By the time Seren finished getting ready, she felt the usual unease creeping in. Something wasn't quite right, but she couldn't put her finger on it. There was an odd tension in the air, one that didn't feel like the aftermath of an event, but something else. Something brewing beneath the surface.
As Seren settled into her office later that morning, trying to focus on her work, the feeling persisted. It was a gut instinct she'd learned to trust—the kind of feeling you get when something is about to change, but you're not yet sure how.
Her thoughts were interrupted when her phone rang. It was Vivia.
Seren answered quickly, trying to sound as composed as possible. "Hey, Vivia. What's up?"
Vivia's voice was tight, sharp with an edge of frustration. "Seren, you need to hear this. There's a rumor going around, and it's about you."
Seren's heart skipped a beat, but she didn't let her reaction show. Her voice remained calm as she leaned back in her chair. "What kind of rumor?"
Vivia hesitated for a moment, and when she spoke again, there was a tinge of disbelief in her tone. "They're saying you're just like the others—using Kael for his name and wealth. That you only married him for the title, that you don't care about him."
Seren's fingers tightened around the edge of her desk. The accusation felt familiar, as if it was designed to pierce right to her core. But instead of reacting, she took a deep breath and focused on her steadying composure.
"I see," Seren murmured, her voice controlled.
Vivia continued, her frustration clear. "It's ridiculous! I'm going to find out who's spreading this nonsense. This—this isn't right."
"Vivia," Seren interjected calmly, her tone softer now, "don't do anything rash. There's no need to start a fight over this."
Vivia let out an exasperated sigh. "But—"
"I'll handle it," Seren assured her. "I know how to deal with this. Just let it blow over for now."
Vivia didn't respond immediately, and Seren could sense her friend's hesitation. But after a pause, Vivia finally relented, her voice softening. "Alright, but if you need anything, just say the word. I'm not letting anyone get away with this."
"I know, Vivia. Thanks," Seren replied, a small smile touching her lips even though Vivia couldn't see it.
The conversation ended, and Seren sat back, deep in thought. A heavy silence filled the room. She'd already suspected it—had already guessed who was behind the rumor. Elara. She couldn't prove it, not yet, but the feeling in her gut told her everything she needed to know.
Elara was making her move faster than Seren had expected.
But Seren wouldn't let it rattle her. She wasn't going to give Elara the satisfaction of reacting. She would let the woman expose herself—she didn't need to fight back right now. It would play out in its own time.
Seren glanced at the window, her thoughts growing quieter, more resolute. Let Elara think she could shake her. She was more than capable of standing her ground.
Kael was reviewing reports in his office when Lucas entered, his usual professional demeanor carrying an undercurrent of hesitation. Kael didn't look up immediately—if Lucas had something to report, he would speak. And he did.
"There's been talk circulating among the elites," Lucas said, his voice steady but cautious. "Rumors about Young Madam."
Kael's pen stilled against the document. "What kind of rumors?"
Lucas adjusted his stance, choosing his words carefully. "That she married into the Velyne family for wealth and power. That you're nothing more than a pawn in her ambition."
The air in the room shifted.
Kael leaned back in his chair, his cold gaze lifting to meet Lucas'. His expression remained unreadable, but the temperature seemed to drop.
"Who started it?"
Lucas had been expecting that question. "There's no concrete source yet, but several influential circles have been discussing it. Some are merely whispering, but others…" He paused. "It seems deliberate."
Kael's fingers tapped lightly against his desk. Calculated. A setup. This wasn't the kind of idle gossip that spread on its own. Someone had planted it.
He already had a suspicion of who.
"Elara?"
Lucas' gaze flickered slightly. "It's possible. She was seen speaking with several influential figures at the event. And considering her history…"
Kael's jaw tensed, but his expression remained impassive.
"She's making her move earlier than expected," he murmured.
Lucas hesitated for a brief second before asking, "Should we handle it?"
Kael was silent for a moment. He could have this buried in an instant. A single call, a quiet warning, and these rumors would never see the light of day again.
But that wasn't the issue.
The issue was her.
Seren.
How would she handle this? Would she panic? Confront the rumors? Make a reckless move?
No.
Kael's mind immediately dismissed the idea. Seren wasn't the type to react carelessly. She would measure her steps. She wouldn't make herself look weak.
And that intrigued him.
Still, he wouldn't allow this to escalate further.
"Find out who's been talking," Kael ordered. His voice was calm, but Lucas knew better than to mistake it for indifference. "Track the source back to its origin. And make sure they understand—"
Kael's gaze darkened, his meaning clear.
Lucas nodded. "Understood, Young Master."
As Lucas left, Kael leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. His fingers intertwined as he considered his next move.
Elara was playing her game.
Fine.
But if she thought she could manipulate the narrative this easily, she had underestimated both him and Seren.
And that was a mistake Kael never forgave.
That morning, as Seren was reviewing documents in her office, a soft knock interrupted her focus. One of the estate staff entered, carrying a delicate envelope sealed with an embossed crest.
"Young Madam, this arrived for you."
Seren accepted it with a slight tilt of her head. The envelope was thick, the paper high-quality—undeniably from someone of status. Breaking the seal, she unfolded the letter and scanned its contents.
It was an invitation.
From Rosalind Hawthorne.
The name was familiar. Seren had come across it in the information Kael had given her about the elite circles. Rosalind was the wife of one of Kael's acquaintances, someone respected and well-connected. But more importantly—she was known for being warm yet discerning.
The invitation was for an exclusive afternoon gathering, an event attended by the most influential women among the elites. A space where reputations were quietly made or destroyed.
A sharp glint flickered in Seren's gaze.
So, the game had begun.
She could already sense the underlying currents. This was no mere social event—it was an opportunity. An opportunity to face the rumors, to see who dared to look down on her, and most importantly… to remind them exactly who she was.
A slow, composed smile graced her lips.
Challenge accepted.
Seren arrived home after a long day, her mind preoccupied with the invitation she had received earlier. She walked through the familiar halls of the mansion, her thoughts swirling as she thought about how she would navigate the gathering.
Soon after, Kael returned from work—his usual composed, distant self, barely acknowledging the passage of time as he moved through the house. Dinner followed, as it always did. Quiet, uneventful, filled with the same routine. They sat at the dining table, the weight of their silence punctuated only by the clinking of silverware.
After they finished, they retired to their room. Seren changed into something more comfortable, the soft fabric of her nightgown brushing against her skin as she moved around the room. Kael, as usual, made no mention of the day's events.
It was only after the soft hum of the night settled in and they were both preparing for sleep that Seren finally decided to bring up the invitation.
The evening had passed in its usual calm, a quiet dinner shared between them. The moment they returned to their room, a sense of normalcy returned. Seren busied herself with a few final tasks, putting the day's thoughts to rest. Kael, as always, maintained his composed demeanor, changing into his night clothes without a word.
Seren stood by the window for a moment, looking out at the city's sparkling lights, her thoughts still on the invitation she had received earlier in the day. Rosalind Hawthorne, the wife of one of Kael's acquaintances from the top families, had invited her to an upcoming event.
She had no idea what Rosalind's true intentions were, but there was something in her demeanor that suggested a genuine curiosity about Seren. The invitation itself had felt... warm, in a way that contrasted with the usual cold formality of the elite world.
Turning away from the window, Seren placed the invitation on the nearby table and walked over to Kael, who was now seated on the edge of the bed, his eyes briefly meeting hers as she approached.
"I received an invitation today," Seren said, breaking the silence.
Kael's fingers paused mid-motion as he adjusted his cufflinks. His eyes flickered to her, his expression still unreadable. "From who?"
"Rosalind Hawthorne," Seren replied, her voice steady. "She's hosting a gathering for some of the elites."
Kael's gaze sharpened slightly, though his expression remained calm. "Hawthorne…" he murmured, as if considering the name. "The Hawthornes are well-connected. Not someone you want to underestimate."