Noelle Silva panted heavily in the Silva training grounds, feeling a dull ache in her chest and a deeper ache in her heart.

Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!

"Why can't I hit anything?!" she shouted, hurling another ball of water from her hand. But, instead of striking the practice dummy, it veered off course and smashed into an ornate pillar, leaving a fresh dent in the stone.

Normally, she would've shuddered, knowing Nozel would give her a harsh scolding for it, but today, Noelle didn't care. There was something much bigger weighing on her mind.

She, Noelle Silva, a royal of the Clover Kingdom, had just been told by her eldest brother that she was to be sent off to join the Black Bulls—the worst of the worst. The lowly, disorderly group that everyone mocked.

The thing she'd feared her whole life had finally come true. Her family was done with her. They'd abandoned her.

Now, her status as a failure was sealed. She would go down in the history books as the disgrace of House Silva, the first Silva who wouldn't join the Silver Eagles—not because she had other ambitions, not because she rejected the call of knighthood, but because her own family refused to take in a "failure" like her. And if what her brother had said was true, even the Black Bulls only accepted her as a favor to Nozel, who'd begged their foreign captain.

I hate it! Tears of frustration filled Noelle's eyes. I hate it! I hate everything! I hate how my family treats me! I hate how they all blame me for Mother's death! I hate how everyone calls me a failure! And most of all, I hate how I can't prove them wrong!

She'd thought everything would change when she got her grimoire, that she'd finally prove herself worthy. But even with her grimoire, she was still the helpless, useless Silva who couldn't control her magic if her life depended on it. And because of that, the abuse and mockery had only worsened.

She felt like she was done. Done with everything. She even felt like dying.

But then, Noelle trembled and pushed those thoughts away, letting out a bitter laugh as she looked up at the sky. "I also hate that I'm such a coward," she muttered, her voice hoarse.

As the sun set, Noelle sighed, remembering her brother's words. Big Brother Nozel told me someone from the Black Bulls would fetch me tonight. I should get changed and freshen up.

She hadn't been stripped of the Silva name just yet, so she still represented House Silva, and she would keep her family's honor—even if they'd already casted her aside.

But just as she made up her mind and spun around on her heels, Noelle froze, taking in the figure standing before her—a man she'd only ever seen during her mother's death anniversary processions.

He looked like an older version of her greatest tormentor, Solid Silva, sharing the same hair and eye color, yet he carried himself with the same stern dignity as her eldest brother, Nozel Silva. Deep lines marked his forehead, etched into a perpetual frown. He wore the traditional Silva attire, devoid of any eagle emblems, for he wasn't a Magic Knight, let alone a Silver Eagle.

A light, gruff beard shadowed his face, and though his hair revealed hints of gray, there was an odd handsomeness to him.

This was Noelle Silva's father, Sebastian Silva.

Noelle stiffened, forcing herself to stammer out a greeting. "G-Greetings, F-Father."

But Sebastian only looked past her with a cool, indifferent gaze, taking in the scene behind her. The training grounds were a mess. Except for the practice dummy, everything else was wrecked. Pillars cracked, the nearby garden destroyed, stone shards and greenery scattered everywhere.

Noelle's heart hammered in her chest. Her father was the one person she dreaded being caught by, even more so than Nozel. He'd barely spoken to her in her entire life, but their one exchange had haunted her. She'd been a little girl, wandering the Silva halls when she had run into him. After her status as a failed mage became public, he'd left her with only two cold, cutting sentences:

They called her the Steel Warrior Princess. I never thought the last thing she'd leave behind would be someone as useless as you.

Noelle had feared him ever since. While Solid and Nebra's cruelty was plain and Nozel's remarks were cold and detached, her father was an enigma, someone she couldn't read nor understand. She knew him only by reputation: a man who despised failure.

Rumors swirled about how ruthless he could be—about how one should beg for any mistakes to go unnoticed by him, as he had little tolerance for incompetence.

Noelle had convinced herself that the only reason she hadn't been cast out of House Silva was that, as his daughter, throwing her out would bring scandal and dishonor to their family name. But now, with her eldest brother finally casting her off to the Black Bulls, he probably doesn't need to hold back anymore!

Noelle trembled, bracing herself for some final words of disownment. But after several seconds of silence, nothing came. Slowly, she cracked open her eyes and glanced up, only to see her father standing there, scrutinizing her with a cold, unreadable expression as he scratched his chin, almost as if he were searching for something.

Her breath hitched as he reached into his grimoire satchel. Is he pulling out the family register? Is he going to make me erase my name?!

Noelle bit her lip, her heart pounding. But instead, he drew out a rectangular, sleek wooden box. She raised an eyebrow, watching as he unceremoniously dropped the box into her hands. She fumbled to catch it as he turned his back and began to walk away.

Confused, Noelle watched him pause, his back still facing her. For the first time today—and only the second time in her life—he spoke to her.

"The Black Bulls… they're not as bad as others may lead you to believe…"

Without another word, he continued down the path, disappearing into the estate's walls.

Noelle stood in stunned silence. She looked down at the box, then cautiously opened it, her eyes widening as she pulled out a slender, beautifully crafted wand. Intricate floral patterns adorned it, and an embedded plate bore her name. She turned it in her hands, reading the inscription: Noelle Silva.

"A wand?" She whispered, still confused. Then she noticed a slip of paper tucked inside the box. She placed the wand back and unfolded the note.

As her eyes scanned the message, she was forced to blink several times, thinking she was seeing things. She read it once, then again, and again. Her throat grew tight, her hands trembling as tears began to spill from her eyes—not from sorrow, but something far more complex.

She read the note one last time, whispering the words to herself:

I'm aware it's 3 months early, but happy birthday. —Your Father, Sebastian Silva.

Noelle's heart ached. She had never received a birthday present in her life. Every birthday she had spent hiding alone, avoiding her siblings who would only lash out at her after they paid their respects to their late mother.

After a moment, she wiped her tear-stained cheeks, carefully tucking the note back into the box as if it were the most precious thing she'd ever owned. She then slipped the box into her grimoire satchel, making sure it was hidden away. She didn't want Solid finding it and destroying it like he had done to her toys and stuffed animals in the past.

As Noelle walked through the estate, she felt a strange lightness. All of a sudden, leaving to join the Black Bulls didn't seem so frightening, because maybe—just maybe—she hadn't been abandoned. Not yet, anyway.