The Everhart banquet glittered beneath a thousand candles, but beneath the light there was only shadow. Nobles clustered like birds in jeweled cages, their silks rustling as whispers slithered from group to group.
At the heart of it all was Kayla. Draped in rose silk, she walked the hall like a dream woven from divine threads. Every smile she offered sent ripples of awe through the nobles. Every tilt of her head made even seasoned dukes lean closer, desperate to bask in her glow.
"She carries the blessing of the gods," a countess murmured, clutching her fan.
"Not Lady Nia," another whispered, eyes flicking across the room. "The System may have chosen, but fate chose Kayla first."
Andy stood rigid beside Nia, his pulse loud in his ears. The perfume of the banquet turned his stomach. He forced his gaze to stay on Nia, but Kayla's presence pressed against the edges of his thoughts like honey threatening to drown him.
Nia, however, was unshaken. Her silver eyes never wavered from the nobles. She watched every glance, every slip of the tongue, cataloguing loyalties shifting like sand. To the room, she looked the perfect heiress: serene, cold, unyielding. But Andy knew—the storm was there, just beneath the surface.
A marquisess approached, her smile sweet but her words edged with steel. "Lady Nia, you carry yourself with admirable grace. Still, how difficult it must be, watching another woman radiate what seems undeniably divine."
Her words earned murmurs of agreement.
Another lord chuckled into his wine. "Perhaps fate made a mistake. Or perhaps the System is more flexible than we thought?"
The words were daggers in velvet.
Andy bristled, his hand twitching toward his sword, but Nia's hand pressed calmly on his arm. She stood with measured grace, her voice clear.
"If the System is flexible," she said, "then it chose well. Andy and I have stood in trial, in blood, in fire. That is no mistake. That is proof."
Her words rang sharp as steel. Whispers rippled—some uneasy, others skeptical.
Then Kayla glided closer. The hall stilled as if bowing to her presence. Her eyes shimmered, her voice trembled with sorrow too perfect to be real.
"I would never wish division," she said softly. "But what I feel… what Andy and I share… is not crafted by politics or force. It is something deeper. Something the heart remembers, even when the mind forgets."
The nobles sighed, entranced. Some placed hands to their hearts as though touched by holiness.
Andy's breath hitched. For a dangerous instant, he almost felt it too—that aching truth in her voice.
Nia stepped forward, her staff gleaming faintly though no spell was cast. Her voice rang with quiet fire. "The heart can be deceived. Illusions can be sweet. But trial reveals truth. Andy and I have faced death together. That bond cannot be imitated."
The tension sharpened, the two women standing in stark contrast—Kayla radiant and sorrowful, Nia fierce and resolute.
A duke raised his glass, eyes glittering. "Then perhaps you should prove it, Lady Nia. Show us the strength of this bond. Words are wind."
The challenge hung heavy.
Andy's chest tightened. He wanted to shout, to cut through the lies, but Nia lifted her chin, her gaze steady. "Proof is carved not in halls but on battlefields. And those of you who doubt may one day pray for the bond you mock."
Her words fell like stone into the silence. Some nobles frowned, unsettled. Others whispered harder, caught between awe and doubt.
Andy could bear it no longer. He took Nia's hand openly, raising it high for all to see. His voice rang clear above the whispers:
"Whatever illusions may come, whatever whispers spread—I choose Nia. Not because of the System. Not because of politics. But because she is my truth."
The great hall froze. Gasps echoed. Nobles shifted, some scandalized, others captivated.
Kayla's smile did not falter, but her eyes gleamed with frost, sharp beneath the sorrowful mask. For the briefest heartbeat, Andy saw it—the crack in perfection.
The System's chime thundered in his mind:
> [Bond Progression: 124% → 126%]
Public declaration reinforced.
Rivalry confirmed.
Warning: Divine interference escalating.
The banquet resumed, but the lines were drawn. Nia's defiance had set fire to the whispers, Andy's vow had fueled them, and Kayla's silence had sealed the battlefield.
The war of masks and promises had begun.
The halls of Everhart quieted as the banquet wound down, but Andy's chest still burned with the weight of every whisper. Even after the music had faded, the echoes of nobles calling Kayla "divine" clung to him like chains.
By the time he and Nia returned to their chambers, silence pressed between them. Andy tugged restlessly at the collar of his coat, pacing. The reflection in the tall window made him look like a man trapped between two worlds.
"Every glance tonight," he muttered, "every smile—they already see her as a goddess. And I…" His throat tightened. "I almost believed her again."
Nia leaned her staff against the wall and turned, her silver eyes sharp. "You did. I saw it in your face."
Andy froze, guilt stabbing deep. "I—Nia, I swear—"
But she shook her head, her voice trembling with restraint. "I don't want your apologies. I just want to know… when the moment comes, when it's her words against mine—will you still be with me?"
The plea cut him deeper than any sword. He crossed the room in two strides, gripping her shoulders. "I am with you. I always am. Even when she twists things, even when I falter—my heart knows where it belongs."
Her eyes softened, but uncertainty still lingered. Slowly, she leaned forward until her forehead pressed against his chest, her voice muffled. "Then hold to that. Because the nobles won't stop. Every one of them who worships her is another knife pointed at us."
Andy wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. "Then we'll fight knives with fire. Let them come."
She huffed a quiet laugh against his shirt. "You're reckless."
"You love it," he teased gently.
When she looked up, the storm in her eyes had dimmed, replaced by a faint smile. "Maybe I do."
The System stirred faintly:
> [Bond Progression: 126% → 127%]
Emotional reassurance achieved. Political resolve fortified.
Andy brushed a thumb over her cheek, tracing the line of warmth there. "If they demand proof again, we'll give it to them. Not with words. With strength. With the bond we've built."
Nia's lips parted, her gaze fierce and tender at once. "Then prove it to me now."
Andy blinked. "Now?"
She smirked faintly, tugging him toward the bed. "You promised fire. Let's see if you can keep it burning when the hall is empty."
He laughed under his breath, letting her pull him closer. Their kiss began soft but deepened quickly, fire and certainty threading through every touch. For all the venom of the banquet, here there was no mask, no rival—only them.
When they finally broke apart, breathless, Nia rested her head against his shoulder. "If Kayla thinks she can take you from me, she's welcome to try. She'll only learn how much stronger we burn together."
Andy kissed her hair, whispering, "Then let her come. We'll burn her illusions to ash."
Outside, the palace schemed. Inside, two souls found strength not in words or politics, but in each other's arms.
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