“Don’t do this right now.”
“Do what?” She let out a hollow laugh, her chest rising with uneven breath. “Speak my mind? Tell you exactly what I think, just like he does?”
His gaze sharpened.
There it was.
The moment Lucavion’s presence entered the conversation, even unspoken, the air shifted.
Aeliana took a step forward, chin lifted in defiance. “What are you really trying to say?” she pressed. “That I should let him go? That I should forget all the things he’s done? That I should just—just comply like I always have, because you have already determined my future?”
She could feel the fire in her chest, the way the words cut into her as they left her lips. But she didn’t stop. She couldn’t.
“After all, you already arranged my marriage, didn’t you?” Her voice turned razor-sharp, laced with venom. “You decided that I needed to be useful—that if I couldn’t bring value through strength, then I could at least serve as a convenient piece in your political game.”
The Duke’s jaw tensed. He didn’t deny it. He couldn’t.
And that was the worst part.
Aeliana swallowed the knot forming in her throat, her breath trembling as she forced herself to meet his gaze. “You didn’t care about what I wanted. You never have.” She inhaled sharply. “But he did.”
The words left her before she could stop them.
The admission tasted like something bitter, something raw, something she had never dared to say aloud before now.
Lucavion saw her. Not as a noble’s daughter, not as a fragile thing to be handled delicately, not as someone to be pitied or controlled.
He saw her—in all her rage, in all her brokenness, in all the pieces she had tried so hard to bury.
And he had never once looked away.
Aeliana’s fingers trembled at her sides. She wanted to take the words back. Wanted to deny them.
But she couldn’t.
Aeliana’s breath came quicker, uneven, her chest rising and falling as if she had just come from a fight. But wasn’t this a fight? One that had been waiting—lurking beneath years of unspoken words and expectations—just waiting for the moment to break free?
Her father remained still, his golden eyes steady. Unreadable.
But she knew what was coming next.
It would be the same as always.
He would say that Lucavion wasn’t suited for their family. That he was reckless, unstable, dangerous. That her future had already been set in stone, her path decided long before she had any say in it.
That her marriage had already been arranged.
That she owed it to the family.
That she had to be useful.
Her fingers clenched into fists. ‘I already know. I already know what you’re going to say, so just say it. Just—just get it over with.’
“I won’t listen,” she said, voice tight, her jaw locking. “I won’t sit here and pretend to care about another lecture about duty and honor and responsibility. I know what my purpose is supposed to be, but for once, just—just let me choose—”
“Aeliana.”
Her father’s voice was quiet.
Steady.
Almost… weary.
“Please,” he said, “listen to me. Just this once.”
She stiffened.
No sharp rebuttal. No cold reminder of obligation. No immediate dismissal of her words.
It threw her off balance, just for a moment.
Aeliana’s lips parted—then shut.
But the hesitation lasted only a second before the fire inside her surged back to the surface.
“Listen?” she echoed, a sharp, breathless laugh escaping her throat. “Why? So you can tell me he’s unworthy? That he’s not a part of our world? That he’s just another mistake I need to correct?”
Her father exhaled through his nose, but his expression remained unreadable.
“Or maybe you were going to remind me,” she continued, her voice gaining momentum, “that I already belong to someone else, that I have no right to want anything because I was already promised away before I even had a say in it?”
Her voice cracked slightly at the end, but she pushed forward, stepping closer, her golden eyes burning.
“Just admit it,” she snapped. “That’s what this is about, isn’t it? That no matter what I do, no matter what I want, my life isn’t really my own. It never was.”
Her father closed his eyes for the briefest second, as if steeling himself. But it didn’t matter.
Aeliana was too far gone now.
“And it’s always the same,” she continued, voice thick with something close to desperation. “You tell me I should understand, that I should accept it, that this is how things have to be. But why? Why do I have to accept it? Why do I have to be the one to give up—”
“AELIANA!”
The Duke’s voice lashed through the air like a whip.
Sharp. Commanding. Final.
Aeliana flinched.
The entire room fell into silence.
Thaddeus remained silent.
Aeliana frowned slightly, unsure of what to make of the moment.
Just a second ago, her father had spoken with firm intent, questioning her. And yet—
Now he simply looked at her.
No glare. No stern lecture. No impatience.
Just silence.
Her fingers twitched at her sides.
This wasn’t normal.
“Father?” she asked carefully.
Still, nothing.
She watched as his golden eyes remained fixed on her, but at the same time—
They weren’t.
They were looking past her.
At something distant. At something long gone.
Then, at last, he spoke.
“You really look like her.”
Aeliana’s breath caught.
The shift in the air was immediate.
Her lips pressed together, a faint tension settling in her shoulders.
“She was like you, too,” Thaddeus continued, his voice quieter now.
Aeliana didn’t need to ask who he was talking about.
He never spoke about her.
Never allowed himself to.
Her mother.
The woman who had shaped the Thaddeus Duchy alongside him. The woman who had always smiled so softly, yet carried strength beneath it. The woman who had been the light of their house—
And the woman who had been taken from them.
Aeliana swallowed.
Thaddeus’ gaze grew distant, as if the weight of memory had settled over him entirely.
“It was by accident that I met her,” he murmured. “Back then, I was just a fool obsessed with war. With proving myself. I had no intention of thinking about marriage, nor did I care for the court’s whispers about suitable matches. And yet—”
His golden eyes flickered.
“She was there.”
His lips pressed into a thin line, as if even recalling the past felt foreign to him now.
“She was never supposed to be part of my world,” he muttered. “And yet, from the moment she stepped into it, she refused to leave.”
Aeliana inhaled softly, standing still, watching.
Her father never spoke about this.
Thaddeus exhaled, his gaze slipping past the present, back into something distant, something long buried. Find more chapters on My Virtual Library Empire
“It was during one of my father’s campaigns,” he murmured. “I was sent to the northern borderlands—just another political gesture, a show of power to ensure the loyalty of our vassals. I had no interest in it. No interest in diplomacy, in playing the perfect son, the perfect noble. All I cared for was war.”
His fingers twitched slightly, as if remembering the weight of a sword.
“But then—” He let out a quiet breath. “Then I met her.”
Aeliana said nothing. She only listened.
She had never heard this story before.
Her father never spoke about her mother.
Not ever.
Thaddeus’ golden eyes flickered, lost in the memory.
“At first, I didn’t realize she was the heir of the Viscounty,” he admitted. “When we arrived, I expected to be greeted by the lord of the house. That was how it always was. The head of the family, or the eldest son—not a woman.”
Aeliana’s brows furrowed slightly.
She could already imagine it.
A gathering of armored men, all standing tall and stiff, waiting for the proper exchange of words, for the ceremonial gestures of loyalty.
And instead—
Instead, there she was.
Her mother.
Standing among them, completely at ease.
At home.
Thaddeus exhaled softly.
“I mistook her for a knight at first,” he continued. “She wasn’t dressed like a noblewoman. No silks. No jewels. Just a tunic, riding leathers, and a sword at her side.”
His voice dropped slightly, almost amused.
“She looked as though she belonged on the battlefield, not in a court.”
And that alone had intrigued him.
Even if he hadn’t admitted it at the time.
Aeliana could picture it—the way her mother must have stood there, arms crossed, unimpressed, meeting Thaddeus’ arrival not with timid greetings but with quiet defiance.
The Duke’s lips twitched.
“I remember the first thing she ever said to me,” he murmured. “She took one look at my armor, at the way I carried myself, and said—”
His voice shifted, his tone lowering just slightly, imitating hers.
“Oh. You’re the Duke’s son? You look like you have a stick up your ass.”
Aeliana blinked.