The next morning arrived not with golden sunlight, but with gray skies and heavy air, as though the world itself conspired to smother any breath of hope. I welcomed it. There was comfort in such quiet oppression. It mirrored the weight in my chest.
The silken robes I wore scratched against my skin, fine embroidery hiding the rawness beneath. I stared at my reflection in the polished glass — a noble young heir with midnight-black hair neatly bound, violet eyes calm and unreadable.
A perfect lie.
"Young master Leonhart," the old steward, Varick, murmured outside my chamber. "The Marquis requests your presence in the solar."
Of course he does.
Father's summons were never invitations. They were commands.
I flexed my fingers once before I replied, voice smooth. "Tell him I will attend shortly."
Varick's shadow lingered behind the door longer than necessary. Spying, no doubt. Measuring my tone for weakness. I filed that away. Another servant too loyal to the Marquis, not to me. Another piece that would one day need to be moved — or removed.
I finished adjusting my collar and left the room without a sound.
The corridors of the mansion stretched long and empty. Gilded frames of dead ancestors leered down at me with painted eyes, judging, whispering. They had ruled once — cruel men and colder women — before their bones turned to dust and their names became mere titles I was expected to uphold.
I smiled faintly as I walked.
Their time had passed. Mine had only begun.
The solar was bathed in weak light when I entered, its tall windows overlooking the estate's southern gardens — a view meant to inspire pride. But my father's back was turned to it, as always.
Marquis Reinhardt Von Krauss stood tall despite his graying hair, shoulders broad beneath his crimson mantle. Power radiated from him, like a blade half drawn from its sheath.
"Leonhart," he said without looking at me. "You were seen speaking to Lady Evelyne yesterday."
I inclined my head. "Yes, Father. I merely offered her congratulations on her recovery."
"A recovery that is convenient." He turned, sharp eyes piercing mine. "She was weak, fragile, a discarded pawn… and now suddenly, she rises? A threat again?"
I met his gaze without flinching. "I saw no threat. Only a girl eager to reclaim lost standing."
His lip curled. "Do not play the fool. That girl is a viper. Her house may be broken, but vipers bite hardest when cornered."
Interesting. So even Father felt the shifting winds.
That was useful.
"I will watch her closely, as you command," I said, lowering my eyes just enough to feign obedience.
Reinhardt grunted. "Good. Our family cannot afford loose ends. The ducal succession is fragile enough. Too many young fools already whisper about alliances, rebellions… the empire weakens by the year."
His hand clenched the golden lion seal at his belt.
"And you, my son, will not bring shame upon our house. I raised you better than that."
Of course. Always about the house, the name, the legacy.
Never about me.
I bowed. "I understand, Father."
He dismissed me with a flick of his hand, turning back to the window as though I were nothing more than another piece of furniture in his grand design.
As I left the solar, my steps slowed.
Outwardly, I appeared composed. Inwardly, a fire coiled tighter in my chest.
So, Father feared Evelyne now. That meant her plans were moving faster than I'd expected. Perhaps she, too, had begun gathering her pawns while I schemed in my corner of the board.
Good. Let her grow stronger.
It would make our eventual clash all the more satisfying.
Later, in the old eastern wing — long abandoned by the main family — I found my next recruit.
Luther.
Once a promising knight, now discarded after losing his hand in a border skirmish. Left to rot among the estate's forgotten guards.
He knelt in the dust, struggling to bind a wooden practice sword to the stump where his right hand once was.
Pathetic, some would say.
I saw potential.
"Luther," I called softly.
His head snapped up, eyes wary. "Young master…?"
I stepped into the training yard, the cracked flagstones crunching underfoot. "I have a proposition for you."
He scowled. "If this is pity—"
"It is not." I let a sliver of cold steel enter my voice. "I offer you purpose. A place at my side when I rise. Serve me, and I will see you restored. Better than you ever were."
Luther's breathing quickened. "Restored…? I'm crippled. Broken—"
"So am I," I whispered.
His eyes widened.
I crouched beside him, meeting him eye to eye. "But broken blades can be reforged. Sharper. Deadlier. All it takes… is will."
For a long moment, silence stretched between us.
Then, slowly, Luther bowed his head. "I will serve, my lord."
The first true pawn on my board.
That night, as shadows lengthened, I stood on my balcony again.
But this time, I wasn't alone in my scheming.
Far across the estate, in her own tower chamber, Evelyne stared at the same darkened skies.
She remembered, too.
Evelyne's POV
The dreams had returned.
Flashes of the past — my humiliation, my disgrace, the whispers behind fans and closed doors. The weight of failure crushing my chest.
But now, there were new dreams.
Visions of standing above them all, their mouths silenced, their proud faces bowed.
I gripped the edge of my balcony until my knuckles turned white.
Leonhart… he had changed. I could feel it in the way he spoke, the way his eyes lingered just a moment too long.
Did he know? Did he suspect that I, too, had begun weaving my web?
No matter.
If he sought to rise, then so would I. And when the time came, only one of us would stand at the summit.
Her reflection in the glass showed a girl with silver hair and crimson eyes that gleamed in the dark.
No longer weak. No longer the discarded fiancée.
Soon, the empire would remember the name Evelyne Rosenthal.
Back to Leonhart
As the cold wind bit into my skin, I allowed myself a thin smile.
The pieces were moving.
Evelyne, my tragic counterpart, rose from her ashes even as I built my empire from the forsaken.
Neither of us yet knew the full extent of the other's awakening.
But soon…
The dance would begin in earnest.
And when the final note played, only ruins would remain — and from those ruins, I would rise.
Not as a prince.
Not as a hero.
But as the villain they all deserved.