Two days passed since Alena had stepped through the Count's doors.
The household returned to its usual rhythm—cold glances, quiet cruelty, and whispered laughter that always seemed to follow Ansel wherever he went.
But something had shifted in his mother.
She moved with purpose now, her eyes sharper, her hands steadier. She hadn't told him what happened that day, but he knew. He felt it.
Hope had taken root.
Still, the manor reminded him who he was. The servants never spoke to him. The other children ignored or mocked him.
Especially him—the heir.
Auron Greenal.
The eldest son. The perfect one.
He had graduated from Valeon Magic Academy at the top of his class just last year. Known as the "Azure Flame" of Eldoria, he was a prodigy in both swordsmanship and magic—a dual wielder of fire and steel.
His mana core was born in the color of sapphire, a rare gift even among nobles. His sword, Veylcrest, shimmered with runes etched by the Grand Enchanters of Valoria.
Auron had inherited his father's cold eyes and harsh pride. His long silver hair was tied back into a warrior's knot, and he wore a deep navy uniform laced with gold—a symbol of his elite status.
To the people of Eldoria, he was a symbol of strength and nobility.
To Ansel, he was a silent wall. One that had never once looked at him as a brother.
The last time they crossed paths, Auron hadn't said a word. He had merely walked past, letting his mana flare out just enough to make Ansel stumble and fall.
No words. Just power.
And now, after two days of tension and waiting, the summons came.
Alena had just returned from gathering herbs near the back gardens when a messenger approached, wearing the Count's crest on his shoulder.
"Lady Alena," the man said stiffly. "Count Veron has requested your presence in his study."
She blinked, clutching the herb basket to her chest. "Now?"
"Yes. At once."
Her heart pounded, but she nodded. "Understood."
Ansel tugged her sleeve. "Mother?"
She knelt beside him, brushing a lock of black hair from his face. "It's alright," she whispered. "Stay inside. I'll return soon."
Ansel nodded, but his chest tightened.
Every time she left that part of the manor, it felt like she was walking into another world. A dangerous one.
Alena stood, took a deep breath, and followed the messenger.
As the doors to the Count's chamber closed behind her once more, she wondered—
Had her words broken through?
Or was this the final rejection?