"How utterly useless can you be, Alissia?"
Matteo Verriton's voice cracked like a whip, his hands slamming the table hard enough to rattle the silverware.
Alissia Verriton stared at him from across the dining table, her fork tracing slow, deliberate circles through the untouched eggs, as if stirring the air above them instead of the food.
"Last night was your final chance to make Sylrick Kartegen fall for you, and you ruined it."
She inhaled slowly through her nose.
Here we go again.
"After everything I have done for you, after the fortune I have poured into you."
Right.
"—you still let some boring Archduchess outshine you."
Alissia did not flinch. "Did you finally agree to have breakfast with me just to hear your own voice, brother?"
The glass of water was in his hand before she could blink.
Then it was in her face — a cold slap of water, sliding down her cheeks like an insult she would not grant the dignity of wiping away.
Matteo crossed to the other side of the table where Alissia sat. His long, soft pink hair fell across his pale face as he gripped the edge, leaning in until she could smell the bitterness on his breath.
"What happens now, Alissia? You've ruined everything. The only chance I had to finally bring down the Kartegens."
A laugh burst out of him, sharp and humorless. "What am I even surprised about? Your beauty is your only saving grace. Like mother, like daughter — all sluts."
Alissia's gaze didn't shift.
For wiping your ass for the past few years.
He plucked a napkin from the table and flicked it into her face.
"Wipe up. My business partners will be here in minutes. You need to look good enough to coax them into signing those papers."
Without waiting for a reply, he straightened, his mood lifting with a false cheer. Then he left the dining room, the echo of his footsteps fading until Alissia was alone in the hollow silence.
She set the napkin down without using it. Hot tears welled in her eyes as her hands curled into fists.
I hate myself.
✦ ✦ ✦
One week later
The warm afternoon air drifted in through the open balcony doors of Kayona's room, carrying the faint scent of jasmine from the gardens below. She sat at her vanity, thumb tracing the worn edge of an open locket that held her parents' portraits, when a knock came at the door.
"Come in," she said.
Baroness Anita Jerom entered, a folded envelope resting on a silver tray. "This arrived by special courier, Your Grace. From Lord Kartegen."
Kayona took the envelope, broke the wax seal, and unfolded the paper. The neat, deliberate handwriting inside was instantly recognizable.
Kayona,
I will arrive at the Obregón estate at noon tomorrow to escort you to Verristone. My parents have agreed to receive you before the wedding.
— Sylrick
Her eyes lingered a moment on the way her name stood alone at the top, unaccompanied by any title. She folded the thought away as quickly as the letter, setting it on the vanity.
Anita's brows rose. "May I ask what it says?"
"That tomorrow," Kayona said evenly, "I will meet my future in-laws."
"Shall I bring you a fresh sheet to write your response, Your Grace?"
Kayona waved her hand. "No need, Anita."
Her gaze drifted to the locket before returning to her reflection.
Two days since Sylrick announced our wedding, the public is already tearing itself in half over it. Predictable. Let them choke on their debates — I'll deal with the consequences when they reach my door.
She turned to Anita with a faint smile.
"I'm sorry, Anita. After the wedding, you'll be serving two Archduchies, and neither will give you a moment's rest."
Anita chuckled softly. "You don't need to worry about me, Your Grace. This is what I signed up for."
Kayona exhaled. "We still have to prepare the Obregón estate for my departure after the wedding. Lord Sylrick has already told me to leave the wedding preparations to him. Relay a message to the estate employees — they'll be meeting with me by the end of the week."
"Consider it done, Your Grace."
Anita bowed and exited the room.
As soon as the door clicked shut, Kayona rose from her vanity and crossed to the balcony. Warm sunlight and a summer breeze poured over her skin, teasing strands of her hair. She leaned against the railing, eyes on the gardens far below.
"Would it all stop," she murmured, "if I jumped?"
A knock broke her thoughts.
"Your Grace, I've come to prepare you for your next business meeting," a servant's voice called through the door.
Kayona turned from the railing toward the entrance.
Oh… right. The foreign merchant from Ateqoir will be here soon to discuss the supply of gold from one of Valchevia's mines.
She sighed, rubbing her forehead. "Enter."
The servant stepped in with a respectful bow, carrying a folded dress and a small case of jewelry. "Shall I assist you in changing, Your Grace?"
Kayona gave a faint nod, her face already settling into the calm, polished mask she wore for every political meeting. "Let's get this over with."
The servant dressed her in a deep green gown trimmed with gold thread, the color chosen to signal prosperity to foreign guests. By the time Kayona descended to the reception hall, her expression was composed, her earlier thoughts buried beneath layers of diplomacy.
Through the tall windows, she watched the merchant from Ateqoir arrive in a polished black motorcar. Two uniformed servants stepped out first, one opening the rear door and the other carrying a leather case. The merchant emerged last — a broad-shouldered man with sun-darkened skin and sharp, calculating eyes, his tailored suit cut from Ateqoiran silk.
Inside the hall, he bowed stiffly. "Your Grace."
Kayona motioned for him to rise and took her seat at the head of the long table. "I trust your journey was comfortable."
"Productive," he replied, gesturing for his servant to place the leather folder before her. "My proposal for the mine in Galdren Province."
She opened it, scanning the contents while keeping her peripheral attention on his every move. "An increase in shipment size and a fixed price per ingot."
He smiled faintly. "A fair deal for both sides."
Her eyes lifted to meet his, cool and unwavering. "Fair deals in Valchevia always favor Valchevia. I will approve the increase in shipment size, but the price will adjust quarterly, based on market shifts. That is my final offer."
The merchant hesitated, then nodded. "Agreed."
The rest of the meeting concluded swiftly. Once the documents were signed, the merchant stepped back out to his waiting motorcar. His driver tipped his cap before starting the engine, and the vehicle rolled smoothly down the estate's main drive, disappearing past the gates.
Kayona stood at the tall window, watching the dust trail fade.
Another obligation met. Another piece moved on the board.
Tomorrow's meeting would be different — not another negotiation, but the next deliberate move in a game she intended to win.