For several days, Lethia did not speak much of the engagement.
She simply listened in silence whenever Duke Julius raised the matter, offering neither refusal nor agreement. Her calm acceptance led the Duke to believe that, perhaps for the first time, his granddaughter would not resist his decision as she always had before.
Aside from this, their conversations remained confined to the affairs of the Duchy governance, estates, and routine matters. The rest of Lethia's time she spent quietly with Elowen.
Yet even with her, Lethia never spoke of the engagement.
She had never been one for comforting words. To her, such words often felt empty unable to mend what truly hurt. Instead, she remained by Elowen's side in silence. They walked through the Duchy together, visited familiar streets, and recalled fragments of old, gentler days.
One afternoon, the three of them Lethia, Elowen, and Serena found themselves inside a bustling dress shop within the town. Noble ladies filled the space, young and old alike, voices blending into a lively hum as silks and fabrics were examined with great interest.
Lethia glanced around at the unusual crowd, then turned toward Elowen, who stood absorbed in inspecting a gown.
"Why is there such a crowd?" Lethia asked dryly. "Are garments to vanish from the Duchy tomorrow?"
Elowen looked up, slightly startled then smiled.
"Oh, sister, you truly are forgetful," she said lightly. "In two months, Princess Lunette is to wed the Crown Prince of Sylvaris. A grand celebration will be held in the capital before her departure... a farewell worthy of a princess. Everyone is preparing for it."
Lethia blinked faintly.
With so much weighing upon her mind, she had indeed forgotten.
"I see…" she murmured. After a pause, she asked, "Will you attend?"
Elowen's expression softened, almost childlike.
"I truly wish to," she said quietly, "but Father will not allow it."
Before Lethia could respond, Serena turned toward her with sudden enthusiasm.
"Lethia, why do we not all attend?" she said. "I have never seen the capital. It would be wonderful."
Lethia looked at them both then sighed faintly, a trace of playful indifference in her voice.
"If the two of you wish to go, then go," she said. "As for me… I have no desire to attend. I dislike mingling with crowds."
Serena shaked her head slightly. Elowen smiled faintly.
By the time they returned to the mansion, evening had settled quietly over the Duchy. Lamps were lit, and a gentle calm filled the sitting room where Lethia, Elowen, and Serena now rested together. Tea had been served, its warmth rising softly into the still air.
For a while, only light conversation passed between them nothing of weight, nothing of worry.
Then the door opened quietly.
Elira entered, holding a sealed letter upon a small silver tray. She approached with respectful composure and bowed slightly.
"My Lady, an invitation has arrived for you."
Lethia looked up, faint surprise crossing her face. It was unusual all correspondence meant for her was ordinarily delivered to her own estate, not here.
"Give it to me," she said calmly.
Elira stepped forward and placed the letter into her hand.
Breaking the seal, Lethia began to read.
At first, her expression remained composed… then a faint smile touched her lips.
The smile deepened.
Lethia laughed.
Softly at first, then more freely until her laughter filled the quiet room.
Elowen and Serena exchanged startled glances, both confused and slightly alarmed.
Serena leaned forward.
"Lethia… what is it?"
Without answering, Lethia extended the letter toward her.
Serena took the letter, and Elowen moved closer, reading beside her.
The message read:
To Lady Lethia,
By the will of Her Imperial Majesty.
You are hereby invited to attend the Grand Farewell Celebration to be held in the Imperial Capital, in honour of Her Royal Highness, Princess Lunette, before her departure to Sylvaris.
Your presence is most particularly desired.
Lady Aurelia Valenwood
Countess of Ravenmere
Chief Lady in Waiting to the Empress
Serena's hands trembled slightly as she lowered the letter.
"Lethia," she said quietly, "this is no simple matter."
Elowen's voice faltered.
"S-Sister… what is this? The Empress herself… inviting you?"
Lethia only smiled calm, amused, almost entertained.
A soft laugh escaped her.
"Elowen", she said lightly, "it seems we are not the only ones who do not wish for my engagement to Lord Hael Valehart to come to pass."
She gave a quiet chuckle and turned her gaze toward Serena.
"I believe… I now know how this engagement may be stopped. Perhaps I need do nothing at all only remain still, and allow others to shatter it for me."
She laughed once more, low and careless and only gazed ahead, faint amusement still lingering upon her lips as though the game had finally begun.
Serena did not smile.
Her expression had grown troubled almost tense.
For she understood something Elowen did not.
When others began to interfere in noble affairs, it seldom came without danger.
And Lethia…
Lethia had never feared consequences.
For years, Serena had watched her walk straight through storms that would have broken others even when the path left wounds that could never be healed.
***
Night had long fallen.
The chamber lay in darkness, lit only by the faint glow of a dying lamp. Silence rested heavily in the room where Lethia and Serena lay side by side upon the bed as they had done since childhood, more like sisters than companions.
Though Serena was but a baron's daughter, Lethia had never once treated her as lesser. Never had she allowed Serena to bow before her, nor had she placed distance between them. To Lethia, Serena had always been family.
Serena turned slightly, eyes open in the dark, sleep far from her reach.
After a long silence, she whispered
"Lethia… I am scared."
For a moment, there was no reply.
Then Lethia slowly opened her eyes.
"It is all right," she said softly. "Such things were bound to happen. You know better than anyone… so long as I breathe, I shall remain a thorn to those tied to me."
Serena's voice trembled.
"Is it… your stepmother's doing again? You have not lived there for five years… yet she still will not let you go…"
Her words faltered, breaking under rising tears.
Lethia could not remember when she herself had last wept.
But Serena had always cried for her, as though mourning in her place for the things... Lethia could not grief for herself.
Unable to hold back, Serena moved closer and wrapped her arms around Lethia from the side, trembling. Lethia gently placed a hand upon her back, patting her slowly, silently.
"What if…" Serena's voice cracked, choked with sobs, "what if she does something again… like five years ago? What am I to do then? Let us not go… please, Lethia…"
Her sobbing would not cease.
And Lethia could do nothing but hold her.
How could she not understand that fear?
She had been only fourteen when it happened.
Six months before she was found.
To others, it was merely half a year but for Lethia, it had been a lifetime of suffering.
Had she not been the granddaughter of a Duke… would they have searched so long?
Though she was rescued, the scars upon her heart had never healed.
Her body was broken.
Bones fractured.
Lips torn.
Wounds deep and merciless.
Serena had seen it all.
And in her heart, she had always known. The hand behind it belonged to one person.
The Marchioness Ophelia Calvane... Lethia's stepmother.
Though no proof had ever been found.
***
Several days slipped by in silence.
The invitation remained a secret, locked between Lethia, Elowen, and Serena unspoken beyond the walls of Lethia's chamber.
Instead, Lethia approached the Duke with a different request.
With composed grace, she expressed a quiet wish that she, along with Elowen and Serena, might accompany Sebastian to the capital for the upcoming grand celebration. She spoke gently of longing to see the capital, of distant curiosity, of a desire to walk beyond the familiar grounds that had held her for so many years.
It was a simple request.
Yet to the Duke, it meant far more.
For years, his granddaughter had lived withdrawn distant, closed, untouched by youthful whims or fleeting desires. And now, for the first time, she asked for something of her own will. How could he refuse?
Permission was granted and with it, a rare warmth lit the old Duke's heart. Perhaps, at last, the child who had long walked in silence was beginning to return to the world.
But not all hearts were at ease.
Serena, though once eager to visit the capital, found no comfort in this decision now. A quiet unease followed her thoughts, heavy and persistent. She knew Lethia too well knew the stillness behind her calm, the danger behind her resolve.
This journey was not as simple as it seemed.
Yet when Serena voiced her fears, Lethia only smiled soft, reassuring, unreadable.
"This time," she promised, "nothing will go wrong. I will have the last laugh."
Whether it was truth… or merely comfort… Serena could not tell.
Elowen, untouched by the shadows surrounding them, remained blissfully unaware. Her heart, still tender from a small and unspoken sorrow, welcomed the journey as a distraction something bright to look toward, something distant from her heartache.
And so, beneath calm skies and unspoken intentions, preparations began.
For in one week's time, they would depart for the capital.
And with that journey…
fate, long patient, began to stir once more.