Chapter 1: The Isolated Heiress
There was a persistent problem in Count Alaric's household, and it always circled back to his eldest daughter, Seraphina Alaric. The count often grumbled about how much money had been wasted on her, given that she was always sick and confined to her bed.
If there had been even the slightest hope of her recovery, perhaps his attitude would have changed. But Seraphina's health had always been fragile, and her constant illnesses gradually wore down her parents' affection. They no longer saw her as a daughter to be loved, but as a burden, they had to bear.
Seraphina spent more time in her room than anywhere else, missing out on all the things other noble children enjoyed—parties, gatherings, even simple walks in the garden. The longer her sickness lasted, the fewer people came to visit. At first, there had been concerned relatives and curious friends, but as months turned into years, the visits dwindled to nothing. She was left in total isolation, and with that isolation came the inevitable rumors.
Rumors about her began to spread like wildfire. Some said she was cursed, that her illness was a punishment from the heavens for some unknown sin. Others claimed she was a witch, struck down by her own dark powers. The truth, of course, was much simpler: she was just sick. But the truth rarely held much weight when gossip was involved.
Whenever Count Alaric looked at her pale, weak face, he could feel nothing but frustration and anger. He never offered her a kind word or a gentle smile. Instead, he hurled insults at her, calling her cruel names like "cursed child." The rumors that surrounded her only made him more furious, and before long, he had her confined to her room. He couldn't stand to look at her, couldn't bear the sight of her ghostly appearance, so he shut her away, hoping to forget she even existed.
Seraphina had long since grown used to the coldness of her family. Family warmth was something she had never really experienced. Her meals were brought to her room, where she ate alone, listening to the distant sounds of laughter and conversation from the rest of the household. Her parents' neglect had set the tone for the rest of the family. Her siblings ignored her as if she were invisible, treating her not as their sister but as an inconvenience.
Though she was the count's daughter, she was seen by everyone as a burden—a burden they all secretly wished would disappear. Whenever someone spoke of her, it was with a resigned air, as if they were just waiting for the inevitable.
"Who knows when she'll finally pass away?" they whispered. And Seraphina couldn't really blame them for thinking that way. Sometimes, she felt the same. Her illness often felt like it was slowly killing her, taking away her strength bit by bit. Yet, despite everything, she had survived longer than anyone had expected. She had reached the age where noble daughters were usually wed, but no suitors had come calling for her.
The reason for that was painfully clear.
One morning, Count Alaric's frustration boiled over. He summoned Seraphina to his study, his voice thundering through the halls. The household staff knew better than to get in his way when he was in this kind of mood.
"You worthless thing!" he roared as soon as she entered the room, his voice loud enough to rattle the windows.
To him, Seraphina had always been a disappointment. From the moment she was born, she had been nothing but trouble. His eldest daughter should have been a source of pride, securing a good marriage that would benefit the family. But instead, she had no prospects, no future. She was a drain on the family's resources, and her continued existence was an embarrassment.
"How did I end up with a child like you?" he spat, glaring at her with undisguised contempt.
Seraphina stood in silence, her head bowed, her pale hands clasped in front of her. She had heard all of this before, countless times. It didn't hurt any less, but she had learned how to endure it.
"Why does our family have to suffer this humiliation?" he continued, his voice rising with each word. "Do you have any idea how much I've lost because of you?"
Known for his ambition, Count Alaric had always been desperate to climb the social and political ladder. A strong marriage alliance was his best shot at gaining more power and wealth, but Seraphina had failed to provide that opportunity. To him, she was a dead weight, holding him back from his goals.
Political marriages were nothing new in their world. In fact, they were expected. They weren't about love or affection; they were about securing alliances, increasing influence, and strengthening ties between powerful families. The count had married Seraphina's mother for those very reasons. It had never been a love match, but it had been beneficial for both families. In his eyes, marriage was nothing more than a transaction, a means to an end. And Seraphina had failed in her duty to contribute to that plan.
He slammed his fist onto his desk, causing a pile of papers to scatter.
"Why hasn't anyone asked for your hand in marriage?" he demanded, his face twisted with anger. "What's wrong with you?"
Seraphina didn't respond. There was no point. She hadn't asked to be spared from marriage; in fact, she had long since resigned herself to the fact that it would likely be her only escape from this life of isolation. But she also knew that no one would ever come forward to offer for her—not while she remained sick and frail.
But today, there was something different in her father's tone. It wasn't just anger. There was something else—something she hadn't heard before. Desperation.
"There is one proposal," he said finally, his voice tinged with bitterness.
Seraphina blinked, her eyes widening in surprise. A proposal? Someone had actually proposed to her? For a moment, hope flickered in her heart. Could this be her chance? Could this be her escape from the prison that her life had become?
Chapter 2: A Forced Fate
"A letter arrived from the Duke of Everwyn," Count Alaric said, though his tone remained cold. "He's proposing marriage."
The mention of the Duke's name extinguished whatever hope she had felt. The Duke of Everwyn.
His name alone sent a chill down her spine. The Duke was powerful, yes, but he was also feared. People spoke of him in hushed whispers, and his reputation was far from comforting.
Whatever his reasons for proposing, they were unlikely to be for love or companionship. There had to be something else behind it.
"The Duke of Everwyn?" she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper.
She looked up at her father, shaking her head in disbelief. This couldn't be happening. Not THAT Duke.
"I must have heard wrong," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "You don't mean THAT Duke, do you?"
But her father's expression remained as hard as ever. There was no mistake.
"Yes, Seraphina," he said, his tone final. "I mean THAT Duke."
...
The count's quick and unwavering response left Seraphina feeling trapped. The Everwyn family. A family shrouded in dark rumors and ominous whispers.
The gossip about Seraphina herself was nothing compared to the vile stories surrounding the Everwyns.
People spoke in hushed tones, spreading rumors that were enough to make anyone uneasy.
Although the Duke of Everwyn was a duke now, his lineage was said to be tainted. The stories painted him as something far from noble. And despite holding such a high title, he rarely appeared in public, which only added fuel to the fire.
Some said the duke had demon blood running through his veins; others claimed he took pleasure in killing and was haunted by the smell of blood that clung to him no matter how much he washed it off.
The current Duke of Everwyn had already gained a terrifying reputation on the battlefield.
Known as a warrior drenched in blood, even his own allies were afraid of him. The sight of him brought fear to anyone who crossed his path, and the mere mention of his name sent shivers down their spines.
To marry into such a family was like sending Seraphina to her death. How could someone as delicate and frail as she survives in a world that thrives on violence and death?
"I can't marry him!" Seraphina blurted out, her voice trembling with fear.
"You can't? Do you think you have a choice?" Count Alaric's voice boomed through the room, his face turning red with anger.
"Do you think there's a future for you if you reject this match? Do you want to be thrown out, left without money to pay for the medicine that keeps you alive?"
"No. No, it's just…" Seraphina's voice faltered, her resolve crumbling under the weight of her father's fury.
She wanted to argue, to say that perhaps another proposal might come in time. But standing there, facing her father's wrath, she couldn't find the courage to speak those words. Instead, she bit her lip, holding back her protest.
"What then? Are you going to ruin the House of Alaric?" the count demanded, his voice sharp with impatience.
"No…" Seraphina whispered. "I'll get married."
With only one proposal before her, Seraphina knew she had no real choice. Marriage was no longer an option—it was a necessity. The bleak reality of her situation hit her hard.
She could either remain a prisoner in her own room or face death in the arms of a man whose reputation was built on blood and terror.
The count cleared his throat, eyeing his daughter's defeated expression. "Very well. If you succeed in marrying the duke, the prestige of our family will be restored."
His words were cold, devoid of any concern for her well-being. For Count Alaric, it was all about the family's status, and Seraphina was simply the means to an end.
She sighed softly, realizing that her father's ambitions were all that mattered to him. Her feelings, her fears—none of that had any place in his plans.
With that, the preparations for the marriage began, moving forward with swift efficiency. The wedding was arranged hastily, and the date loomed closer with every passing day. A week before the wedding, Seraphina was sent to attend what would be her last banquet as an unmarried woman.
Normally, she would have turned down the invitation, citing her health as an excuse. But this time, things were different. She was being sent as the duke's fiancée, a symbol of the family's rising prestige. It wasn't a choice; it was a duty.
As expected, no one at the banquet approached Seraphina. Even those who were curious about her upcoming marriage to the fearsome Duke of Everwyn kept their distance.
They preferred to gossip from afar, whispering among themselves, rather than engage with her directly. As the night wore on, people danced and laughed, paying her no attention at all.
"Huh," Seraphina sighed quietly, standing alone amid the revelry. Her entire life had been dictated by others, from her birth to her marriage. Every decision had been made for her, and it was painfully clear that this pattern would continue. She didn't even have the right to choose her own future, let alone her own husband.
With another sigh, she excused herself from the bustling hall and slipped out onto a quiet terrace. The cool night air was a welcome relief from the suffocating atmosphere inside. She leaned against the railing, shivering slightly as the cold marble floor sent a chill through her thin shoes.
After tonight, her life would be consumed by wedding preparations once again. She was already tired of it all—tired of the endless gifts piling up in her room, tired of the expectations weighing on her shoulders.
'I wish I had just one thing I could decide,' Seraphina thought, her heart heavy with the burden of her fate.
As if in answer to her unspoken wish, a heavy coat was suddenly draped over her shoulders, shielding her from the cold breeze. Startled by the unexpected warmth, she looked up to see a man standing beside her.
Gifts
-- Gift
received Weekly Power Status
200+ Power
Ranking 
0 Power
stone 
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