Two years earlier
Year 984, Imperial City, Kingdom of Polaris
Nyssa stepped into the bustling guild hall of Everlasting Guild—one of the top five guilds in the imperial city—and pulled down her hood. Dark hair caught the lantern light. Sharp features turned more than a few heads, as they did every day.
"Hey, it's Lady Valmont," someone whispered.
"She's even prettier up close."
A few burly men in the corner scowled. One nudged his friend. "Kael's sister, huh? Born lucky."
"Bet she's never worked a day in her life."
Nyssa's lips curved into a polite smile as if she had not heard them. She adjusted the strap of her satchel and walked calmly to the reception desk. Behind her, the whispers continued.
"Can you believe it? Her brother is Theodore Valmont. Adamantine rank. Heir to the family. Legendary-realm adventurer. Half the dukes with daughters are already preparing proposals."
"I heard even the King once inquired about him as a match for one of the princes."
"And look at her—lowest rank in the hall."
Nyssa ignored the sting. She had grown used to it. She approached the desk, tone warm and professional. "Good morning. I'm here to process today's requests."
The clerk, a tall woman with tired eyes, gave her a knowing look. "Good luck with that," she muttered, nodding toward the rapidly forming line.
Male adventurers were already pushing forward, weapons gleaming, expressions softening the moment they saw her.
"Nyssa, could you handle this for me?" a tall warrior asked, leaning over the counter.
"And me!" a mage called, elbowing closer.
Nyssa's smile did not falter. "Of course. One at a time, please."
She worked quickly, sorting forms and stamping approvals. The men were not making it easy.
"You've got such delicate hands," a rogue commented.
"Nyssa, you should let me train you sometime," a spear-wielder offered with a wink.
Nyssa chuckled softly. "Thank you for the offer, but I'm quite busy here."
Behind her, the older clerks exchanged looks. One leaned toward another and muttered, "Every time. It's like they don't even see the rest of us."
"She's pretty, she's a Valmont, and somehow she's still poorer than half the commoners here," the other replied. "Lucky and unlucky at the same time."
A passing assistant manager overheard and added without stopping, "That poverty is half the attraction for some of them."
Nyssa continued working without missing a beat. She had been taught since childhood to carry herself with dignity no matter what others said.
"Excuse me." A soft voice came from the back of the line. A young boy with a bow, cheeks as red as his hair, stepped forward shyly. "Um… Miss… can you help me with this quest form?"
Nyssa nodded kindly. "Of course."
She guided him through the sections, checking the requirements, correcting a small mistake in the ranking box. When she handed the form back, the boy's eyes lit up.
"Thank you," he said, clutching the paper.
Nyssa gave him a small bow. "Good luck on your quest."
By the time the sun began to set, the line finally thinned. Nyssa stretched her shoulders, grateful for a moment's peace. She adjusted her satchel and prepared to leave, carrying herself with the quiet grace expected of a daughter of House Valmont—even if that house had fallen into disgrace centuries ago after a failed rebellion.
Just as she stepped away from the desk, a group of heavily armed warriors strode into the hall. Their armor glinted. Their expressions were grim. The chatter died instantly.
"Nyssa Valmont!" barked the leader, a tall man with a scar running down his cheek.
Nyssa stiffened but stayed composed. "Yes?"
"You're coming with us." He grabbed her arm without waiting for permission.
The clerks behind the counter rose in shock. "Hey—what's this about?" one protested. The warriors ignored him.
"Wait—" Nyssa started. The man yanked her forward. "Who are you?"
Whispers rippled through the hall.
"Looks like trouble."
"Poor girl. What can she do?"
"I wonder where Theodore is…" the assistant manager murmured from the first-floor railing, making no move to intervene.
Nyssa did not resist, though her heart pounded hard against her ribs.
Something was terribly wrong. The way they gripped her arm, the way no one in the hall stepped forward—she felt the floor tilt under her feet. They shoved her into a waiting carriage without ceremony.
The ride was short. When the door opened, she recognized the place at once: the Valmont estate. Vines crept up the walls. Windows were boarded shut. The once-proud mansion looked like a corpse of its former self.
Inside, a woman waited in the parlor, seated on a velvet chair. Jewelry glittered even in the dim light. Sharp eyes locked onto Nyssa as the warriors forced her to her knees.
"Nyssa Valmont," the woman said, voice smooth as silk. "Do you know who I am?"
Nyssa met her gaze and refused to show fear. "No. But I assume you're the one who ordered this."
A faint smile. "Smart. I'm Lyria White, president of the Royal Bank. And I'm here to collect."
"Collect?" Nyssa frowned. "I don't understand."
Lyria tilted her head, still smiling. "Your family has been living on borrowed gold for generations. Father. Grandfather. Great-grandfather. All of them."
"That's impossible. My brother would have—"
"One hundred and twenty-seven million." Lyria's voice stayed light, almost bored. "Including interest."
Nyssa's blood ran cold. "No. Theodore would have told me if—"
"Theodore took the debt after your parents died." Lyria examined her own rings. "Unfortunately, his party was wiped out by the Dragon Lord. Shame."
Nyssa's fists clenched on her knees. "You're lying."
Lyria laughed softly. "Do I look like I joke about money this large?" She leaned forward just enough. "Your brother is gone. You cannot pay with your meagre salary from the guild. Even this entire manor won't cover the interest. So I have no choice but to sell you."
"Sell me?"
"As a slave. Weak, yes. Pretty, very. The auction will be lively."
"You can't—"
"I can. Debtors without collateral become the collateral." Lyria sat back, still smiling. "Even the King doesn't cancel what is owed to the Royal Bank."
Before Nyssa could speak again, the doors burst open.
Royal knights poured in—six-star at the weakest. At their head walked a young woman with shoulder-length silver hair. A seven-star warrior.
"Unhand her," the woman said, voice calm but absolute.
The scarred warriors hesitated.
Nyssa's breath caught. "Eve—"
Princess Eve stepped fully into the room. She never raised her voice. She never needed to. One silver eyebrow arched as she looked at Lyria the way one might look at a stain on expensive silk.
"Move," she told the nearest warrior. When he didn't, she simply walked past him. The knights followed without a word.
Lyria sighed. "The princess herself. What an honor. But this is a private matter, Your Highness."
Eve's gaze flicked over Lyria once. "Nyssa is under my protection. Take your grievance to my father, or leave."
Lyria's smile turned cold. "Fine. Let's see whether His Majesty dares use the monarchy against the Royal Bank."
Eve did not answer. She only held out one gloved hand to Nyssa, palm up, waiting. The gesture was almost lazy, as if the outcome had never been in doubt.
"Come," she said. "We're going."
Nyssa took the hand and rose.
An hour later they stood in the Imperial Palace. The throne room was vast—high ceilings, banners of the royal crest, light falling across polished stone. King Alexander Veyron sat upon a gilded throne. He looked comfortable there, like a man who had already decided the ending of the conversation before it began.
Eve stepped forward and bowed like a knight. "Father. Urgent news regarding Nyssa Valmont."
The King's gaze shifted to Nyssa. A small, almost amused smile touched his mouth. "Nyssa Valmont. I've been expecting you would end up here eventually."
"Your Majesty, I—"
He raised one finger, silencing her gently. "Eve, leave us alone."
Eve hesitated, but she nodded and turned around, walking away.
Soon, the throne room emptied. The doors closed behind the last knight, leaving only Nyssa and the King.
The King rose from his throne and climbed down the stairs. Nyssa quickly went down, one knee touching the floor and her head lowering into a bow.
"Your Majesty. I didn't know anything about the debt, and I refuse to believe that my brother is dead. If you allow me, I…"
"No."
The King interrupted her. "You are the King's Shadow, Nyssa. You cannot forget that."
"But, Your Majesty…"
Nyssa raised her head to look at the King.
The King stared down with a hardened expression. "I will send a scout team to search for your brother's whereabouts. But your worry should be more about your debts."
Before Nyssa reacted, the King continued, "Fortunately for you, your forefathers served the kingdom when it was still bleeding. If not for the fire they lit, House Veyron would never have taken this throne. So, I will make sure to fulfill that debt."
Hope flickered across Nyssa's face. "Then… you'll help me, Your Majesty, with the sum?"
King Alexander's smile widened a fraction, but it never reached his eyes. "Certainly, but not for free. After all, the sum is huge. If I have to shoulder the debts of House Valmont, I will have to justify it to the court."
He leaned forward. The entire room seemed to lean with him.
"Marry five of my sons, Nyssa. All except the second—he would refuse even if I ordered it. Accept, and the royal family pays your debt in full as dowry."
Silence.
Nyssa's mind went blank for a heartbeat. Then the words landed.
"M-marry… five of them?"
The King watched her, patient and faintly entertained, as if he had just placed a particularly interesting piece on a board.
"You already know our kingdom's customs. Due to the overwhelming population of men compared to women, a woman of status like you may marry multiple husbands, provided they share the same blood." He tilted his head. "As for now, you are the last of Valmont. And my sons are of the royal house. Accept this alliance, and the royal family pays your bet."
Nyssa's hands had curled into fists at her sides.
She looked up. Her voice came out quieter than she intended.
"And if I refuse, Your Majesty?"
The King's smile did not change.
"Then the Royal Bank will have the right to sell you. Since they have the strength to do it and I cannot get involved, sooner or later, your strength will be exposed. And you will no longer be the King's Shadow."
Silence filled the throne room.