"Only cowards take shelter in prophecies," he said. Despite the rhythm of the dance, he supported my back so perfectly that he could whisper into my ear at this proximity and speed without me stumbling. "I believe my own eyes. And what I am looking at right now... is not a disaster. It is a miracle."

My lips trembled, my eyes lowered, beginning to well with tears. In this world, to cry meant to break. And I... did not want to break so easily anymore.

My mother's death, hastened by her unraveling sanity, did not take long; it was also whispered that she died because she dabbled in dark magic. Magic was, of course, real. But aside from the healers, mages who wielded the elements were either ancient or died tragic, early deaths. My mother, on the other hand, was a remarkably soulless woman, and my father always made it a point to mention she had been that way both before and after we were born. My father was not the sort of man to lie just to keep someone content; he was excessively blunt, deliberately breaking us so that we might grow stronger. That is why my mother's death was the one thing I never blamed myself for. After all, if even my father said as much, I surely could not be the cause.

My older brother, Calix, was always occupied. While our mother was still alive, we would play games and dance together in the gardens of our estate. My mother would watch us from an upper-floor window, wearing that same impassive expression she adopted in her final days. Even when my father entirely neglected my education and the servants turned a blind eye to me, my brother—who was born mere minutes before me—took it upon himself to care for me. I learned the basics from him. But once he left the house to join the ranks of the knights, everyone gave up on me before ever giving me a single chance. I knew neither how to dance nor how to serve. As for my father... he was cold and indifferent. I could never understand it: why would a father distance himself even further from us in the void left by our mother?

Still, from what I knew, my mother had never truly loved me either, not even in pretense. Calix, at least, occasionally earned a shred of our father's praise... But I... for the first time in nineteen years, I had received a compliment I could actually believe—and from someone who stood to gain nothing from me: Ambrose.

"A miracle..?" I whispered, struggling to keep my voice from cracking.

"What else is a second child, if not a miracle?" His lips brushed my ear.

I held on a little tighter. Please do not pull away, do not see my sorrowful eyes.

He let out a soft breath. As the music transitioned to a slower instrument, both of his hands moved to the small of my back. "It is alright..." he murmured. "If you do not wish them to see, you can hide your face in my shoulder."

But it is you I specifically do not want to see it, General Ambrose Verena.

Why are you being so kind to me?.. Perhaps these mystical occurrences intrigue you, perhaps you just want to see what other curses I bear...

"Still..." I murmured.

"Shhh..."

He knew I could not speak any further. For a moment, I buried my face against him, but the second I felt composed, I pulled back. I offered one final curtsy to conclude our dance gracefully. "Thank you, Ambrose." I offered him a smile that reached my eyes but kept my lips sealed.

"What are husbands for?" It was a humble dismissal of my gratitude.

He caught my waist and turned me to his side. It turned out someone had approached us from behind. This man must have belonged to a certain aristocratic class. He wore a coat with a white fur collar, chains dangling and clinking with his every movement. Trailing behind him were two women—clearly his wives. His eyes gleamed with the unwarranted arrogance of a man boasting of his possessions... and the greed of one chasing fresh prey. His wives, wearing expressions that spoke only of drained energy, fixed their eyes on Ambrose and me.

"General Verena." The man bowed, though there wasn't a trace of sincerity in his gesture. "I believe you were about to leave your wife. To be so devoted to the lady before you have even chosen your second wife... ah, such behavior will certainly draw quite the attention among our people."

Ambrose did not furrow his brows, he wasn't angry however that familiar muscle in his jaw twitched once again.

I took an involuntary step back. A second wife... It was something completely natural to everyone. Women had no choice; we were taken, placed, and possessed. And I... had never even been considered a living, breathing creature with a beating heart in anyone's eyes, let alone a sole wife.

Ambrose did not answer at first. He turned to me. He placed a hand gently on my back; his touch was soothing, yet it carried a silent warning—stay calm, let me speak.

"I believe you should be the last person to comment on the number of my wives, Lord Arvanel." His voice held an icy timbre, though the words flowed with polite precision. "Some of us do not count the tears of others in the name of 'power'. I do."

The man's smile faded, though he tried to maintain his composure. "It appears you have found Lady Deyanira alone to be quite... captivating enough."

"Yes." He shifted his gaze to me, but this time, his lips held no mockery, only pride. "And eternal enough. While you are still preoccupied with multiplying, I am trying to understand a single soul."

My heart clenched. This was not merely a compliment. It was a stance. And looking into his eyes... I knew that stance belonged to me alone.

The man bowed his head slightly, as if accepting defeat.

"It seems destiny has chosen you, Lady Deyanira," he said, though his voice was barbed. "I hope you can carry this burden." When Arvanel uttered those final words, a sudden realization crashed over me.

A beloved wife..? Especially for the future Emperor who was soon to ascend the throne? Arvanel's meaning was sharp and absolute: 'A infertile woman cannot bear an heir, and a man without an heir cannot be Emperor... Can you carry this burden?'

I did not answer. But as Ambrose's hand slid from my back to my arm, my gaze snapped to him. His emerald-green eyes, with their glints of gold, carried a clear message, assuring me he stood by my side...

The man and his wives walked away. In that moment, the dozens of couples dancing around us ceased to matter. Within the silence, there was a suspended moment where even the music seemed to retreat. I tensed. It was impossible, after all. Ambrose was to be Emperor. And I lack fertility. Who, then, would be the next heir to the throne?

Ambrose took another step closer to me. "I will not have a second wife," he stated calmly.

"Why are you saying this?" I asked, my tone betraying my anxiety.

"Must I partake in these pathetic battles to prove my strength? I capture, I spill blood, I conquer. These men can marry their fifth wives if they please, much like my father, the Emperor—yet even he is not stronger than I am. So what is the purpose of all this enslavement?.. And you should also know that my views do not align with those of the people or the dynasty. I have my own truths, and among them is the conviction of just how cruel and unnecessary a second wife truly is."

"It may seem cruel, yes. I do not agree with their views either, but because I feel indebted to you for a certain reason, I am at least trying to listen you. However why does all this seem unnecessary to you? If you were in love with me, I would understand—assuming men are even capable of such an emotion, of course. But we are both married for a specific reason, and it is not called love."

"You are right, Princess. I am not in love with you," he answered honestly.

"Then..?" Why won't you explain?

Fully aware that he owed me no explanations, he offered his arm. "The night has only just begun. I have no intention of throwing you to the wolves; stay close." And just like that, our words retreated into formality once more. Escorted by him, we mingled with the others. For the most part, we greeted those we were obligated to see as a couple.

Fully aware that he owed me no explanations, he offered his arm. "The night has only just begun. I have no intention of throwing you to the wolves; stay close." And just like that, our words retreated into formality once more. Escorted by him, we mingled with the others. For the most part, we greeted those we were obligated to see as a couple.

After an hour, I left Ambrose alone to discuss matters of politics. He didn't look too favorably upon my decision, but I managed to slip away regardless. I was also a bit frustrated. He leaves me in suspense, treats me with kindness, yet his warmth could be deceiving. One of the younger princesses approached me. This girl was the Emperor's third child, meaning the sister who followed Ambrose and Neven.

"Princess Alisya. It seems my brother has finally managed to tear himself away from you. Please, allow me to introduce you to my dear friends."

"Princess Amorette... I would be honored." With a polite smile, I let her drag me over to her table.

Clearly, eyes had been on me from afar; I felt the atmosphere shift the moment I arrived. "Ladies, this is the wife of my eldest brother, the heir to the throne, General Ambrose—Princess Alisya."

"Deyanira— Ah, forgive me. Princess Alisya, it simply slipped out." She brought her hands to her lips in feigned shock, as if my name would have curse them. There was a faint mockery in her tone. "How are you? You must be well, being our General's first wife." Her pink dress looked pale beneath her blonde hair.

"The troubles always come with the second, but you get used to it by the third."

Amorette's yellowish-green eyes seemed to glaze over with ice. "I was under the impression you ladies were not yet married. Yet you speak as if you have experienced it firsthand. Or have you been doing extensive research, preparing yourself... for the inevitable?"

They fell silent. A princess who hadn't spoken until now took a sip of her drink and turned to me. "You look incredibly beautiful, Princess. Amorette, your brother the General certainly has fine taste. I am sure this ball is going wonderfully for the Princess as well. We wouldn't want to ruin anyone's mood." I would have thought she was offering a fake compliment, but I truly did have a beautiful dress.

"Forget what I just said. I am hosting a tea party this weekend. Princess Amorette and Alisya, I hope you will come too. We can drink tea and chat," the girl in pink said.

Drinking tea and chatting wasn't my thing at all, likely due to what I had experienced in the past. But I had to play the part.

"Sure, we would be delighted, wouldn't we, Princess?"

"Yes... I am certain you will host a lovely party." I smiled. My eyes searched for Ambrose, and the moment they found him, I turned back to the girls. "I hope you are enjoying my ball as well. I wish you a pleasant remainder of the evening." Pivoting on my heels, I left them behind, realizing once again why it was far better to spend the rest of the night by Ambrose's side.