Soren Arden POV
"Announcing. Countess Sofia Arden."
The herald's voice rang across the grand hall, crisp and reverberating beneath the glittering chandeliers.
Instantly, the murmurs of nobles quieted into reverent silence.
The sound of a woman's heels clicking upon the marble floor followed, rhythmic and deliberate, echoing like a royal procession.
Soren's eyes lifted from his empty glass of wine.
Across the room, the sea of nobles parted like obedient waves.
Sofia Arden stepped into the hall with the grace of someone who had lived their entire life at the centre of attention.
Her long, straight black hair shimmered under the golden light, cascading down her back like a dark veil.
Her pale red eyes, so faint they were almost pink, swept the crowd with poised indifference.
Every movement she made seemed calculated, elegant and regal.
'Sofia…'
Soren's jaw tightened, and his gaze grew cold as his fingers dug into his thighs beneath the table.
There was no warmth in his eyes, only a quiet, simmering storm.
He could feel his pulse quickening and his breathing growing heavy.
The bloodlust was there, silent but eager, coiling within his chest like a waiting serpent.
"...Are you okay?" Louise's soft voice broke through the tension beside him.
Soren blinked, the world snapping back into clarity, and his hands loosened slightly.
Louise was leaning toward him, her brows furrowed in concern, and her tone quiet enough that the nearby nobles wouldn't overhear.
"...Yeah," he muttered after a beat, forcing his jaw to relax. "Just spaced out, that's all."
Louise's crimson eyes lingered on his own for a moment longer, but she didn't press.
Instead, she leaned back, crossing her arms, her lips forming a faint smirk that said 'I'm watching you.'
Soren exhaled slowly and turned his gaze elsewhere, anywhere but Sofia.
Across the glittering crowd, near the far side of the ballroom, a familiar shade of red caught his attention.
Crusch Aurelia Fialova.
The first princess of Fialova.
The concubine's daughter with no claim to the throne.
The final of the three main heroines of TKS.
Her orange eyes shimmered like molten gold beneath the chandeliers, her hair flowing like a wave of magma down her back.
Even from across the hall, she stood out effortlessly, surrounded by fawning nobles desperate to curry favour.
But it wasn't just her beauty that drew his eye; it was the composure.
The quiet, calculating calm behind that graceful smile.
'She's just like what I remember.'
Soren's lips twitched faintly at the thought.
The same cold poise, the same faint look of superiority masking fear.
She played her role well, all charm and refinement, while her eyes measured every person she spoke to as if weighing their worth in gold.
She was Soren's favourite of the heroines, the one who had brought him countless laughs during his playtime of TKS.
'She's still beautiful, though.'
His gaze softened slightly, if only for a heartbeat.
'I guess I should be glad I got to see her earlier than expected. She wasn't meant to appear until next year…'
Crusch's gaze flicked in his direction, just for a moment, and their eyes met across the hall.
And then, she looked away.
Dismissive.
As if he were no one of consequence.
'Heh. Still the same too.'
He was glad that his favourite heroine remained unchanged, but before Soren could linger on that thought, a faint murmur rippled throughout the hall.
His eyes followed the subtle shift in the crowd's attention.
Sofia was moving again, making her way through the nobles, each one bowing or curtsying as she passed.
Even among the swarm of Fialovan elite, her presence dominated.
The smile she wore was gentle, almost angelic, but Soren could see the truth behind it, the sharpness hidden beneath the surface.
Every word that left her mouth was elegant, every gesture immaculate, but the tone… the tone carried venom so faintly sweet that only those who knew her could detect it.
She stopped to exchange pleasantries with a marquis, her voice calm and polite.
Yet the subtle tilt of her head, the way her eyes lingered on his wife a beat too long, made it clear she was quietly cutting him apart.
Soren watched it all with detached disgust.
'She's still playing her games…'
When she finally reached the stage, she turned and gave a light, deliberate clap.
Clap!
The sound was soft, yet somehow commanding.
The orchestra fell silent, and the room followed, all whispers and laughter ceasing into an expectant hush.
Then, Sofia began to speak.
"Ladies and gentlemen," her voice rang clearly, confident and clear. "I thank you all for attending this evening's gathering, held in the name of the noble House of Arden."
Her tone carried the practised warmth of a seasoned speaker.
"As you all know," she continued, folding her fan before her, "our family has long served as the kingdom's first shield, the defenders of Fialova's borders. It is by the sacrifice of our men, and the vigilance of my ancestors, that this land remains safe from the monsters and demons beyond."
A few murmurs of agreement and applause fluttered through the crowd.
Sofia smiled faintly, letting her gaze sweep over them like a benevolent queen.
"Our duty has never been easy, but it is one we bear with pride. Though our lands may be cold and harsh, the hearts of our people remain unyielding."
Her words dripped with poetic flourish.
It was the kind of speech that could move the uninitiated, an elegant mask of patriotism hiding the stench of arrogance beneath.
Soren sat in silence, his expression unreadable, but inside all he felt was disdain.
'She makes it sound so noble and pure, as if she's some saviour of the kingdom.'
Then, just as he was thinking that, Sofia's smile faltered just slightly, her voice softening into a tone of delicate sorrow.
"Yet, there are prices we must pay. Not long ago… my beloved daughter, Freya Arden, was taken from us."
The hall fell into respectful silence.
Several nobles lowered their heads, and others murmured condolences.
Soren's body, however, went rigid.
'Freya…'
The name alone was enough to make his stomach twist.
His nails dug into his palm, and the bitter, metallic taste of blood filled his mouth as he bit his lip.
"Though her loss brought me great pain," Sofia continued. "It strengthened my resolve. I vowed that her sacrifice would not be in vain, that I would continue protecting this kingdom so that no other mother would know such grief."
'Liar.'
His teeth ground together.
He felt Louise shift beside him, her gaze flickering toward his trembling hands.
And then, as if by design, Sofia's eyes found him.
Their gazes met.
Her lips curved ever so slightly.
A polite, graceful smile… with a glint of mockery behind it.
'You…'
Soren's entire body trembled.
He wanted to stand, he wanted to scream, to tear through the lies coating her words, but he couldn't, not here, not yet.
A gentle pressure touched his hands.
Louise.
Her hands slipped over his, grounding him, steadying his shaking fingers.
He exhaled slowly, forcing himself to relax.
'Not now…'
Sofia's voice continued, light and confident, as if she hadn't just twisted the knife in his chest.
"Tonight," she said at last. "I would like to introduce someone special."
The hall brightened with curiosity.
Heads turned, and murmurs followed.
Soren's stomach tightened; he knew what this was about.
She extended a graceful hand toward him.
"My son, Soren Arden."
The crowd's attention swung to him all at once.
He stood slowly, ignoring the stares that followed him as he made his way toward the stage.
Every step echoed louder than it should have, and every whisper felt sharper.
When he reached Sofia's side, she smiled down at him, warm and sweet, the way a mother should.
But the words that followed cut like glass.
"Everyone," Sofia began, her hand hovering just above Soren's shoulder, " this is my son, Soren Arden. The eldest, though not the heir."
A soft, polite laugh rippled throughout the crowd, quiet but cutting.
Soren's expression didn't waver.
He stood still, back straight, his crimson eyes fixed forward.
"Soren has always been a diligent child," Sofia continued, her tone light. "He may not possess the… aptitude of my other children, but he has a kind heart and a deep sense of loyalty to his family. Truly, a model son."
The smile didn't reach her eyes.
Each word was dipped in both honey and poison alike, phrases that sounded complimentary to the casual listener, but those listening closely could hear her honest thoughts: He's weak, he's unremarkable, he's loyal because he's scared of being abandoned.
It was Sofia's way of keeping him beneath her heel, even here, in front of everyone.
He had grown used to it, but it still stung.
As Sofia's speech drifted toward its end, her lips curved upward in that familiar way, a perfect imitation of warmth.
"And on this wonderful summer evening, I have a special announcement to make."
The nobles murmured among themselves again, curiosity fluttering across the hall.
Soren's face stiffened; he already knew what was coming.
"I am pleased to announce that my son, Soren Arden, will soon be engaged."
The murmurs exploded into a chorus of whispers, dozens of eyes turned toward him, some surprised, some confused, and others already calculating the political implications.
Soren kept his expression still, but inside, his stomach sank.
Although he had yet to, he wanted to one day fall in love, to have a real relationship, but Sofia wouldn't let that happen, wouldn't let Soren have a chance at true happiness.
He had no idea who she was going to name as his fiancée, but whoever it was, it wouldn't be his choice.
It would be another tool, another pawn in her political schemes.
Sofia's lips parted again, her voice bright.
"The young lady—"
But before she could finish…
"Countess Arden," a clear, playful voice rang from below the stage, "if I may interrupt."
Every head in the hall turned.
Esper Rupindolf stood near the front, fan half-raised, her long ginger hair gleaming under the light.
Her expression was polite, her posture elegant; the perfect image of a highborn lady, yet there was a glint of amusement dancing in her emerald eyes.
Soren's heart skipped.
'...What is she doing?'
The Countess's smile faltered ever so slightly.
"...Duchess Rupindolf's daughter, I presume?" Sofia's tone remained measured, though a faint edge slipped through.
Esper curtsied gracefully.
"Yes. Esper Rupindolf. I am certain you have heard much of my father."
"Of course," Sofia replied coolly. "But I must ask, Lady Rupindolf, why the interruption?"
Esper's smile deepened behind her fan.
"Why, to prevent a misunderstanding, of course."
Her words dripped with faux innocence.
Soren felt the tension rise, his lips trying to curve upward against his will.
'Don't tell me she's actually…'
Esper began to walk forward, her movements slow, yet each step drew eyes, and her voice carried clearly across the silent hall.
"You see," she continued, "Soren will be unable to accept that engagement you are proposing, Countess Arden."
The hall erupted with gaps and murmurs.
Sofia's expression remained calm, but her eyes sharpened.
"Oh? And what reason could there be for that, Lady Rupindolf?" she asked, her tone dangerously pleasant.
Esper reached the stage at last, her heels clicking softly as she ascended the steps, stopping right beside Soren.
Without hesitation, she took his left hand and raised it gently for all to see.
Soren blinked in surprise.
'Wait, she's actually…'
Gasps spread like wildfire as the red gem of the thin black ring caught the light.
Sofia's composure finally cracked.
Her smile froze, just for an instant.
Then Esper spoke again, her voice perfectly refined, her tone the epitome of noble grace.
"You see, Countess Arden, Soren has already promised his future to me."
A beat of silence.
Then the whispers returned, louder this time.
Esper's smile didn't waver in the slightest.
"We met at the academy. At first, I must admit, I only knew him by reputation, but as we spent more time together, our feelings… bloomed."
Soren almost choked on his saliva.
'Bloomed? What feelings… what are you saying?'
Esper turned her head, meeting his eyes with a faint, mischievous smile.
"So unfortunately," she continued sweetly, "Soren cannot accept another engagement. Isn't that right, darling?"
His brain blanked for a solid second, then instinct took over.
He inhaled sharply through his nose, straightened his shoulders, and had a thought.
'If I'm going to go down, I might as well drag her with me.'
"Yes," Soren said flatly, meeting his mother's gaze head-on. "Lady Rupindolf bought me this ring and proposed to me a couple of months ago, so unfortunately, I cannot accept another engagement currently… Mother."
A few nobles' gazes sharpened at his casual tone, at the way he called the Countess "Mother" in that cold, almost mocking way.
Esper, however, didn't even blink.
She merely tilted her head and smiled wider, as if enjoying the chaos she had created.
'Unbelievable…' Soren thought, his mind spinning. 'You're enjoying this, aren't you?'
Sofia's shoulders trembled ever so slightly, and her fan lowered, her grip tightening until her knuckles turned white.
The air around her shifted; still calm, and still polite, but carrying a subtle heaviness that made the nearest nobles fall silent.
Then, at last, she smiled again.
"I see," she said, her voice perfectly controlled. "How… unexpected."
Esper curtsied.
"My apologies for not informing you sooner, Countess Arden. It all happened rather quickly, and I wished to be certain of my feelings before announcing it publicly."
Her tone was pristine, flawless.
Sofia couldn't object without appearing petty.
Not in front of all these people.
Not when Esper was the daughter of a Duke and had the entire room hanging off her every word.
Soren almost pitied Sofia.
Almost.
Sofia drew in a quiet breath.
"...Very well. I will trust in the sincerity of your relationship, Lady Rupindolf. May the union between our houses bring strength to Fialova."
"Of course," Esper said smoothly, her fan lowered just enough to reveal her satisfied smirk.
The orchestra hesitantly began to play again, the awkward tension melting into a carefully maintained illusion of celebration.
Soren exhaled slowly.
The nobles around them began whispering again, about the surprise engagement, about the future alliance, about how Sofia Arden had been outmanoeuvred in her own hall.
Soren ignored them all.
Esper leaned closer to him, her voice barely above a whisper.
"See? That wasn't so bad, was it, Cutie?"
Soren turned his head, staring at her in disbelief.
"Did you have fun?"
She grinned, her eyes sparkling.
"Maybe a little."
"You're insane." He said with a sigh.
"And you're welcome," she replied cheerfully.
He wanted to flick her forehead, desperately, but with all eyes on them, he settled for glaring.
Her grin only widened.
————「❤︎」————