The carriage slowed as towering gates of white stone came into view.
The Liones Family Estate stood exactly as Tessandra remembered—vast, ancient, unyielding. Power was carved into every pillar, every sigil etched into the walls.
The carriage door opened.
Tessandra stepped out.
Her back was straight.
Her chin lifted.
Her presence steady.
She wasn't returning as a runaway.
She was returning as herself.
And as John's woman.
The guards at the gate immediately knelt.
"Welcome back, Princess Tessandra."
She nodded once and walked forward without hesitation.
The doors to the main living hall opened.
Her family was already there.
Tessandra took one step inside and spoke clearly.
"Father. I'm home."
Gillian Liones sat at the head of the hall, arms crossed, his presence alone enough to bend the air.
"Hmph," he said. "You only know how to come back now."
Before Tessandra could respond, a gentle voice cut in.
"Gillian, stop it."
Her mother, Isis Irankos-Liones, rose and walked toward her daughter, pulling her into a warm embrace.
"Welcome home," Isis said softly. "We missed you. How have you been?"
"I'm okay, Mom," Tessandra replied honestly. "Thank you. I know it's been a while."
She stepped back—and looked directly at her father.
"Father," she said calmly, "I won't be marrying Ifran."
The room chilled instantly.
Gillian's eyes narrowed.
"Why not?" he said. "That marriage was arranged. You were childhood friends. What changed?"
Tessandra didn't flinch.
"Every time I see him, I feel sick," she said. "I don't like him."
Then, without hesitation:
"And more importantly—someone else already has my heart."
Silence.
Then Gillian stood.
"Preposterous," he said coldly. "Who is it? I'll find him myself."
"If he were here, Father," Tessandra replied evenly,
"I can promise you this—you wouldn't leave unscathed."
Gillian's aura surged.
The floor cracked beneath his feet.
"Who," he demanded, "is it?"
Tessandra reached for the pendant at her chest.
Her voice didn't waver.
"His name is John Merciless."
A sharp inhale rippled through the hall.
"I'm going back to my man today," she continued. "Can't you respect my decision, Father?"
Gillian's gaze hardened.
"You will not be with someone unworthy."
He turned slightly.
"Guardians."
The air distorted.
Ten figures appeared—silent, absolute, terrifying.
"Find out who this John Merciless is," Gillian ordered.
Tessandra shook her head.
"You don't need to," she said softly.
Everyone turned to her.
"Because," she continued, "he's already here."
A presence unfolded.
Not descended.
Not summoned.
Simply… revealed.
John stood beside her.
As though he had been there from the very beginning.
Hands in his pockets.
Eyes calm.
Existence unchallenged.
He looked at Gillian—not with hostility, not with fear—
—but with certainty.
"Your daughter," John said evenly,
"has grown into a woman."
He took one step forward.
"She survived on her own for years."
His gaze sharpened just slightly.
"And you can't respect her decision?"