Several weeks had passed since Duchess Victoria Ignatius had sent her letters to the royal family and the other dukedoms.
The responses were as predictable as they were amusing.
No one, least of all the royal family, believed the elaborate tale she had woven.
But what could they do?
Call her a liar?
Accuse her publicly of fabricating stories?
Impossible.
Victoria was the most powerful duchess in the kingdom, and she held an alliance with the crown itself.
If anyone in the noble court had frustrations or doubts, they had to swallow them, bury them behind strained smiles, and respond with polite words.
One by one, the letters arrived, each filled with formal compliments and empty praises, politely wishing her success with her "new technique."
Duchess Ignatius could practically hear the sound of their teeth gritting as she read through their feigned gratitude.
She dismissed each letter with a snort, her amusement evident.
Seated upon her throne, Victoria was approached by her eldest daughter, Elizabeth, who calmly presented her with a letter.
"What is it, Elizabeth?" the duchess inquired, glancing at the envelope in her daughter's hand.
"Aunt Freya... the Duchess Everhart, wishes to meet her nieces," Elizabeth explained.
"She hopes to visit us in our territory and wants her daughter to meet her cousins, should Duchess Ignatius allow it."
Victoria sighed, her gaze assessing her daughter's expression. "I know you three believe that Aunt Freya is blameless, that she was not complicit in that man's actions. You are correct; she did nothing wrong."
She paused for a moment, gathering her thoughts. "I harbor no ill will toward her. If you wish to embrace her as your aunt, I will not stand in your way."
Elizabeth's face brightened with a small, satisfied smile. "And what of Damian?"
"...She is his aunt; they share blood. He should have the opportunity to know her," Duchess Victoria replied, a slight smile gracing her lips.
"You may inform her that she is welcome to visit and meet her nieces and nephew whenever she desires."
"Also, I have decided that it is time to introduce the heir of the Ignatius Dukedom to the kingdom of Astoria," the duchess declared.
"You mean...?" Elizabeth's eyes widened with surprise.
"Yes. I have reached my peak strength. I have no concerns about the news of my son reaching the other dukedoms; as long as I draw breath, no one shall pose a threat to my precious child," the duchess proclaimed, resting her chin on her hand against the throne's arm.
She continued, "We will celebrate his eighth birthday with a grand gathering. You three daughters shall prepare for the event."
"We will do as you command, Mother. I will convey this to the twins myself," Elizabeth replied, her face radiant with excitement as she departed from the throne room.
...
Territory of The Everhart Dukedom.
Duchess Freya Everhart sat alone on her throne, her usual composure replaced by an uncharacteristic tension.
Her fingers drummed restlessly against the ornate armrests, betraying an impatience she could scarcely contain.
A week had passed since she received the missive from the Ignatius Dukedom explaining the mysterious phenomenon that had swept across the Kingdom of Astoria.
To her, the letter's contents were little more than a collection of poorly veiled excuses.
Yet it was not this letter that troubled her, but the one that arrived the very next day.
It was from her eldest niece, Elizabeth, who announced her intent to visit the Everhart Dukedom today.
More intriguingly, Elizabeth hinted at a revelation—something 'very special' that she intended to share.
Freya's thoughts were interrupted by the appearance of a man who bore a striking resemblance to her.
He stepped forward and bowed, but his eyes simmered with a hatred barely masked by his deferential posture.
This was Leon Everhart, her estranged brother, a man who had long since forfeited the right to call her "sister."
Freya was well aware of Leon's resentment, yet she tolerated his presence, waiting—watching—for him to make a mistake.
Only then would she have the grounds to deal with him as she wished, ensnaring him in a trap from which he could not escape.
"What is it?" she asked, her tone clipped and cold.
"Envoys from the Ignatius Dukedom have arrived," Leon replied.
His expression remained impassive, but a flush crept across his cheeks, betraying his inner turmoil.
"Is that so? Then you are dismissed." Freya rose from her throne.
"But, Duchess—" Leon began, only to be silenced by her piercing gaze.
A sudden, invisible force pressed down upon him, sapping his strength and forcing him to his knees.
"I said YOU ARE DISMISSED," Freya repeated, her voice sharp as steel.
Leon's jaw tightened, and he nodded reluctantly, retreating with what dignity he could muster.
The silence was soon broken by a familiar voice.
"One of these days, he's going to snap from all this humiliation," remarked a young woman with dark brown hair and striking blue eyes, the very likeness of Freya herself.
It was Fiona, the Duchess's daughter, standing casually beside the throne with her arms crossed.
"That's precisely what I want," Freya replied, a sly smile touching her lips.
"I'm waiting for him to break—to give me reason to bind him permanently. But the fool is enduring far too well." She sighed, rolling her eyes before glancing at Fiona with a softened expression.
"Now, my dear, your cousin has arrived. Shall we go greet her?"
With a nod, Fiona fell into step beside her mother as they made their way to the meeting hall, where the envoys from the Ignatius Dukedom awaited.
As Freya entered, every representative of the Ignatius Dukedom rose and bowed respectfully.
Freya paid them little mind; her gaze went immediately to the woman standing at the front, her long crimson hair cascading elegantly over her shoulders and her striking green eyes exuding a quiet strength.
Elizabeth Ignatius had arrived, and three battalion generals stood at attention behind her, protectively shadowing her every move.
"Aunt Freya," Elizabeth greeted her with a warm smile. "It has been too long."
"Twenty years, to be exact," Freya replied, a rare softness in her voice as she gently touched Elizabeth's shoulder.
"And how have you been? How are the twins?"
"We've never been happier," Elizabeth answered, a serene joy lighting her face.
Freya noted the quiet contentment in her niece's expression.
Placing a hand on her daughter's shoulder, she introduced her with obvious pride. "Elizabeth, this is my daughter, Fiona Everhart."
Elizabeth's gaze softened as she regarded Fiona.
"The last time I saw you, you were just a baby. Now look at you—a fine young woman," she said, patting Fiona's shoulder affectionately.
"You may call me Sister Elizabeth, if you'd like."
Then, turning to Freya, Elizabeth's expression grew more serious. "Shall we speak in private?"
Freya nodded, a flicker of curiosity in her eyes as she gestured for Elizabeth to follow.
.
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{Author's Note: If you enjoyed this chapter, don't forget to vote with some POWER STONES. It would also really help me if you could rate this book. Thank you for reading!}