The echo of soldiers' marches resonated through the stone walls of Valenford Castle as relentless rain pelted the windows. Astor Valenford stood by a tall window, watching the droplets slide down the glass, his thoughts wandering in directions he shared with no one. In the adjoining hall, the muffled laughter of his brother, Edmund, seeped through the slightly ajar doors. They were celebrating something—a military achievement, a successful business venture. For Edmund, everything in life seemed to come easily.
Astor turned his gaze back to the rain, feigning disinterest as always. The face everyone knew revealed nothing: his expression was calm, almost bored. But beneath that facade, his mind was always in motion, evaluating, measuring. Every gesture was a masterpiece of uselessness, an art he had perfected since childhood.
He recalled those days of his youth. Back then, Astor watched from the shadows as his admired older brother, Edmund, trained. The clash of swords echoed, the metallic ring reverberating off the castle walls as soldiers shouted fervently. Edmund, always under the strict supervision of their mother, Lady Eleonor, received the finest instruction. And although Astor shared the same lineage, the same noble birthright, he soon understood that any ambition to excel would spell his doom.
It was one of those afternoons when he first witnessed his mother's gaze, the moment his younger brother, Cassian, outshone Edmund in talent. That day, Cassian not only won a duel but signed his death sentence. That cold, calculating look from Lady Eleonor was the prelude to Cassian's disappearance. That night, Cassian mysteriously fell ill, and by morning, he no longer drew breath.
It was then that Astor, at just ten years old, decided he would never be a threat. From that day forward, every mistake, every clumsy act, every poorly executed gesture was calculated with precision. From that moment on, he resolved never to pose a threat to Edmund, let alone to his mother. His life became a continuous act of feigned clumsiness, of poorly chosen words and slow, uncoordinated movements.
A soft knock on the door pulled him from his thoughts. He turned slowly, as always calculating every movement, ensuring the servant found him exactly as he intended: immersed in his thoughts, as though untouched by reality.
"Young master," came the trembling voice of a servant. "Your father... his health has worsened."
Astor did not respond immediately, merely nodding slightly, as though the news barely interested him. Inside, however, the gravity of what he had just heard struck him like a blow. If his father, Lord Valenford, fell, the delicate balance that ensured his safety would collapse. Edmund would take absolute control, and his mother… his mother would not hesitate to eliminate any obstacle to secure her firstborn's power.
"Tell me," he said at last, his tone monotone, "what has the physician said?"
The servant swallowed hard, as if fearing to be the bearer of such grim news.
"The fever won't subside, my lord. They've sent for a healer from the capital, but... there is little hope."
Astor regarded the servant for a long moment before responding, as though weighing the importance of each word.
"Thank you. You may go."
The man gave a hasty bow and disappeared through the doorway, leaving Astor alone once more in his room. The sound of the door closing felt like a seal in his mind. There was no time to waste.
Astor had to act before everything fell apart—or worse, before his mother and elder brother began to see him as a real threat. The only way to escape this gilded prison, he thought, was to disappear entirely.
Astor walked slowly to his desk, a sturdy piece of dark carved wood, scattered with papers that barely interested him. He sat down and pulled out a map of the kingdom, spreading it across the table. His family's territories were vast, but this map didn't show him what he needed. He had to get away, escape the shadow of the Valenfords before his brother or mother even perceived him as a nuisance.
Thus, a more radical idea began to take shape in his mind: to fake his own death.
Faking his death would free him from all expectations and allow him to escape Lady Eleonor's and Edmund's clutches. He would no longer have to worry about being a political rival or becoming the target of some betrayal. If everyone believed him dead, he would be free to live his life far from the Valenfords and their stifling dominion.
Astor knew he would need more than luck to pull off his plan. The Valenfords were meticulous; his mother never left loose ends. But Astor had spent years observing, analyzing, perfecting his ability to plan in secret. With his skills in stealth and manipulation, he was confident he could deceive them all.
The first step would be to carefully organize his disappearance. There were already places around the city where no one would ask questions if a fallen noble appeared under a false name. He knew exactly who his enemies were and how he would use them to make everything look like an accident or a well-executed murder. He couldn't trust anyone in the household, but outside it, the threads he had cautiously woven over the years would prove useful.
He even considered leaving a letter for his mother, Lady Eleonor, the most cunning and calculating person he had ever known. The letter would need to be filled with despair and defeat, feigning that he could no longer bear the pressure. If he played his cards right, she would believe him dead, and Edmund would assume his younger brother had never been a real threat—too weak to withstand life's hardships.
The only person he regretted deceiving was his father. The man who, in his weakness, had shown in recent months a small spark of affection toward him. Astor knew his father would not survive much longer, and the thought of leaving without a proper farewell pained him. Still, his safety had to be his priority. Faking his death would leave no room for emotional errors. He had to remain cold, calculating, as he had always been.
He sighed and steeled himself as he closed the windows. The shadows began to fall over the Valenford mansion, and with them, Astor's days in that house were drawing to an end.
That same evening, as the Valenford family dined in the main hall, the atmosphere was tense yet ceremonial. The long table was adorned with tall candelabras and refined dishes. Astor, in his usual place, maintained his façade of false indifference, feigning disinterest in everything happening around him. Seated at some distance, his mother, Lady Eleonor, presided over the table with her cold and calculating gaze, ever watchful. To her right, Edmund, the eldest son, spoke proudly of his latest military achievement, boasting with his usual enthusiasm. At the far end of the table sat their younger siblings.
Suddenly, Lady Eleonor raised her hand, and the conversations immediately ceased. Everyone at the table knew that when she spoke, no one interrupted.
"I have an important announcement to make," she said, her voice bearing the commanding tone that characterized the matriarch of the Valenford family.
Astor lifted his gaze slightly, though his mind remained focused on his own plans. The thought of fleeing, of faking his death, was taking shape in his mind. Yet, he had not yet devised the perfect scenario to carry out his escape without raising suspicion.
"Selene Drakenfell, the baroness known as the Lady of the Marsh, will visit us in a few days," Eleonor announced with an icy smile.
The name captured everyone's attention in the room. Selene Drakenfell was well-known, renowned for being unbeatable—a terror to any who opposed her. Though a minor noble, her title had been earned through sheer skill, and despite her lower rank, no one underestimated her. Quite the opposite—her strength was something everyone sought to harness.
"This is a unique opportunity," Lady Eleonor continued. "Selene is a formidable warrior, and her alliance with our family would be invaluable. Therefore, I have decided that she must become Edmund's wife."
"Wait, Mother, I don't want a wife like her. You know that I..."
Edmund tried to protest, but before he could continue, she cut him off.
"Calm yourself, my son. I will not leave your side; think of her merely as a powerful sword at your disposal," she said with a hint of coyness.
The silence that followed was palpable. Astor, slightly uncomfortable, glanced at his elder brother, who, though surprised, now smiled with satisfaction. Edmund had always been their mother's favorite, and now he was being offered the hand of a woman whose power and influence would be an incalculable strategic asset.
"But, Mother, will she agree?" Edmund asked, a note of doubt in his voice. "We all know that despite the many proposals she's received, no one has managed to convince her."
Lady Eleonor nodded calmly, as if she had already anticipated the question.
"You have the skill and determination needed to win any woman, Edmund. And once she knows it, you'll secure a wife worthy of your position. Besides, Lord Solarius will surely assist us in persuading her."
Astor feigned disinterest, but inside, his mind worked feverishly. Selene's arrival not only complicated his plans for escape but could also bring new problems to the family. He knew his mother saw Selene as a powerful ally, someone who would guarantee Edmund's future success. But to Astor, she represented yet another obstacle in his already delicate game of survival.
"Let's hope you're prepared, brother," Astor said with a barely visible smile. "After all, they say the Lady of the Marsh has an indomitable spirit."
Edmund let out a mocking laugh, failing to perceive the sarcasm in his brother's words.
"Don't worry, Astor. Leave the hard tasks to those of us with the skill to handle them."
Astor lowered his gaze, returning to his usual role of the harmless younger brother. Yet, in his mind, he knew that if Edmund succeeded in marrying Selene, his position within the family would become even more precarious. The power she would bring to the Valenfords would solidify Edmund's dominance, making him even more ruthless.
The dinner continued, but for Astor, everything had changed. His mother had planned the wedding with Selene to secure Edmund's future, but he had to ensure that those same plans did not lead to his downfall. Now, more than ever, he needed to find the right moment to disappear.