The last of Eishtal's snow still clung to the carriage wheels as the convoy rolled away from Duke Matthias's stone fortress. The cobbled road, blanketed in icy white, groaned under each turn of the wheels, while the northern wind cut through the air, sharp and metallic, like frozen steel on skin.
Inside the carriage, Greta sat wrapped in a luxurious fur-lined coat, handpicked by the Duke himself. Her breath fogged the window beside her, a thin mist blurring the view as she watched the towering spires of Matthias's mansion shrink into the haze. That place held too much: bone-deep cold, suffocating silence, and the beginning of a dangerous bond with the man who ruled the frozen lands of the south.
"Regretting your decision?" Matthias's voice broke the quiet, low, steady, and unreadable.
Greta turned. He sat with arms folded across his chest, calm as ever, like the cold hadn't touched him at all. His crimson eyes locked onto hers, piercing, unflinching. There was nowhere to hide from that gaze.
"No," she said at last, though her throat tightened around the word. "Not even a little. If I'm going to reach my goal, this is the only way."
Matthias smiled, just barely. A flash of teeth, more predator than polite. "You've got my attention, Lady Von Meier."
Greta drew a deep breath, her fingers curling into fists on her lap. She knew exactly what he meant. Every word he spoke was laced with amusement, like her entire revenge plot was just a game to him. And when the game stopped being fun? He could toss her aside. Or worse, burn her down to ash, like firewood in a hearth.
But no matter how threatening Matthias Von Ignaz might be, Greta wasn't backing down. If hell was the price, she'd pay it. Anything was better than reliving the nightmare of betrayal, of losing everything, even the people she once believed were her whole world.
Outside, the horses snorted and stamped, the carriage rumbling westward. Every mile away from Eishtal felt like a countdown, toward something new. Something she'd longed for through every second of her haunted past.
The carriage rocked gently, just enough to bump Greta's arm against the seat. She glanced at Matthias, still unmoved, as if the rhythm of the wheels was nothing more than background music.
"The capital's been a mess ever since the Emperor started hunting for a concubine," Matthias said, breaking the silence again. "He's been touring the provinces, looking for the perfect woman to suit his tastes."
Greta looked up, meeting his eyes once more.
"Word is, His Majesty's using the search as cover to clean house, cutting out nobles who've been slacking off. A few names are already on the chopping block. What do you think? Will they still play nice once he passes you over?"
Greta didn't need to guess. She remembered exactly what had gone down. A handful of nobles had been stripped of their titles, two of them exposed as traitors, selling secrets to the enemy empire. And it had all started with her. She'd fed Maximillian the intel, set the imperial order in motion, and watched the arrests unfold.
But that was then. She wasn't marrying the Emperor now. She wouldn't be there to catch those secret meetings, to pull the strings that brought them down.
She closed her eyes and said, "No."
"No?" Matthias echoed, like he was testing her. "That sounds like a lot of 'no.'"
Greta lifted her gaze again, locking eyes with him. She could feel it, he was trying to say something, but not directly. Matthias Von Ignaz didn't speak like normal people. He made you guess. Made you dig.
"It's not that many, Your Grace," she said, keeping her voice steady despite the pounding on her chest. "If I'm going to rewrite my future, the first step is making sure I don't marry Emperor Dietrich Maximillian. If I fail at that... then there won't be a new future waiting for me. Even if I'm given the chance."
"So you doubt me, Lady Von Meier?"
"Of course not, Your Grace," Greta replied, her voice steady, though a little stiff. "I just need something concrete. Proof of the contract we agreed on. So far, I haven't seen it. Not yet, anyway. Not until we actually reach Ehrenwald."
Matthias's gaze sharpened, like a blade forged in ice. He didn't blink. Didn't give her a single inch to look away. His crimson eyes held her there, trapping her like prey.
"Are you hiding something from me, Lady Von Meier?" His voice was low, almost flat. "In this new life I've so generously handed you?"
Greta had expected this. The threats, the pressure, it was all part of Matthias Von Ignaz's playbook. Every word from him wasn't just a warning. It was a leash. Invisible, but tight around her throat. She knew he'd push like this. She just hadn't realized how relentless he'd be, even from the moment they struck their deal.
She lifted her chin slightly, refusing to flinch. "There's a thousand kilometers between Eishtal and the capital," she said, her tone sharp but controlled. "But that night... you were the only one who heard me scream. The only one who came. And you gave me something I never thought I'd have."
She didn't blink. Her stare was defiant, even as something twisted deep in her chest. "You act like a god for me. So with all that power... do you really think I could hide anything from you, Your Grace?"
Matthias didn't answer right away. The only sound was the crunch of carriage wheels over stone, the wind slipping through the cracks in the window. He leaned back, relaxed, but his eyes stayed locked on hers, weighing every word she'd just thrown at him.
Then, slowly, a thin smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Not warm. Not reassuring. It was the kind of smile that made your skin crawl, half mockery, half admiration he didn't want to admit. And it gave Greta a whole new kind of fear.
"After living as a concubine, you've learned how to speak like a queen," he said quietly, his voice vibrating through the tight space of the carriage. "But a queen who survives on her king's mercy... is still a prisoner. A slave who'll never be honored."
Greta didn't flinch. His words stung, sure, but they only hardened her resolve. Every time Matthias opened his mouth, it was a reminder: she was standing at the edge of a cliff, and he could shove her off at any moment.
He leaned forward slightly, tapping his fingers against the wooden armrest. A slow rhythm, like a countdown.
"You're right, Lady Von Meier. Nothing stays hidden from me. So don't ever think you can try."
Greta took a deep breath, her chest tight. She couldn't tell if that was a confession, a warning, or just another twisted game from a man no one could predict. But one thing was clear: the farther they traveled toward Ehrenwald, the deeper she sank into Matthias Von Ignaz's shadow.
"Have you imagined your father's fury," Matthias asked, voice calm but cutting, "when he finds out you plan to marry me? I hear Ehrenwald's drowning in debt. Failed harvests. People can't pay their taxes. Your province is slipping into obscurity. And marrying the Emperor, wasn't that supposed to be your way out?"
Greta closed her eyes for a moment. Her breath came slow, deliberate, like she was weighing every word.
"That's true, Your Grace," she said finally. "But even if I had married Emperor Dietrich Maximillian... nothing would've changed. Ehrenwald would still be sinking. The people would still be starving. Because the taxes meant to fill our coffers have been bleeding out for years, thanks to the very men my father trusts."
Bitter memories flashed through her mind, faces, names, the officials her father swore by. And the hollow-eyed villagers whose cries never reached the gates of House Von Meier.
Matthias chuckled. Low. Cruel. More mockery than amusement.
"So what you're saying," he leaned in slightly, "is that even marrying the Emperor wouldn't have saved Ehrenwald?"
Greta nodded slowly. Her voice was quiet, but firm.
"As long as my father's inner circle thinks they're untouchable, Ehrenwald will never escape this spiral. That land is teetering on collapse. And if I live long enough to see it... I know the Von Meier name will be stripped of its title. The people will rise. And they'll tear down anyone who stands beside my father."
Matthias leaned back again, eyes sharp. "And me? Why do you think I'm the one who can stop it?"
Greta met his gaze without hesitation.
"I never said you'd save Ehrenwald. That's not your job. My father's greed and cruelty planted this rot long ago. His blind faith in those men would be his undoing. And now, he deserves to reap what he sowed."
"You're planning to betray your own father?" he asked.
"I'm doing what I came here to do," Greta said calmly, her voice like ice.
Matthias stared at her, eyes narrowing like he was peeling back the layers of her mind.
"You do realize," he said slowly, "if word of this ever reaches him, you won't get a second chance. His own daughter, plotting to let him fall into ruin. Doesn't that clash with the life you're about to lead?"
Greta turned her head, meeting his gaze without a flicker of fear.
"I've already died once," she said flatly, her voice barely louder than a whisper, but it echoed through the carriage like a bell. "What could possibly be worse than that? Besides, this second life isn't about fine meals or vintage wine poured by the Emperor's favorite hand. There's more at stake than comfort. And I won't back down just because someone threatens me with death, Your Grace."
Matthias's smile returned, thin, unreadable. But this time, something flickered in his eyes. Admiration. Hunger. A quiet, primal urge to pull Greta closer, hold her tighter, never let go.
"In that case," he said, straightening with icy poise, "let's see if Lady Von Meier turns out to be more dangerous than Eishtal's snow."
Greta didn't answer. She turned to the window, letting the pale light blur her reflection. But behind the glass, her lips curled, just barely. A whisper of a smile. Enough to hint that the strongest hand in the empire, might already be hers.