The Carter mansion's garden held its breath. Beneath ivy-clad arches, the lilacs' scent felt heavier, as if even the flowers were waiting, tense, for what was about to unfold. Emily walked beside Lusian Douglas, her steps measured, her face serene… yet inside, she felt as though she were fracturing, each heartbeat threatening to split her entirely.
Lusian stopped in front of the white marble fountain, its water reflecting the gray sky like a dull, unyielding mirror. He did not look at her at first, instead studying the ripples as though the reflection offered a safer confession than the young woman standing before him.
"Lady Carter," he said at last, his voice firm, yet threaded with a sorrow that sought no sympathy. "I do not wish to continue this engagement."
The words landed like a blade. Emily felt the ground tilt beneath her, a cold chill freezing her breath.
"E-excuse me…?" she whispered, disbelief making her voice tremble.
Lusian's gaze lingered on the water, avoiding her eyes. "It is nothing personal," he continued, careful, precise. "I simply believe… that we would both be better off following separate paths. I do not seek a union forced upon us, nor an engagement born of convenience."
Time seemed to stop. Emily pressed her fingers against the lace of her dress, holding her breath, forcing composure. She could not—would not—show fear, even as it gripped her like iron.
"I understand, Young Master Douglas," she said, courtesy intact, though each word carried the weight of unspoken reproach. "Even so… such a sudden decision could be misinterpreted. Noble houses… are always under scrutiny."
Lusian blinked. He had not fully considered the weight of social perception.
"Misinterpreted?"
Emily lowered her gaze just enough to hide her trembling lips, maintaining dignity without yielding.
"Yes, my lord. A change of this magnitude could affect the reputations of both families… especially mine. I beg you… grant me some time."
For the first time, Lusian looked at her fully. Surprise and caution mingled in his expression. He understood the danger she represented to his future… yet in her resolve, something made him lower his guard, just a fraction.
Emily took a careful step closer. Her dark eyes shone with determination—a woman standing before her fate, unbowed.
"I promise I will give you no cause for dissatisfaction," she said gently, yet firmly. "Allow me… to prove that I am worthy of standing by your side. That I can be the wife you deserve."
Her plea was in her eyes, her restrained breath, the dignity she clung to despite fear.
Lusian blinked, caught off guard. She was not a child begging; she was a woman confronting an abyss. And he—aware that he might be facing the one destined to kill him in the future—felt a mix of caution and reluctant fascination.
"Lady Emily…" he murmured, his tone softening. "You do not have to prove anything."
"Even so…" she interrupted, a trembling yet unwavering smile on her lips. "Let me try. If, after some time, your decision does not change, I will accept it without objection. But until then… please allow me to show that I can meet you, at your level."
The wind stirred the lilacs, teasing her hair and skirt. For a moment, Lusian did not see a count's daughter, but a woman facing destiny with grace. He knew he had to remain vigilant.
Finally, he nodded. "Very well, Lady Carter. I will not decide yet."
Emily curtsied flawlessly, concealing the tremor in her breathing. "Thank you for your understanding, my lord. I will not disappoint you."
They returned to the mansion in silence. The flowers seemed to bow in their wake, the gray sky softening the light as if the world itself were holding its breath.
Only when she crossed the threshold and the echo of her footsteps faded did Emily whisper to herself:
"Just a little time… that is all I need."
The Douglas carriage wheels disappeared into the mist, leaving silence heavy in their wake. Emily barely maintained her composure until the door closed behind her. Then, alone, the weight of the visit crashed down.
She sank to the floor, hiding her face in her hands. Tears flowed freely, mixed with a cold, nameless fear. Every thought was a silent reminder: the Douglas do not forgive, and Lusian—though he seemed kind—was still of that ruthless bloodline.
Moments later, her mother, Emma Pierce, entered, kneeling beside her.
"Emily… my daughter, calm down, please," she whispered.
Emily clung to her mother, trembling, silent but for the sobs that shook her body.
Downstairs, the main hall was steeped in tension. Count Daniel Carter, his eldest son Manuel, and Alejandro Jones—a close family friend—remained silent, faces grim. They understood the magnitude of the threat: the Douglas were feared throughout the kingdom for cruelty and for never tolerating insult.
The dreaded day had arrived.
Two months prior, the Douglas Duchy had announced their intention to formalize the engagement between Lusian Douglas of Mondring, second son of Duke Laurence Douglas, and Emily Carter. Since then, the mansion had lived under a shadow of anxiety. Rejecting a Douglas proposal was unthinkable—a sentence often indistinguishable from death.
Everyone knew it. Alejandro Jones, especially. At nineteen, he carried a past steeped in blood: his family had been exterminated by Damian Douglas eighteen years earlier. Only he survived, rescued by Sir William Lion. Since then, he had grown under the protection of the Carters, loyal and vigilant.
The blue banner of the winged serpent haunted his memory. One day, I will finish what my father could not. That vow kept him standing; the thought of Emily in danger sharpened it into steel.
The silence stretched until Manuel broke it.
"Father… we must ask His Majesty to annul this engagement."
Count Daniel's gaze was weary. "Son, doing so would prove we are weak. And weak families… do not survive."
"But they're the Douglas!" Manuel snapped, voice cracking. "They act with impunity! Massacres, villages destroyed… and no one says a word! Why must we bow? We are one of the thirteen great houses—we have rights!"
Daniel sighed, glass in hand. "I know. But the kingdom cannot risk civil war. If the other houses rose against the Douglas and won… the cost would be chaos. The king prefers to keep the Douglas as a necessary evil than lose the entire realm."
"And Emily?" Manuel pressed, desperation clear. "Will we hand her to that demon without a fight?"
Daniel closed his eyes. "Manuel… we are nobles. Nobles have duties. Emily will do what must be done—for her family, for the kingdom's stability."
"But it's not fair," Manuel whispered.
Soft footsteps interrupted them. Emily and her mother descended. Her eyes were swollen, yet her posture remained regal. She embraced her brother gently.
"I'm fine, Manuel," she murmured, voice trembling just enough.
Daniel looked at her, sadness in his eyes. "What did he say, my daughter?"
Emily lowered her gaze. "Lusian… said he wants to cancel the engagement."
A frozen silence gripped the hall.
Not relief. Terror.
Emma pressed a hand to her chest. Manuel paled. Alejandro's jaw tightened. All knew what it meant: a Douglas does not cancel an engagement—they eliminate the problem.
Daniel froze briefly, then took his daughter's hands, cold as marble.
"Emily… you must do everything to earn his affection. Do not allow this engagement to be broken. For the family… for our honor."
Emily nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. "I will, Father. I will prove… I am worthy of being his wife."
Daniel held her tightly, hiding despair. "Forgive me, my daughter. Forgive me for failing to protect you."
She offered a gentle, hollow smile. "There is nothing to forgive. This… is my duty."
From the corner, Alejandro watched, fists clenched. Every word reminded him of his helplessness. While the others wept quietly, one certainty burned in his heart:
Sooner or later… the Douglas would pay.