Opening – A Summons from the Duke
The next morning, Kane's quiet walk through the east garden was interrupted by a steward bowing stiffly before him.
"Sir Kane," the man said, voice formal, "His Grace requests your presence. Immediately."
Kane arched a brow. "So early? The Duke must be eager."
The steward avoided eye contact. "Eager, perhaps… concerned, most likely."
Kane followed without hurry, his hands tucked behind his back. He had expected this. Serenya had cracked under his discipline, Vara had bent under his composure—two victories in as many days. It was inevitable that the Duke would notice.
The steward led him into the grand council chamber, where sunlight filtered through tall windows, illuminating rows of banners bearing the Wynvere crest. At the head of a long table sat Duke Rael Wynvere, broad-shouldered, silver-haired, his presence heavy as iron.
"You are the tutor," the Duke said, voice firm, sharp as a blade.
Kane inclined his head slightly. "Kane. At your service, Your Grace."
The Duke studied him in silence, then gestured. "Sit."
Kane did.
For a long moment, the room was quiet save for the faint ticking of a clock. Then the Duke's voice dropped lower.
"My daughters tell me you've been… effective. Too effective."
Section 1 – The Duke's Warning
Kane rested his hands on the table, his grey eyes steady. "Effective is what I was hired to be."
The Duke leaned forward, his gaze piercing. "Serenya is proud, yet you've unsettled her. Vara is reckless, yet you've intrigued her. That is no small feat. And it makes me wary."
"Wary?" Kane asked mildly.
"Yes." The Duke's tone hardened. "Do not mistake your role. You are here to educate, to discipline, to prepare them for the world. Not to entangle yourself in their hearts."
Kane allowed the faintest of smirks. "And if education requires entanglement?"
The Duke's hand twitched, as if resisting the urge to slam his fist on the table. "You tread on dangerous ground, tutor. My daughters are not pawns for your amusement."
"No," Kane said softly, leaning forward now, his words deliberate, cutting. "But neither are they pawns for yours."
The air thickened. For a heartbeat, the Duke's authority wavered against Kane's quiet defiance.
Then—
A gentle voice floated through the chamber.
"Father, must you frighten every man who enters these halls?"
Both men turned as the doors opened.
A woman entered, and the entire room shifted.
Section 2 – The Princess Appears
The doors creaked open, and a soft glow spilled into the chamber as Princess Calista Wynvere stepped inside.
Where Serenya carried herself like a blade and Vara like a fox, Calista moved like flowing water — every step precise, unhurried, her gown of pale lavender trailing like mist behind her. She was breathtaking, but not in the loud, obvious way of beauty. Her allure came from restraint, from the quiet confidence of a woman who didn't need to prove anything.
Her hair was a cascade of golden silk that shimmered in the sunlight, her eyes a cool shade of amethyst, carrying both warmth and calculation. She smiled softly, and even the Duke's sternness eased at the sight.
"Calista," Duke Rael said, exhaling. "You should not interrupt."
"Interrupt?" she echoed lightly, her voice smooth as honey. "No, Father, I only came to… observe."
She walked closer, her presence delicate yet commanding. When her gaze shifted to Kane, something sharp flickered beneath the surface of her calm expression — recognition, as though she'd already heard plenty about him.
"So," she said gently, tilting her head just slightly. "You are the tutor who unsettled my elder sister… and intrigued Vara enough to break curfew."
Kane inclined his head, his grey eyes steady on her. "And you must be Princess Calista, the jewel of the Wynvere household."
Her lips curved, amused. "Flattery already? Careful, tutor. I am not so easily charmed."
"Neither am I," Kane replied smoothly.
For a heartbeat, silence. Then her smile deepened, like a chess player recognizing a worthy opponent across the board.
"You speak boldly," Calista said, taking the seat opposite him without asking permission. "I like boldness… so long as it doesn't become recklessness."
The Duke frowned. "Calista—"
"Father," she interrupted softly, her tone respectful but firm. "If you truly want him to educate us, you must let him teach in his own way. Hovering like a hawk will only stifle progress."
The Duke's jaw tightened, but he said nothing.
Kane's smirk grew faintly. Interesting. She defends me, but not for me. She defends me to gain leverage.
Calista turned back to Kane, resting her chin lightly on her knuckles. "Tell me, tutor… what is it you seek to achieve with us? Surely not just letters and numbers."
Her question was simple, but her tone was layered. She wasn't asking for an answer. She was testing his.
Kane leaned back slightly, as relaxed as if he were in his own domain. "What I seek?" His voice was calm, deliberate. "To sharpen the blades the world underestimates. Whether that blade is steel, wit, or ambition… doesn't matter."
Her amethyst eyes flickered, intrigued. "A dangerous answer."
"Only for those who fear sharpened edges," Kane replied evenly.
The Duke shifted uncomfortably at the tension sparking between them, but Calista only smiled, serene and unbothered.
"Then perhaps," she said softly, "I will enjoy watching your lessons unfold, Kane."
She spoke his name with deliberate ease, as if tasting it — testing the weight of the man who dared to stand firm before her father.
Section 3 – A Dance of Words
The Duke's voice broke the silence.
"Enough. I have said what needed to be said."
He rose heavily from his chair, the weight of duty pressing into every step. His eyes lingered on Kane for a long, warning-filled moment before turning to his daughter.
"Calista," he said sternly, "do not linger. I will not have this… debate extend into indulgence."
"Of course, Father," she replied sweetly, bowing her head with perfect obedience. But the faintest glint in her eyes told another story.
When the chamber doors shut behind the Duke, the air shifted. Lighter. Quieter. Yet sharper, like a bowstring pulled taut.
Calista didn't move immediately. She remained where she was, fingers tracing the polished wood of the table, her gaze half-lidded but unwavering on Kane.
"You rattled him," she said finally, her tone soft, almost playful. "That doesn't happen often."
Kane leaned back in his chair, completely at ease. "Perhaps he isn't as immovable as he thinks."
Her lips curved. "Careful. My father may bend, but he does not break."
"And you?" Kane asked, his voice low, deliberate. "Do you bend?"
Calista's amethyst eyes glittered. She rose slowly, walking to his side with measured grace. Every step carried intention — not the bold provocation of Vara nor the rigid pride of Serenya, but something subtler. A queen's walk, not a girl's.
She leaned slightly over his chair, her perfume drifting between them like a whispered secret.
"I don't bend," she murmured near his ear. "I… guide. Persuade. And when needed…" Her fingers brushed the edge of his sleeve, feather-light. "…I control."
Kane turned his head just enough to meet her gaze up close. Grey against amethyst.
"Control is fragile," he said calmly. "It lasts only until someone refuses to play by your rules."
For the briefest moment, her smile froze. Then it returned, deeper, more dangerous.
"Then perhaps I should make rules even you cannot resist."
She straightened, moving back toward the table, her poise never faltering. It was as if the brief crack in her mask had been a trick in itself.
Kane watched her closely, his smirk faint. So this is her game. Not to seduce, not to intimidate — but to bind with invisible chains.
And yet, he found himself amused. Challenged.
"Lesson five, Princess," Kane said finally, his tone casual but edged. "A chain is still a chain, no matter how beautifully gilded. And chains break."
Calista turned at the door, her gown swaying like silk curtains in the breeze.
Her smile was serene, but her eyes were sharp daggers hidden in velvet.
"Perhaps, Tutor," she replied smoothly. "But we'll see whose chains break first."
With that, she was gone, leaving only the faint echo of her perfume and the lingering taste of a battle that had only just begun.
🌙 Closing Scene
Kane leaned back in the empty chamber, exhaling quietly.
Serenya's pride. Vara's mischief. Calista's elegance.
Three different walls. Three different battles.
And each one, in its own way, had already begun to crack.
He smiled faintly, his eyes glinting.
This household will be far more entertaining than I imagined.
🌙 Next Chapter Preview
In the next chapter…
Kane receives his first official day of lessons with all three sisters present.
Tension sparks immediately — Serenya bristles at Vara's teasing, Vara delights in stirring chaos, and Calista sits back, smiling like a queen watching her pawns.
But Kane has his own plan. Instead of letting their rivalries play out, he flips the board entirely… forcing the sisters to turn their attention not on each other, but on him.
📢 Author's Note / CTA
🔥 That's the end of Chapter 3 of Private Tutor of the Princess and Her Sisters!
If you're enjoying Kane's battles of wit, pride, and seduction with the Wynvere sisters, don't forget to add this novel to your library, vote with power stones, and leave a comment. Your support pushes the story forward!