Deep in the damp, forgotten undercroft beneath the capital's lower district, the shadows hung heavy and suffocating. A single tallow candle flickered on a stone table, casting long, jagged shapes across walls dripping with moisture.
Ruby stood before a map of the Arden estate, her fingers digging so violently into the parchment that her nails tore through the paper.
Her breath came in ragged, bitter hitches. Every tavern rumor, every whispered mockery in the noble salons of Edrath echoed in her mind like a physical blow. The gossip had reached a fever pitch following the announcement of the triune marriage. High society laughed openly at her expense—the discarded duchess, the ambitious woman who had abandoned her own powerful house and sacrificed her seat in the adventurer guilds, all for a man who had never spared her a second glance.
The resurfaced secrets of the past burned worst of all. They spoke of Sora's quiet, enduring connection to Lucien, a bond that had existed right beneath her nose while she was left to play the part of a bitter, temporary substitute. They spoke of her disgrace, her exile from the ducal house, and the tragic irony of her sacrifice.
And then there was Tristan.
Her own flesh and blood looked at her with polite, cold unfamiliarity, clinging instead to the soft-spoken phantom who had returned from wherever he was.
"Cassian," she spat, the name tasting like ash and lye on her tongue.
In her eyes, it was not her own blind ambition or reckless cruelty that had undone her. It was Cassian Valemont. He was the root of her humiliation. He was the one who had drawn Lucien's devotion, ruined her standing, and stolen her son's mind, claiming Tristan as his own while she was dragged away like a hysterical madwoman.
Before she had surrendered her freedom to the Arden name, Ruby had been a force to be feared. She had led guilds, commanded mercenaries, and navigated lethally complex networks of power with ruthless intelligence. She had traded those weapons for a noble title that had dissolved into dust.
Slowly, Ruby opened a heavy iron-bound chest sitting at her feet. Inside lay old tokens from her past life—dormant guild seals, black-market contracts, and a small, silver vial containing an ancient, colorless liquid known as Aether-Bane. A single drop could permanently sever a wielder's mana core, rotting their vitality from the inside out until their body collapsed under its own weight.
"You took my status, my husband, and my son," Ruby whispered into the dark, her eyes burning with an unhinged, venomous resolve.
"You think you will sit on that ceremonial dais and claim everything I sacrificed my life for?"
A cold, cruel smile stretched across her face as she picked up the silver vial, tucking it securely into her cloak.
Cassian believed the realm was finally at peace. He believed the estate was finally whole. But Ruby was going to ensure that before the winter thaw arrived, the beloved prince would suffer a fate far worse than death—and she would watch every second of his undoing.
*****