial law until I choose a man deemed acceptable, she thought.

The pressure was tightening around her.

I know the court will be watching. Attending the ball means facing them. Declining it will be seen as rebellion, she thought.

She reached for the letter again, tracing the seal as if the paper itself could hear her hesitation. Sylrick Kartegen. The only child of the empire’s most celebrated military bloodline.

Their lives had always run in opposite directions. He had gone into isolation to earn his stripes as the future war leader. She had been thrown into a battlefield no one prepared her for.

And now, they were both being summoned to stand in front of the same empire. Not as children of legacy. But as proof that legacy still held power.

Kayona leaned back in her chair, the sunlight cutting across her silver curls as a thought slipped quietly into her mind.

What if I ask him to marry me?