CHAPTER 80
The Retamis Estate was unlike anything Velthira had ever known.
It was too warm.
Too gentle.
Too kind.
The way the maids brushed her hair in the morning and helped her change into soft silk and velvet made her feel like she was dreaming.
She was no longer fed crusts off the floor, but full-course meals served on porcelain.
The halls didn't echo with shouting, but with soft laughter and piano music drifting from the drawing room.
And people smiled when they saw her.
Not the sneering kind, not the suspicious kind. Real, warm smiles.
At first, she couldn't bring herself to smile back. She didn't know how.
But days turned into weeks. And weeks, into months. And slowly, her shoulders relaxed. Her bruises faded. Her laughter, though quiet, returned.
She was dressed like one of them.
Treated like one of them.
And they made her feel, for the first time in her life, like she belonged.
But that very feeling... terrified her.
What if they found out?
What if they knew where she came from? That her parents were criminals, thieves, the kind of people nobles whispered about in disgust? What if all of this-every kind word, every clean bed-was fragile, waiting to be shattered the moment they learned the truth?
She tried not to think about it.
Until the day her past came knocking.
It was a spring morning. The garden was alive with color-petunias and celestials in bloom, butterflies drifting through ivy-wrapped trellises.
Velthira sat on the bench near the fountain, her fingers brushing the soft petals of a daisy crown a maid had made for her.
She was smiling then-genuinely. Eyes closed, breathing in the scent of fresh rain and morning dew.
Then a hurried maid came.
Velthira opened her eyes, still smiling. "Is it the Grand Duke?"
The maid hesitated. "It's... a woman. She says she's your mother."
Velthira froze.
The daisy crown slipped from her fingers and fell to the ground.
For a moment, she didn't move. The air around her turned cold, despite the sunshine. She couldn't breathe. Couldn't think.
And then her body stood on its own.
She walked slowly, every step heavier than the last. Her fingers clenched tightly against her skirt.
And when she entered the receiving hall, there she was.
Velthira's mother. Standing by the doorway, her dress in tatters, but her chin high-eyes sharp and calculating.
No tears nor warmth but only the bitter smile of someone who had something to gain.
The words hit her like knives.
All this time, she thought maybe.. maybe.. her mother had come because she missed her. Because, despite everything, she still loved her daughter.
'I-I thought you still love me.. a-am I too disobedient? S-should I go back?'
But she knew that she didn't come to bring her home. She came to sell her.
Velthira couldn't breathe.
Her voice gave out as tears spilled down her cheeks. The shame. The guilt. The voice in her head screaming:
The maids rushed to her, worried, reaching out to soothe her, but she flinched from their touch. She didn't want to be touched. Didn't want to be seen.
Not like this.
Until a pair of warm arms wrapped tightly around her.
A voice, soft and low, spoke right into her ear.
Velthira gasped.
She looked up and saw her.
Liora, the elder daughter of another noble household under the Grand Duke's patronage. A girl 3 years older than her, who always braided her hair gently, who always saved the last sweet roll at dinner for her.
Velthira clutched her like a lifeline.
The room was silent except for Velthira's quiet sobs.
The Grand Duke entered a few moments later, having already been informed of the woman's demands. His expression was stone, unreadable.
He looked at Velthira then at the woman who bore her.
The woman scoffed and rallied when she was dragged by the guards.
Liora covered Velthira's eyes so she wouldn't see such a sight.
And as the door closed behind her, Velthira's sobs slowed. Her heartbeat still thundered in her chest-but for once, it wasn't fear.
It was the echo of something being lifted.. of a chain breaking.
Velthira fainted the moment her mother left the estate. Her knees gave out as her body finally gave in to the weight of fear, shame, and exhaustion that she'd been carrying for years.
The physician came rushing in, followed closely by the Grand Duke and Liora.
And so, she slept.
Days passed.
Each day, the Grand Duke came and sat beside her bed in silence, leaving fresh flowers and the books he'd noticed she loved to reread. Every afternoon, Liora came with stories, humming songs and brushing Velthira's hair even while she slept.
Weeks passed.
Her body recovered faster than her heart. But slowly-bit by bit-she started sitting up again. Started sketching again, drawing soft outlines of swords and mythical creatures in the notebook the Grand Duke gifted her.
Then, one warm afternoon, she heard the door creak open again.
Familiar, chipper footsteps entered the room.
Velthira looked up from her sketchbook, her fingers still tracing a sword's blade in ink.
She blinked.
Someone was with Liora.
A boy.
He was tall-older than her by a few years, maybe a year or two older than Liora even. He wore a dark green coat, trimmed in silver embroidery, and his black gloves were half-pulled off, as if Liora had dragged him all the way there before he could even finish dressing.
He was... not pleased.
'Huh?'
Velthira blinked.
Her eyes narrowed just a little in curiosity.
The boy glanced over at her, expression unreadable but not cruel. Just... distant and reserved. He had striking features, sharp eyes the color of forged steel, and a faint scar near his jawline that looked like it came from real combat.
He didn't bow. Didn't even offer a polite smile.
Liora rolled her eyes. "Vel, meet my grumpy old friend-Zeviel Auren Winzace. Auren, this is Velthira, my sister."
Auren gave a small nod-barely more than a tilt of the chin. "Hi."
Velthira, still seated by the window with her sketchbook on her lap, stared for a moment longer.
Zeviel raised an eyebrow, but Liora burst into laughter.
..............
Velthira sat at the edge of the garden, sketching swords again. Her brows were furrowed in concentration, tongue poking from the corner of her mouth like she was about to duel the paper.
Velthira didn't look up. "I like the things that could protect me."
'Protect me from my harsh world..'
Liora hummed thoughtfully. "Then I think it's time you stop sketching swords and start wielding one."
Velthira froze. "What?"
Footsteps came closer behind them.
Zeviel stepped into view, dressed in his training clothes, sword slung across his back like it weighed nothing. His tone was as flat as week-old bread.
Velthira stood up instantly. "No. Nope. I'm not learning anything from him."
Liora burst out laughing. "Gods, you two are chaos."
Zeviel tossed a wooden sword at Velthira, who caught it just barely and nearly fell over.
She scowled. "What am I supposed to do with this? Chew it?"
Zeviel smirked. "Oh no, it's for decoration. You're supposed to stand there and look pretty while I fight the imaginary enemies for you."
The first lesson was a disaster.
Velthira gripped the sword with both hands like it was a giant fish she didn't know how to hold. Zeviel circled her like a hawk judging a mouse.
Velthira glared. "Well, maybe if someone didn't throw it at me like a boar carcass-"
Liora, sitting under a nearby tree, was doubled over in laughter. "This is the best decision I've ever made."
Velthira lunged. Zeviel sidestepped effortlessly and flicked her forehead with the tip of his wooden blade.
"YOU-!!"
Velthira charged again, full tilt.
Liora screamed between wheezes of laughter, "Zev, Vel, PLEASE don't break the garden fountain this time!!"
Zeviel narrowly dodged a wildly swung sword. Velthira spun, nearly tripped over a stone, and regained balance only because she grabbed Zeviel's sleeve and yanked him off-balance with her.
They both crashed to the grass, groaning.
Liora applauded. "And they said romance is dead."
..............
The marble hall had been cleared just for them. Golden sunlight filtered through stained glass windows, casting fractured hues across the polished floor.
Velthira stood before the Grand Duke, her tiny hands curling and uncurling over her sleeves.
She gave a hesitant nod. "They're... strong."
Velthira looked down, then up. "Yes."
He knelt to meet her gaze. "Then you shall be. But are you ready for it to be difficult?"
From behind the pillars, a bored sigh echoed. "I'm right here, brat."
The Grand Duke chuckled, unshaken. "Then tolerate each other. Or argue with blades, if you must." His expression softened. "You have my permission, little one."
And with that, Velthira's days of sword training began.
Every morning, the Retamis estate echoed with the sound of wood against wood and... very loud arguing.
Zeviel Auren Winzace dodged a wildly aimed swing with the grace of a cat, leaning back just enough to let Velthira's wooden sword slice air before clicking his tongue.
Velthira glared, sweat matting her silver hair to her forehead. "Stop talking like you're some sage master. You're just a grumpy sword nerd with better footwork."
The blade she swung next made Zeviel raise an eyebrow.
It was faster.
Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months.
And then, one morning, it happened.
Velthira moved like wind cutting through silk. Her body shifted, her feet danced on the floor with grace and intent. She parried Zeviel's strike with smooth precision, spun, and tapped his shoulder with the tip of her sword.
Zeviel blinked.
Liora, peeking from a nearby balcony, gasped and nearly fell over.
Velthira smirked. "Say it. I won. Go on."
Zeviel crossed his arms. "You got lucky."
Liora screamed with laughter. "Vel, you're my hero!"
Behind the walls of their bright life, shadows move in silence.
Deep in the Retamis underground, Velthira's mother-the woman who raised her with violence and scorn-was shackled and gaunt. She whimpered, but the guards did not speak. They only followed the Grand Duke's orders with cold precision.
The last thing she saw was a single candle flickering out.
Elsewhere, Velthira's father had long vanished. None in the capital knew where he'd gone. The truth was buried beneath the earth. Quiet. Merciless. Justice delivered by the Grand Duke himself.
He'd learned every wound they inflicted on Velthira.
He made sure they would never do so again.
'You hurt our Velthira for so long, tortured her. She deserves everything and you deserve nothing.'
..............
The whispers among the aristocracy began not long after.
They said it behind fans, behind wine glasses, behind closed doors.
But none dared speak it before the Grand Duke.
Because when Duke Retamis walked into council chambers, silence followed. And when he looked someone in the eye, their throat closed with unspoken fear.
In her little world, Velthira didn't hear the insults. She was too busy being yelled at by Zeviel.
Liora burst into giggles from her garden bench. "Gods, I live for this."
Velthira rolled her eyes and turned her back to Zeviel, hiding the smallest of smiles.
She still didn't believe she deserved this peace.
But every time the Grand Duke looked at her with those tired, warm eyes-
Every time Liora hugged her without asking why she flinched-
Every time Zeviel caught her sword and said, "Better. Do it again."
She began to wonder...
Maybe she could learn to live like she belonged.
.
.
The moonlight spilled through the open balcony like pale silk, pooling over the marble floors of Velthira's room. Crickets chirped faintly outside, the only sound in the stillness.
Velthira sat cross-legged on the couch, a wool blanket tucked around her shoulders. She was sketching absently into a leather-bound journal-swirls of silver lines that barely formed shapes. She didn't notice when Liora entered.
Velthira blinked. "Couldn't sleep."
Liora padded across the room, her long robe whispering as she sat beside her. She leaned her head against Velthira's shoulder.
'What if..'
Liora didn't answer at first.
Then, softly, she said, "Even if they try, I'll stay with you. That's a promise."
Velthira looked down. Her voice cracked. "You really mean that?"
Velthira smiled, lips trembling.
For the first time in a long time, she let her head lean on someone else's shoulder.
"You do," Liora said without hesitation. "You always have."
Five years later..
The Retamis estate had changed. Fortified walls. Enhanced security. Hidden runes. The Grand Duke spared no effort in strengthening the stronghold because it housed his most precious person.
And Velthira?
She was no longer a trembling child.
Graceful, sharp-eyed, draped in elegant silks embroidered with muted gold-Velthira carried herself with the poise of nobility. She had learned etiquette, diplomacy, combat, law, and strategy.
She stood beside the Grand Duke in councils.
She silenced entire rooms with a glance.
But behind her calm, polished exterior...
Zeviel Auren Winzace still made her want to throw things.
Velthira sat stiffly on her bed, trying not to let her face betray her.
Liora tilted her head. "Was it because Zeviel was talking to that blonde girl from House Ultheim?"
Velthira scowled. "He's just thoughtful. Not like that. Stop making it a thing."
Liora burst into laughter, dropping beside her on the bed. "You're blushing, my terrifying little sword prodigy."
Velthira threw a pillow at her, red-faced.
Liora only cackled more.
Meanwhile..
Zeviel stood alone on the training balcony, arms folded, eyes on the moonlit estate gardens below.
A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
He closed his eyes, sighing.