Marquess Kosler narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"
The eldest elder laced his fingers together and spoke in a tone that made the temperature in the room seem to drop.
"This is the same as awakening the curse that lies within him."
Ivanka froze. "A curse?" she echoed.
"The Morvex blood," the elder said quietly. "Since the first generation, they have been bound by one truth, a bond formed in a certain way can never be undone without destruction."
He paused, ensuring every word sank in.
"His father once tried to defy it. We all know how that ended."
The name haunted the room once more.
Ivanka swallowed. "So… if that happens—"
"Then his instincts will rise," another elder cut in. "Not as a duke. Not as a lord of the land. But as a Morvex."
Marquess Kosler let out a heavy breath. "And after that?"
"After that," the eldest elder answered, "Demian may hate you. He may reject you in his heart. But his body and his blood will not."
