It was the first time I had seen Alexandro look so serious.

The dinner was as uncomfortable as it could possibly get. Between Eleanor, who seemed on the verge of a breakdown, and Margery, who kept glaring at her father demanding explanations, the atmosphere was suffocating.

I was caught in the middle. Although I felt a faint curiosity, I didn’t really care. I already had plans to flatten an entire region, and it wouldn’t be easy to make me change my mind.

Luckily, like everything that doesn’t span thousands of years for me, the dinner ended quickly. Alexandro forced Eleanor to retire and sat down in an armchair in the adjoining room with an expression of absolute helplessness.

"To be honest, I don’t know much," he began, his voice hoarse with the weight of the secret he had carried for so long. "When Margery was three and Cassian was just a baby, a woman appeared at my door. I had only recently married Eleanor, and the county was completely bankrupt. She offered me a deal I couldn’t refuse."

He paused, letting out a heavy sigh.

"She said she was from Pradiles and that she was in trouble. She pretended to be my wife for a while. Eleanor believed I had cheated on her, though I swore it wasn’t true. The woman left as suddenly as she had arrived, and over the years I came to love you both as if you were my own. I never meant to hide it from you for so long."

Seeing Alexandro so downcast was almost depressing. Margery stepped closer to comfort him, visibly uncertain as she processed that he wasn’t her biological father, yet still determined.

"Father, you don’t have to blame yourself," she said. "But if that woman’s problems are bringing eighth-circle mages back into our lives, I don’t know how this is going to end."

"Were they really eighth-circle?" Alexandro asked, incredulous. "I thought you were exaggerating just to get me here quickly."

"They were. Cassian says a friend of his took care of them, though at the time it seemed impossible to stop them."

"A friend?" Alexandro looked at me with a proud smile. "Good thing you have those kinds of connections, son."

I shifted uncomfortably. It was still hard for me to see him as a father; that was why I always tried to call him by his name.

"Maybe we should travel to Pradiles," Margery suggested hesitantly.

Alexandro tensed immediately and grabbed her arm with surprising strength.

"You almost died and you want to walk straight into the lion’s den! There’s no reason for you to try to get close to that woman."

...

In Pradiles, inside the Empress’s chambers.

"Your Majesty, we have received news from Demor," a maid reported.

The noble-looking woman reclining on her bed lifted her gaze. Her eyes darkened with a cold gleam.

"Demor?"

"Yes! The youths who were sent there have stopped communicating. They should have returned by now, but they’ve vanished without a trace."

"Isn’t that good news?" A mischievous smile spread across the Empress’s face.

"But Your Majesty! The Grandel and Rothsson families will not stay silent. If the Rothsson ancestor finds out that his most precious descendant has disappeared... the first person they will point to will be you."

The Empress’s face twisted in disgust. Remembering that the only Transcendent in the empire was that arrogant old man from the Rothsson family, this always put unbearable pressure on her. If only breaking through the limit didn’t turn everyone into arrogant beings who forgot their place of origin...

"But I suppose we gain more from this than we lose," the Empress murmured. "The incoming legacy no longer poses a threat to us. And if she had descendants... perhaps even I could benefit from it."

Her eyes shone with cold ambition as she sat up slightly.

"It won’t be long now," she said with a confidence that made the skin crawl. "Soon I will break through the limit."

The maid looked at her mistress in complete shock.

"Once that happens, they will no longer be able to pressure me like this," she concluded.

In her mind appeared the images of the two children of her late sister—the one who was supposed to be sitting on the throne right now instead of her.

"I’ll be able to bring them back soon... wait for it, sister." the Empress whispered to herself, her voice trembling between nostalgia and madness.

...

Back at the mansion in the capital of Demor.

Margery and Cassian would be spending the night there. A deathly silence filled the hallways of the residence. Everyone was in separate rooms, and no one could fall asleep—including Cassian, who normally never had trouble sleeping.

Tonight he preferred to stay awake, whether to reflect on what Alexandro had said or to visit the room of someone who had been crying all night.

Although he hesitated at first, he couldn’t ignore the sound once he heard it.

The door to his stepmother’s room was slightly ajar. Without looking back, he pushed it open further and stepped inside. He stood there for a while, arms crossed, watching her in total silence.

Eleanor was in a wretched state. Tears streamed down her face as she clutched the sheets to herself, searching for relief that would not come. At some point she sensed she was no longer alone. When she saw who it was, she gave an ironic sneer.

"Have you come to mock me?"

"I wouldn’t know what I should be mocking you for," Cassian replied, making it clear he had no idea what had brought her to this state.

"Hmph! Your father only called the two of you. He forgot about Elric, Rosalind, or any of the children he had with me. You must be thrilled."

Cassian gave her a flat look, showing no emotion.

"Your mother and the two of you are the same," she continued, her voice breaking. "You appeared out of nowhere and took everything I worked so hard to achieve. And to make matters worse, now my family is in trouble because of you."

Cassian raised an eyebrow, confused.

"Because of me? I don’t remember you getting along with them all that well either."

"That bitch Lissandre, the one who likes your face so much... I offended her because I said her children were worthless, and now my mother is crying, waiting for me to somehow calm her down."

"It doesn’t seem like my fault at all," I answered coldly.

She glared at me, rage overflowing from her tear-filled eyes.

"It’s always your fault. Everything is your fault—yours, Margery’s, and that bitch of a mother of yours."

She got out of bed with unsteady steps and stood right in front of him, pointing a trembling finger at his chest. But the moment she got close enough and came face to face with that same face she had hated for years—the face every woman stared at—something inside her completely shattered.

Her finger slowly lowered. Her shoulders slumped. For years she had poured all her frustration onto him: every contemptuous look, every cutting remark, every time she humiliated him in public. And now, with everything falling apart, that hatred mixed with something far darker and more desperate.

Suddenly she grabbed him by the tie with surprising force and kissed him furiously.

It was a violent kiss, almost a punishment. Her lips crashed against his as if she wanted to wipe that damned perfection off his face. When she pulled back, she wore a triumphant, sickly smile.

"See?" she whispered in a broken voice. "Even you can’t control everything."

Cassian remained staring at her with no expression, his lips still wet from the kiss.

Eleanor took his silence as rejection, and that only enraged her more. She grabbed the tie harder, yanking him forward until their noses were almost touching.

"It seems I can never understand you... How can you be so sure of yourself all the time?" she hissed. "Always so perfect... always with that fucking face that drives me insane..."

He calmly removed her hand from his tie. But instead of stepping back, he moved closer, invading her space until Eleanor had to tilt her head up to look at him. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝔀𝓮𝒃𝙣𝓸𝒗𝒆𝒍.𝙘𝒐𝒎

"If my face bothers you so much," Cassian murmured in that low, dangerous voice he used when he was amused, "why do you keep staring at it so much, Eleanor?"

She bit her lower lip hard. Her eyes roamed over his face as if she hated it and desired it at the same time. She wasn’t thinking anymore. All she felt were years of resentment, humiliation, and an attraction she had never allowed herself to acknowledge.

"Since nothing seems to matter to you..." she whispered, her voice trembling, "then this surely won’t mean anything either."

With a sharp tug she grabbed Cassian’s shirt and ripped it open, buttons flying everywhere. Her trembling hands slid down his bare chest, as if she wanted to mark him, punish him, and possess him all at once.

Cassian smiled faintly—that cold, amused smile she had always hated.