The letter was written on the finest parchment, the ink bold and unwavering, each stroke carrying an undeniable sense of authority. Though only a few lines long, it bore the heavy weight of the family name, making it difficult to breathe.
Elise,
I have watched you grow and know you to be a kind and sensible young woman. I am not unaware of your feelings for Adrian, nor have I ever doubted your character. If I were to entrust my son to you, I could rest assured.
However, you must understand that Adrian carries the bloodline of this family. This is not a matter of personal bias but the unyielding rules of our lineage, a constraint upheld by the nobility for centuries. Your birth, ultimately, determines that you will never truly be a part of this world.
Since Adrian has made his choice, I will not stand in his way. You may be together, and I will not interfere. However, from this moment on, Adrian will no longer be the heir to this family. He will lose the support of our house. His future will be his own responsibility.
This is his choice. I hope he will not regret it.
The letter bore Edgar's distinctive seal, unbroken and intact, proving it had been delivered directly to Elise. There was no reproach in its words, no hint of threat. On the surface, it was even gentle—offering Adrian the freedom to choose and granting Elise the acknowledgment she longed for.
But Alia immediately saw through its true intent. Her fingers tightened slightly, and her gaze darkened.
This was not permission. It was a test. A calculated push.
Edgar understood people too well. He did not explicitly oppose the relationship, nor did he criticize Elise's background. Instead, he used the gentlest approach to place the choice in their hands. But if Elise truly loved Adrian, she would never allow him to lose everything for her sake. Edgar did not need to issue commands or forcibly separate them—Elise, out of guilt and self-reproach, would withdraw on her own.
Everything was under Edgar's control.
Alia silently studied the letter, a complex emotion stirring within her. She was not truly Livia, nor had she grown up in a noble family. But she had spent years navigating the streets, long accustomed to the subtleties of human nature. She knew Edgar's type well—men who did not need to raise their voices or use brute force. A simple maneuver, a slight nudge, and events would unfold exactly as they wished.
She turned to Elise. The girl's fingers unconsciously clutched the hem of her dress, her eyes red-rimmed, clearly shaken. Alia sighed softly, understanding Elise's struggle and pain.
This was Edgar's true aim—to make Elise give up on her own.
Elise kept her head down, twisting the fabric between her fingers. Her gaze flickered, betraying her inner turmoil. Her lips trembled as if suppressing something, but in the end, she said nothing to refute the letter's words.
Alia exhaled lightly, rubbing her temple before speaking, her tone both firm and exasperated. "So you plan to run away? Without asking him? You're just going to leave without even knowing what Adrian thinks?"
Elise's shoulders trembled slightly, but she slowly shook her head, her voice hoarse. "No… I don't dare ask. I don't know what he'll decide after learning all this… If he chooses to let me go, I will accept it. I'll be relieved, even—at least he'll have a brighter future… But if he still wants to be with me, then I… I'll feel guilty, I'll be in pain…" She took a deep breath, her fingers tightening further. "Because it would mean that I'm the reason he lost his place as heir. I'm the one who ruined his path…"
Alia frowned even deeper, letting out a scoff as she cut Elise off. "My brother is not that weak."
Elise looked up at her, startled.
Alia met her gaze directly, her words resolute. "Inheritance isn't something given—it's something fought for. The future of this family is far from settled. I'm already married out, our younger sister is lost in her own world, completely uninterested in family matters. As for Father's new wife, her child isn't even born yet. There are too many variables at play." She paused, her voice gaining even more conviction. "More importantly, do you really know what Adrian wants? The family name? Power? Wealth? Status? Those are nothing but illusions. Do you truly believe he would trade you for them?"
Elise's lips parted slightly as if to argue, but in the end, she remained silent.
Seeing this, Alia's lips curved into a faint, knowing smile. "I believe what he truly wants… is simply to be with you."
Elise's expression wavered, the despair and guilt in her eyes flickering with a faint light. She bit her lip, her voice unsteady. "Then… then what should I do?"
Emma, who had been silently observing, finally revealed a knowing smile. She had expected someone like Livia—born into nobility—to have some degree of class prejudice. Yet, to her surprise, Livia showed none of it. She firmly supported Elise and Adrian's love, something rarely seen in noble circles. Emma's gaze lingered on Livia for a moment longer, a newfound admiration mixed with an emotion she couldn't quite name.
Alia met Elise's hesitant gaze, her expression still composed, even letting out a soft chuckle. "Instead of overthinking everything here, why don't you go ask Adrian yourself?" She leaned forward slightly, her tone calm but carrying an undeniable force. "Don't turn this into some tragic self-sacrificial drama. Love is a decision for two people—not something you should decide alone."
Elise flinched slightly, her fingers tightening around her dress. She was still uneasy.
Seeing this, Alia's tone suddenly lightened, an amused smirk tugging at her lips. "Besides, don't forget—my foolish brother has been spoiled his whole life. If he finds out you're planning to disappear without a word, he'll probably tear the whole castle apart looking for you."
At these words, the conflicted emotions in Elise's eyes wavered before finally softening. A tiny, almost imperceptible smile surfaced, as if, for the first time in a while, she had found a sliver of courage.