"I offered a marriage proposal to Sylrick Kartegen at last night's ball."
Anita burst out laughing, clutching her stomach. The other two said nothing, their eyes locked on Kayona.
Kayona's expression didn't so much as flicker.
"Oh— forgive me, Your Grace. I thought you were joking." Anita straightened, though a faint smile still tugged at her lips.
"You know my situation with the Imperial Court," Kayona said evenly. "And I intend to use this marriage to gain firsthand evidence about my parents' deaths."
Anita froze mid-breath, eyes going wide. Maxwell stayed silent, dragging a palm slowly down his face.
"You aren't even sure they're responsible for the Archduke and Archduchess's deaths," Anita blurted. "You probably misheard what that assassin—"
Kayona's hand slid into her desk drawer. In one smooth motion, she drew her gun and leveled it at Anita's chest.
"I should count you as their accomplice," she said coldly, "and send your head straight to their residence. You probably heard that wrong, right?"
Sweat broke across Anita's brow. She bowed low, her voice trembling. "Please forgive me, Your Grace. I misspoke."
Kayona lowered the weapon with a controlled breath. Her gaze shifted to Rael and Maxwell, both still and calm as stone.
"Your Grace," Rael said at last, "have you considered how dangerous this will be? You'd be walking straight into your enemy's territory."
"I've considered it," Kayona replied.
"And you still chose to move forward?" Rael folded his hands on the table.
She turned to Maxwell. "You're not going to say anything?"
"I'm your bodyguard, not your advisor. It's not my place to question your political decisions." His tone was clipped.
"Your face says otherwise."
Maxwell leaned back slightly, frowning. "Has Lord Kartegen agreed to the marriage?"
"He did. On the spot."
Rael's eyes narrowed. "Suspicious, don't you think? Do you believe you can trust him?"
"The marriage will only last two years."
Rael's concern sharpened. "Two years? He agreed to that?"
"He didn't ask for anything in return?" Maxwell asked.
"What he asked is between him and me," Kayona said, her voice final. "The wedding is next month."
"Next month?" they echoed.
Anita, still pale, hesitated. "You think they'll let you roam free once you're in their household?"
"They won't see me coming. I've given them no reason to suspect me. Not one attempt has been made on my life since that day."
Maxwell's brow furrowed. "You'll need more than invisibility. Verristone is their territory. You'll have to play by their rules."
"I've been playing by someone else's rules since I inherited this title," she said quietly. "It's time I set my own."
Anita glanced between them, still wary. "And if the Kartegens really are responsible for your parents' deaths?"
Kayona leaned back in her seat, eyes hardening.
"Then they'll answer with their blood."
✦ ✦ ✦
Kartegen Residence —
The following morning, the estate stirred with the slow rhythm of post-celebration duties. Servants moved through the corridors, carrying away the last traces of the previous night's ball.
Sylrick sat by the tall window in his quarters, one arm resting on the sill, his gaze fixed on the distant road that led toward Obregón. The early light stretched across the fields between their provinces, but his thoughts were still at the ballroom — her voice, her proposal, and the way she'd met his eyes without hesitation. The same steady eyes that had haunted him for years.
He exhaled slowly, resting his temple against the cold stone, and the memory pulled him back—
✦ ✦ ✦
Five years ago, during Kayona's parents' burial.
It was held in one of the secluded gardens at the Obregón duchy. All the ducal houses were in attendance — more out of obligation than cordiality. They all wore their black coats, dropping flowers on the freshly covered graves of the Archduke and Archduchess of Obregón.
Kayona stood apart from the crowd. She had already spent hours crying over the graves and had finally separated herself, slipping away from the throng of mansion owners and guests. She wanted to escape the constant greetings and the empty condolences whispered by noble lips.
Just when she thought she'd found a moment alone, Sylrick appeared at the entrance of the maze, calling for her.
"Kayona!" he called, running toward her.
Kayona heard and knew his voice but didn't bother turning to the sound.
"You better stop and stand exactly where you are," she said coldly.
"Kayona, please, look at me, just let me—"
"Leave!" she yelled, fresh tears flooding her eyes. "I never asked for your pity. You're just pretending to care. Deep down, you're happy to see me like this."
"I am not—" Sylrick started, moving closer.
Kayona turned and glared at him, her eyes nearly bloodshot from the tears she'd shed that day.
"It's all your fault! It's all your family's fault… The next time I see you, Sylrick Kartegen, I will kill you with my bare hands!"
✦ ✦ ✦
The coldness in her voice that day had carved itself into him.
"And yet, last night, she asked me to marry her." He sighed, rubbing his face.
"I told myself before last night's ball that if I ever saw her again, I'd be too afraid to approach her. And yet, when she stood before me, I didn't think twice."
He pushed away from the window, crossed to the wardrobe, and slid open the hidden panel. Inside, neat stacks of cut newspaper pages lay exactly as he had left them.
Five years' worth of pages.
Not full newspapers — just the ones that mattered. Every appearance, every speech, every duty Kayona had performed since she inherited the Archduchess title. Whenever her name appeared in print, he cut the article out and kept it, discarding the rest.
He sat on the edge of the bed and sifted through them, careful not to bend the corners. There she was at a trade summit, shaking hands with a foreign envoy. Another clipping showed her at the docks, overseeing the loading of relief supplies. And then the one he lingered on the longest — Kayona in the courtyard of a provincial orphanage, surrounded by children clutching brightly wrapped parcels.
The image was small, black-and-white, but it was enough to recall her voice:
After we divorce, I'll adopt two toddlers from an orphanage. And raise them to be nobles who actually improve society.
He had stared at that image more times than he could count. He hadn't questioned her for even a moment — he already knew she meant it. He had seen that side of her long before she chose to show it to him.
Replacing the page, he closed the panel and let his hand rest on the smooth wood.
For the nobles at the ball, last night had been a spectacle — her grand return to society.
For him, it had been something else entirely: the moment the distance between them finally began to close.
His fingers traced the grain where the clippings lay hidden. A faint smile tugged at his lips.
"You're not going to leave me again, Kayona."