Slowly, painfully, the truth about her husband had started to unravel before her—like rotten silk beneath her fingertips.
He wasn't a man, not truly. Not where it mattered. That's why he chose her—a beautiful, enslaved girl without power or name. That's why he spun tales of romance and redemption, staged a perfect love story for the nobles to gossip over and believe.
To him, she was a tool. A veil. A womb to blame if no heir ever came.
It stung—quietly, bitterly. Who wouldn't want a child of their own? A family? But she buried that ache with everything else. She played her role. The smiling countess. The silent, obedient wife.
Until the rumors started.
He grew paranoid. Possessive. Accusatory.
At first, it was just suspicion. Then came the accusations. Then came the beatings.
For years, she endured them. Alone.
Until one night… she decided it would be the last.
---
I waited in silence, legs crossed, a steaming cup of tea slowly growing cold in my hand.
It was near midnight when the knock finally came—three quick raps against the wooden door.
I didn't stand.
Instead, I took another sip, then said, "Come in."
The door creaked open. She stepped in—Adriana. Pale under her hood, eyes dark with questions she'd carried for far too long.
She didn't waste a moment.
"Who are you?" she asked, voice tight. "What do you know about me—and how?"
I glanced up, mildly amused at the storm in her eyes.
"Relax," I said lightly. "Before I answer anything… Did you come alone?"
She frowned, annoyance flickering in her gaze. "No. There's a guard with me."
I smiled. "Didn't expect honesty. I thought you'd lie. Try to stab me the moment I turned around."
Adriana crossed her arms. "Maybe I still will."
My grin widened. I stood leisurely, walked to the other chair, and pulled it out like some old-fashioned host. "Let's call it even, shall we?"
She didn't protest. Just sat, watching me warily.
"What a gentleman," she said dryly. "You threaten me, drag me out to some hidden corner of the city at night, and now you're playing tea and conversation?"
"Adriana," I said, tone shifting, "If you're done mocking me, we should talk. We don't have all night."
She raised an eyebrow.
I leaned forward. "Let me tell you something about myself: I'm good to my allies and unforgiving to my enemies. Now you decide—friend or foe?"
Her jaw tightened.
"I don't think you want a friend," she snapped. "If you did, you wouldn't have hidden your name. Your face. You wouldn't have blackmailed me."
"You're right," I said with a small nod. "That's not how friendships begin. But breaking into a noblewoman's estate and asking politely for her trust doesn't work either."
I let the silence settle for a breath.
"I'll give you everything. My name, my goals, my reasons. But first, you need to agree to become my ally."
"Ally?" she scoffed. "You show up in a mask, speaking riddles, threatening me—and you want alliance?"
"Not just that," I said, calm as ever. "A contract. A magical one. You know the cost of breaking such a pact. I can offer it in writing. I'm not here to play with your life—I want us both to win."
She hesitated. Not from fear. From calculation.
"Say I believed you. Say I even considered this alliance. What do you want from me?"
Before I could answer, my senses prickled.
Someone was listening.
I rose smoothly from my seat and walked to the window, gaze flicking through the shadows outside.
"Before we continue," I said, without turning, "tell your guard to leave. He's not as discreet as he thinks."
Adriana stiffened. "How do I know you won't harm me the moment I do?"
I turned back to face her fully.
"If I wanted you dead, Adriana," I said softly, "I would have done it already. Your house has no magical wards strong enough to keep me out. No knight fast enough to stop me. You wouldn't be here, speaking to me—you'd already be ashes in a quiet room."
I let the weight of my words linger.
"If you still don't believe me," I added, "I could prove it. I could kill your guard right now. Would that help?"
She blinked, caught between fear and uncertainty. Then—slowly—she nodded. "Fine."
She walked to the door, whispered something.
Moments later, I felt the other presence vanish.
Now, we were alone.
I returned to my seat, and finally laid my cards on the table.
"I know the truth about your husband. I know what he's done to you. What you plan to do in return. And no, I'm not here to blackmail you. I'm here to offer you a way out."
Her voice was wary. "You keep talking about helping me. But what do you want?"
I looked her in the eye.
"I want to marry you."
She stared at me.
Then blinked.
Then burst into laughter—sharp and humorless.
"That's your grand proposal?" she asked incredulously. "You want to marry a woman you blackmailed, threatened, and manipulated into a midnight meeting?"
I tilted my head. "You wanted to kill your husband. You just hadn't figured out how to survive it yet. I'm giving you that path."
"You still haven't told me what you gain."
I smiled. "Freedom. Influence. And a partner who isn't afraid to cut a few strings."
She stared at me for a long, breathless moment. Suspicion flickering in her gaze, fading, returning.
"Give me a reason," she finally said. "One real reason why I should believe any of this."
I leaned forward, voice barely above a whisper.
"Because you're not the only one who wants out of this game alive."