Funny how the past has a way of crawling back when you least want it to.
Maria Frost... that name still sounds wrong to me. She wasn't Maria Frost when I first met her. Back then, she was just Maria—a quiet, nameless commoner with dirt under her nails and the kind of internal fire that didn't belong in a place like the Royal Academy.
I looked at the girl who had finally let her mask drop.
She was a commoner—born with nothing, yet she clawed her way up to the Royal Academy through sheer talent. A rare prodigy in the art of alchemy. The kind of girl who spent more nights with flasks and runes than she ever did with people. Her dedication bordered on obsession; alchemy was her world, her identity, her pride.
And for a while, it was all she needed—until the night she met Lucas Stout.
It happened by chance. One night, after a long session in the alchemy lab, Maria was returning to her dorm. The corridors were silent, dimly lit by flickering mana lamps. The smell of potions still clung to her hands—bitter herbs, iron, and ash.
That's when she saw him.
Lucas.
He was a mess. His uniform torn, his lip split, bruises blooming across his skin—no doubt the result of my handiwork, back when the original Evan Ravenshade was still in control. She hesitated first, almost turned away, not wanting to interfere with others' struggles. But kindness is a weakness that's hard to kill.
She knelt beside him and offered a small glass vial—one of her homemade healing potions. The liquid shimmered faintly green under the corridor light. He drank it, and that moment—that fleeting act of mercy—set everything in motion.
Lucas, with his usual charm, returned a few days later to thank her. Then again. And again. Their exchanges grew from polite gratitude to casual conversation. Then, to something gentler.
Maria eventually showed him her garden—a small, hidden patch of life behind the alchemy wing. She grew herbs, flowers, and rare reagents there for her potions. It was her secret world, one untouched by the cruelty of noble society. And somehow, Lucas became part of it.
They tended that garden together, day after day. He helped her trim leaves, pull weeds, carry soil. She taught him the basics of potioncraft, laughing when he burned a batch or mislabeled a flower. It was simple, almost innocent—but in a world built on hierarchy, simplicity like that was a rebellion.
That garden became their sanctuary.
It was where she could forget the whispers of "commoner" behind her back.
Where he could forget the bruises, the humiliation, the weight of expectations.
Where they both could be... just human.
But peace never lasts. Not in that academy. Not under my shadow.
When the original Evan Ravenshade—I—found out, it wasn't just curiosity that drove me. It was disgust. The sight of a filth and a commoner finding comfort in each other was an insult to everything I believed in. I told myself that. But if I'm being honest, there was something darker beneath it.
Jealousy. Contempt. Maybe even envy.
Originally, my hatred toward Lucas was fueled by his persistence—his shameless pursuit of Emilia, my fiancée.
But by the time I discovered that garden, that motive had long since decayed. It wasn't about Emilia anymore. It wasn't about family honor or noble pride.
It was about control.
It was about seeing something pure—and destroying it, just because I could.
So I did.
I destroyed their sanctuary.
The night I went there, the air smelled of rain and soil. The garden was quiet, peaceful—and it made me sick. My men trampled through it without hesitation.
Flowers that had taken months to grow were crushed into the mud. Glass jars shattered underfoot. The little fence was torn apart.
And when the flames rose, swallowing the remnants of their refuge, I remember thinking: Now they'll understand.
But it wasn't enough. I wanted to make sure Maria never returned to him—that she'd never even dare to.
So I turned her world against her. I whispered to her classmates, offered favors and coin, fed them lies until her reputation was dirt. Rumors spread like wildfire—that she seduced Lucas, that she used her alchemy for manipulation, that she was a fraud.
The academy, ever eager to feed on scandal, isolated her completely.
No one spoke to her. No one helped her. Even the professors looked the other way.
And Lucas? He tried to defend her at first. But pressure changes people. He stopped coming. He stopped seeing her.
All because of one act of kindness.
Her eyes, once calm and carefully guarded, now burned with raw anger and hatred. Her hands trembled—uncertainty, fear, and fury twisting together—yet she still clutched my collar, refusing to let go.
Tears slid down her cheeks, but her gaze... her gaze was pure venom.
"Hmm, Maria, Maria," I murmured, a slow smile curling across my face. "How much you've changed, huh? You even managed to get yourself a surname. Did the Frost family adopt you after seeing your little spark of alchemy talent? Quite the desperation, I see." I leaned in, voice low, almost mocking. "You've changed so much on the outside that I can't even recognize you, but deep down... you still remain the same broken, pitiful thing."
"You... you insufferable monster," she spat, her voice trembling between rage and sorrow.
"Hahaha," I chuckled, the sound cutting through her words. "Quite the mouth you've got now."
"Why… why did you come back again?"
Maria's voice trembled as she stared at me, her fingers clutching my collar with trembling force. "Didn't you make me miserable enough? Did you come back for more—just to satisfy your twisted sense of pleasure?"
"Maria, Maria," I said softly, almost like a lullaby, a mockery laced with poison. "What kind of man do you think I am? I'm only here to see how my cute little kitten has been doing all these time."
Her eyes flared. "After all this, you still have the gall to say that?" She recoiled slightly, her breath unsteady, but her hands refused to let go. "Not even an ounce of shame, not even a flicker of guilt. You hide your nature well, Evan Ravenshade. Do you really feel pleasure in tormenting others? What feels so good about it?"
"My, my, such emotions." I tilted my head, feigning thought, pretending to savor her anger. "But say," I continued, my smile curving with cruelty, "let's say I find it—a flutter, like butterflies in my stomach. I feel the rush, that pleasant thrill when I see others crumble before me. It's… exciting, in a way."
"You're disgusting," she hissed, tears forming in her eyes, though she refused to look away.
"But my dear kitten," I said, lowering my voice until it turned almost intimate, "you were never meant to be part of it."
I raised my hand and brushed her tear-stained cheek with the back of my fingers. She flinched instantly, trying to slap my hand away, but her fragile wrists couldn't muster the strength.
"You were never in my field of view," I murmured, my tone almost regretful—but it was all theater. "The only reason you got caught in that mess was because of your own mistake. You let your guard down. You let someone in when you shouldn't have. You broke your own walls, Maria. And for that, you paid the price."
Her lips quivered. "And you think you had the right to decide that? To decide who I talk to, who I trust, who I help?"
"Yes," I said sharply, cutting through her defiance. "Yes, I do. I have every right. Every fucking reason!"
The mask slipped, arrogance spilling out like venom. "Who do you think I am? I am Evan Ravenshade. I decide who lives, who falls, who thrives, who rots. I am the one who stands above, watching the rest crawl beneath! That's how this world works! That's how society functions! The strong dictate, the weak obey!"
I stepped closer, letting every word drip with arrogance. "The few at the top—the strong, the powerful—decide everything. They are the judge, the jury, the executioner. The rest of you just follow their will."
"You..." Her voice broke as she looked at me, trembling. "You're insane."
"Insane?" I laughed quietly, almost mockingly. "No, Maria. I'm just realistic."
Her glare sharpened, but her voice quivered. "You made my life miserable for all this time. You destroyed everything I had. And for what? Because I dared to help someone?"
"Hmm, say whatever you like." I shrugged carelessly. "But doesn't it make things better for you, in the end?"
"Better?" she repeated, bitterly. "You ruined me!"
"Ruined you?" I smiled faintly and gestured to her surroundings. "Look at you now. The daughter of the Frost family. A renowned alchemist. Living in wealth and comfort. That doesn't look ruined to me."
I leaned forward slightly. "Tell me, Maria, did Jeremy Frost adopt you because of your talent—or because he saw a good business investment? Knowing him, I'd bet it was the latter."
Her lips trembled, anger flashing through her gaze. "Don't you dare talk about him."
"Oh, I see. Struck a nerve?" I taunted, my voice soft but cutting. "He found you during that alchemy competition, didn't he? When all those nobles came to watch, and your work caught his eye."
I chuckled lightly. "He saw your potential. Investigated your background. Learned what you'd gone through. And then he offered you a hand—to make you his 'daughter,' his prodigy. And you accepted immediately, didn't you?"
Her fists clenched. "I… I didn't have a choice."
"Of course you didn't." My tone turned almost pitying. "You were desperate. Broken. Surrounded by whispers, mockery, and isolation. You weren't looking for success—you were looking for salvation. For someone, anyone, to pull you out of your misery. And when he offered, you took it without hesitation."
"Stop it," she whispered.
"You took his name," I continued mercilessly. "Maria Frost. A name you thought would bury your pain. A name to erase who you used to be. You told yourself you'd start anew—that the past would never catch you again."
I smiled faintly, cruelly. "But the thing about scars, Maria, is that even when they heal, they never really fade. You can cover them, disguise them, but you'll always feel them beneath your skin."
Her voice trembled, caught between fury and grief. "You have no right to say any of this."
"Maybe," I murmured, meeting her gaze without flinching. "But tell me—if you really buried the past, why do you still tremble when you see me?"
Maria froze, her breath catching. Tears welled in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.
"You see?" I said softly, almost tenderly. "You can change your name. You can change your house. But you'll never change the truth that once upon a time, you were mine to break."
Her hand finally fell from my collar. The silence that followed was cold and suffocating.
And for the briefest moment, as I looked into her eyes—those trembling, defiant eyes—I couldn't tell whether the thing twisting in my chest was amusement… or something dangerously close to guilt.
Maria stood there, her hands trembling, eyes glistening with unshed tears. The silence between us stretched — heavy, suffocating — as if the air itself refused to move.
I took a step forward, voice calm and low.
"So, Maria… just so you know, I'd like to remind you of something."
Her shoulders stiffened at the sound of her name. I smiled faintly — that small reaction alone was satisfying.
"The kindness you showed that day," I said softly, almost wistful, "to that boy… Lucas." Her head twitched slightly at the name. "The one for whom you suffered so much — the one who became the reason for all of this."
I tilted my head, mock curiosity slipping into my tone. "Where is he now?"
No response. Only the faint sound of her uneven breathing.
"I don't see him around, do I?" I continued, my voice dropping a little lower. "Did he come to you when you were this miserable? Did he ever return when you needed someone the most?"
I gave a small laugh — not out of joy, but something darker, sharper. "Or did he just run away… like everyone else?"
Maria's eyes flickered with something — maybe pain, maybe anger — but she kept her head down, as if refusing to give me the satisfaction of seeing her break again.
"Look at me, Maria," I said quietly.
She didn't move.
"I said, look at me."
Slowly, unwillingly, her head lifted. Her eyes met mine — wide, trembling, filled with everything she tried to suppress. Hatred. Fear. Grief.
"Look at what you've become," I whispered, stepping closer until our breaths nearly brushed. "All that suffering, all that torment, all because of one simple act — because you decided to show kindness to a stranger."
Her lips parted, but no words came out.
"No, no, I'm not blaming him," I said, my tone softening into something almost human — but only almost. "I'm not blaming Lucas. Nor the academy. Nor the nobles who mocked you. I'm not even blaming the world itself."
I leaned closer, my voice a whisper that crawled into her ears.
"It's all because of me."
Her breath hitched, the air trembling between us.
"Every bit of hatred you hold, every ugly emotion twisting inside that fragile heart — all of it is mine," I said, my words deliberate, cruel. "I built it. I carved it into you, piece by piece, until it became part of who you are."
Her eyes glistened again, tears finally threatening to fall. "And you're proud of that?" she whispered, her voice shaking. "Do you really think that makes you powerful?"
"Powerful?" I smiled faintly. "No. It makes me real."
Maria took a step back, but I followed.
"I am the one who brought the storm into your life, Maria," I murmured. "And I am the only one who can take it away. Remember that."
My tone hardened, my words cutting through her trembling resolve. "I will be the man you hate… and eventually, the one you come to love. The one you'll obsess over — unable to escape, unable to live without."
Her face twisted with disbelief and rage. "Do you really think I'd ever feel anything for you?" she snapped, her voice cracking mid-sentence. "The only thing left inside me is hate — nothing else. Hate for you and everything you stand for!"
"Ah, hate," I said softly, almost admiringly. "Such a powerful feeling. You think it's far from love, but it's not. Both consume you. Both make you dream of the same person every night. Both keep you from forgetting."
I reached out, brushing a lock of her hair aside despite her flinch. "And that's why you'll never truly escape me."
Her eyes burned with fury as she slapped my hand away.
"If not for bumping into you," she hissed, her voice trembling, "if not for that damn alley, I would've never been dragged into this nightmare. You should've just stayed out of my life, Evan!"
I chuckled, low and amused. "Ah, Maria… you still don't understand, do you?"
My tone softened again, but my smile only grew colder. "You've tangled yourself too much in my web to get out now."
She glared up at me, shaking her head. "You think you've trapped me, but you're wrong. One day, I'll—"
"Fufufu." My laugh cut her off, light and cruel. "Let's just see, shall we? How much of you will still remain by the end of it all?"
Her lips trembled. "You're a monster," she whispered.
"Perhaps," I said with a faint shrug. "But I'm your monster."
I turned my back to her then, the faint echo of my footsteps filling the hollow silence. My hand lingered on the door for a moment before I glanced back one last time.
"Until we meet again," I said softly, my smile wickedly calm. "My sweet little kitten."
And with that, I walked out — leaving behind the scent of dread and the quiet sound of Maria's broken breath.
She stood there for a long while, unmoving. Her knees finally gave way, and she fell to the cold floor.
Her hand rose to her chest, clutching the fabric tightly as tears streamed down her face — silent, trembling, endless.
She hated him. She hated him more than anyone she'd ever known. But somewhere deep inside, buried beneath the anger and pain, was the cruel truth she didn't want to face — that every word he said had cut too close to something real.