The bells of the capital rang softly in the morning air, echoing through the marble corridors of the Veyne Ducal Estate. Sunlight spilled across the white stone walls, touching the golden patterns and crystal chandeliers that hung like stars frozen in daylight.
To anyone who saw it, the house of Veyne was the picture of power and beauty. The family stood second only to the royal family itself. Their wealth could feed small cities; their influence stretched across every noble court in the kingdom of Aurellia.
And at the center of it all stood Lady Jerni Gale Veyne, the eldest daughter of the Duke, and the pride of the Veyne bloodline.
But for Jerni, the ducal and her bloodline were nothing more than a gilded cage.
As the eldest daughter of Duke Auren Veyne, she carried the weight of her house's honor. Her father had five wives and twenty-one children, each raised to compete for power, attention, and the Duke's favor. In such a house, love was a rare thing, and trust is even rarer.
Jerni's mother, Lady Mirelle Veyne, was once the Duke's second wife. A quiet woman known for her grace and wisdom. But when she died of illness when Jerni was twelve, everything changed. The other wives took the chance to push Jerni aside, whispering lies into the Duke's ear, turning his eyes away from his once-favorite child.
Still, Jerni did not crumble.
Every morning, she woke before sunrise to study, practice magic, and attend lessons in politics and etiquette. She learned how to smile when she wanted to scream, and how to bow even when she wished to strike. By sixteen, she was already known among the nobles as the Perfect Daughter of House Veyne.
But perfection came at a price.
That morning, she stood before the tall mirror in her chamber, her maid carefully fixing the last strand of her black hair. Her reflection looked perfect, calm, graceful, and composed, just like everyone expected her to be.
Her pale blue eyes were sharp yet soft, like a lake hiding deep water. She wore a light-blue gown woven with silk threads, glowing faintly under the morning sun. To many, she was the ideal noblewoman. She was intelligent, talented, and kind.
But beneath that calm smile, Jerni's mind never rested.
"My lady, your father requests your presence in the great hall. The royal envoy has arrived," said Mira, her head maid, bowing slightly.
Jerni nodded gently. "Thank you, Mira. You may leave first."
"As you wish, My lady."
When the maid left, silence filled the room again. Within a few minutes of taking a short break, she was ready. Her gown shimmered faintly as she walked through the palace corridors. Servants bowed as she passed, but their eyes followed her with hidden curiosity and envy.
At the end of the hall stood two large golden doors. As they opened, the sound of conversation filled the air.
The Great Hall of House Veyne was filled with her family. Seated on the main chair was Duke Auren, a tall man with sharp gray eyes and a commanding voice. Around him were his wives, each dressed in fine silk, smiling sweetly but with poison behind their lips.
Jerni curtsied gracefully. "Father."
The Duke nodded. "You're late, Jerni."
"My apologies, Your Grace. I was preparing as quickly as I could."
One of the wives, Lady Sera Veyne, let out a quiet laugh. "Ah, the young lady always takes her time. Perhaps perfection needs polishing every morning."
The others chuckled softly. Jerni only smiled. "Perfection is a heavy burden, Lady Sera. I wouldn't wish it upon anyone."
The Duke's lips curved into a faint smirk. "Enough. Sit."
Jerni obeyed and took her place beside her younger half-sister, Lady Fielle Veyne, a girl of fifteen with golden curls and wide green eyes. Fielle leaned closer and whispered, "Father is going to announce something big."
Before Jerni could reply, the large doors opened again. The royal envoy entered, followed by a man dressed in fine white and gold. His presence silenced the room.
It was his highness, Crown Prince Aedric Valmor.
Jerni rose immediately, along with her siblings, and curtsied deeply. "Your highness."
The prince smiled kindly. "Lady Jerni, it's good to see you again. It has been some months since the royal banquet."
Her heart beat fast, but her face remained calm. "Indeed, Your Highness. I hope the capital has treated you well."
He laughed lightly. "Better, now that I am here."
The wives whispered among themselves. The Duke stood and cleared his throat. "As all of you know," he began, "our house has long served the royal family with loyalty and honor. Today, I am pleased to announce that His Highness has come to make an official proposal."
The hall went silent.
Prince Aedric stepped forward, holding a small velvet box. Inside was a ring of blue sapphire, shining like a frozen flame. "Lady Jerni Gale Veyne," he said, his voice steady, "I wish to ask for your hand in marriage."
The hall erupted with gasps. Even Jerni, calm as she was, felt her breath catch.
Her father's eyes gleamed with pride. "You honor our house, Your Highness. My daughter-"
But before he could finish, one of the younger wives stood. Lady Sera again, with her smile cold as ice. "Your Highness, forgive my boldness," she said sweetly, "but are you sure? There are rumors about Lady Jerni's... conduct."
The hall stiffened.
Jerni turned slowly toward her, her calm face hiding the storm beneath. "Rumors?"
Lady Sera nodded. "Yes, dear. They say you have been meeting with a certain noble at night. Letters exchanged, secret visits... we would hate for such things to reach the palace ears."
The Duke's expression darkened. "Sera. Enough."
But the damage was done. Whispers filled the room.
The Crown Prince frowned. "Is this true?"
Jerni met his gaze, eyes steady. "No, Your Highness. I have never done such a thing. Those are lies meant to shame me."
Aedric hesitated, looking between her and the other wives. "I believe you, Lady Jerni. But for formality's sake, I must ask the court to investigate. If the rumors are found to be lies, I will make sure those who spread such hate will face their proper punishment."
Her chest tightened. She wanted to speak, but her father raised a hand. "Very well," the Duke said stiffly. "Until this is cleared, I ask that Jerni refrain from public appearances."
Jerni bowed her head slightly. "As you wish, Father."
Her heart, however, burned and hurt.
She had done nothing wrong and yet, in a single moment, her years of perfection were stained by lies. She could see the small, victorious smiles on the faces of her half-siblings and the Duke's wives.
As the meeting ended, she walked out of the hall in silence. Mira followed her, worried. "My lady, this is not fair."
Jerni stopped in the corridor, her voice calm but cold. "Fairness does not exist here, Mira. Only survival."
She looked up at the sunlight streaming through the tall windows. Her reflection in the glass no longer looked calm. It looked dangerous.