Their Story (10): The Surrender

September 20, 1600

House Silva, Dining Room

Under the grand chandelier, Acier enjoyed her breakfast in the company of her family. A cheerful tune left her lips as she smiled, her energy as radiant as the morning light. She was eager to finish her meal and head out to meet Sebastian.

Across the table, Aurelia watched her sister with a small smile. Acier seemed happier than Aurelia could ever remember seeing her. Maybe I should tag along one of these days and introduce myself to that guy… she thought, her curiosity stirring.

Beside her, Amara tightened her grip on her fork and knife, her expression shadowed. She didn't say anything. For now, she decided to let it go. If Acier was happy, she could tolerate her distaste for Sebastian—for a while, at least.

But someone else had already made plans of their own.

Nicklaus Silva, seated at the head of the table, glanced at Acier from the corner of his eye. His jaw clenched, and he let out a controlled breath. No turning back now, Nicklaus. You've already set things in motion.

Gathering his resolve, he spoke gently. "Acier?"

She turned toward him, her face lighting up. "Yes, Grandpa?"

Nicklaus took a moment to steady himself. "I've been reflecting a lot lately, doing some soul searching if you will, especially since your ceremony."

Aurelia and Amara stiffened. A strange tension crept into the air, making the mother-daughter pair exchange wary glances.

Nathaniel, the head of the Silva family, continued eating his crumpets as though he hadn't heard a word. His eyes remained shut, his presence almost indifferent.

Acier, oblivious to the unease around her, raised a brow. "Oh? What do you mean, Grandpa?"

Placing a hand on his chest, Nicklaus began slowly. "For years, I've been holding onto something I shouldn't have. I've been projecting my memories of your grandmother—my late wife—onto you. You look so much like her, it's… unsettling at times."

Acier froze. Aurelia and Amara's apprehension grew sharper with each word.

Nicklaus continued, his voice soft but firm. "Because of that, I've held you too close. I've treated you as if you were her, my Acyer, rather than allowing you to be yourself, your Acier. I've kept you from living your own life. And for that, I'm truly sorry."

Acier's hands trembled as tears blurred her vision. She lowered her head, her voice trembling. "T-thank you… I accept your apology."

Emotions she couldn't fully process churned within her—grief, relief, and something she couldn't name—but above all, a sense of peace began to take hold.

Aurelia and Amara both exhaled, their unease momentarily abating. They thought, perhaps, this was the end of it. But had they looked at Nathaniel, now glaring daggers at Nicklaus, they might have thought differently.

Nicklaus leaned closer, gently lifting Acier's chin and dabbing her tears with his handkerchief. "I'm not finished yet, my dear."

Acier swallowed, her voice barely audible. "O-okay."

Nicklaus grimaced briefly, so subtly it was barely noticeable, before speaking again in a gentle tone. "The way you danced with that boy, the way your face lit up with that smile—it made one thing perfectly clear to me: you're not my wife."

His words were calm but firm as he continued. "You're a young woman, like so many others, who dreams of love and of having a family someday. And I have no right to deny you that. It's time for me to let you go."

Aurelia and Amara sat frozen, their eyes wide with disbelief. Across the table, Nathaniel's expression darkened further, his presence should've been impossible to ignore—though no one seemed to notice, least of all Acier.

Her attention was locked entirely on her grandfather, her pulse quickening. A deep blush crept up her neck and spread across her face.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Oh my… oh my… does this mean Sebastian and I can…? No, no, this is way too soon! He hasn't even confessed yet, and I don't know how to respond when he does!

Acier's thoughts spiraled, her face now fully flushed. She averted her gaze, her voice flustered. "Grandpa…" she trailed off, unable to form a coherent response.

Nicklaus, however, pressed on. "And that is precisely why, my dear, I will find the perfect man for my perfect gem."

Her body went rigid. Slowly, like a clockwork doll, she turned her head back to him, her movements stiff and mechanical. Nicklaus withdrew his hand from her chin, returning to his breakfast as if the conversation were already over. Without looking up, he added one last remark.

"You needn't concern yourself with that boy. He won't be bothering you again."

The room seemed to stop. Amara and Aurelia's eyes widened in horror, but Acier's reaction was different. She shot to her feet, her expression drained of warmth, her eyes cold and unyielding.

"Grandfather," she said, her voice steady but edged with steel. "What did you do?"

Nicklaus didn't answer right away. He continued to chew his cod leisurely, ignoring the stares directed at him. After swallowing and taking a sip of water, he finally spoke, still focused on his plate as he sliced another piece of fish.

"What I had to."

Acier's gaze hardened, her expression mirroring the icy fury on her father's face. Without another word, she turned and strode toward the twin doors of the dining room.

She barely made it halfway before Nicklaus's next words froze her in place.

"I merely taught him a lesson. He's alive and well—for now. But if you persist in doing what you shouldn't, that might change."

His tone remained calm, almost conversational. "You come from different worlds. For his sake, and yours, forget about that boy."

Acier stood still, her back to the table. Her shoulders trembled ever so slightly as the silence stretched. Then, without a glance behind her, she pushed the doors open and disappeared into the hallway.

Nicklaus stayed seated, his expression unreadable as he turned his attention to Nathaniel. The middle aged man's dark glare met his old aged father's calm demeanor head-on.

"I followed your wishes," Nicklaus said plainly. "I didn't harm the boy—much."

Nathaniel's face somehow grew even darker. Abruptly, he stood and left the room without a word, his heavy steps echoing down the corridor.

Amara and Aurelia exchanged a glance before hurrying after him, leaving Nicklaus alone in the grand dining room. He resumed his meal, his voice low as he murmured to himself.

"She'll be back soon. All of you will."

For the first time since August 31st, Nicklaus Silva felt at peace.

—

Acier shot through the skies on her broom like a bolt of lightning, ignoring the newly enforced aerial laws that had been put in place after the civil war. The strife in the kingdom was the last thing on her mind.

The voices of barrier mages buzzed in her head, barking orders and polite requests for her to descend and continue on foot. She paid them no attention, her focus unshaken as she left the capital behind and arrived at Kikka.

She didn't waste a second. The moment she reached the marketplace, her heart sank at the sight before her.

Sebastian's stall was destroyed—splintered into jagged shards and debris. There wasn't even enough left to salvage; he'd have to start from scratch.

Acier clenched her fists, her teeth grinding together as fury bubbled within her.

Grandfather…! she hissed inwardly, forcing herself to regain some semblance of composure.

A small crowd had gathered around the wreckage. As she descended, her presence drew their attention. Acier's sharp gaze scanned the area, searching for Sebastian. When she didn't see him, her stomach twisted. Her lips pressed into a thin line until her eyes landed on a familiar face in the crowd.

An elderly, hunched woman leaned on her cane—a regular customer of Sebastian's. Acier approached her quickly, crouching to meet her eye level. Her voice, though hurried, remained polite.

"Ms. Harolds, have you seen Sebastian? Do you know where he is?"

The old woman shook her head, her voice hoarse. "No, child. And it's not just me. Old Stein came here first thing this morning for his appointment, and he didn't see the boy either—only this."

She gestured grimly with her cane toward the wreckage of the stall.

Acier's heartbeat thundered in her chest, her breaths shallow as cold sweat traced down her temple. She didn't utter another word. Turning sharply, she mounted her broom and shot back into the sky, this time heading straight for the Royal Capital.

The barrier mages' voices returned, clamoring louder than before. This time, she didn't just ignore them.

"Would you shut your mouths, you swine!" she snapped mentally, her voice slicing through their connection like a blade.

The silence that followed was immediate.

Acier sneered faintly, her irritation flickering briefly into triumph, but she didn't dwell on it. Her broom streaked past Castle Silva, deeper into Silva territory. She poured every ounce of mana she had into the broom, pushing it beyond its limits. The air around her cracked audibly, leaving an echoing boom in her wake as she shot toward Sebastian's land.

The wind battered her face, whipping against her cheeks as the strain on her broom became evident. Cracks splintered along its surface, but she didn't falter. Her speed increased, the landscape below blurring into a smear of green and brown.

Then the inevitable happened.

The broom gave out with a deafening snap, exploding beneath her. Acier didn't scream. As she plummeted from thirty meters above the ground, her expression remained cold and focused.

She gathered the last remnants of her mana, channeling it into the soles of her feet. The moment she hit the ground, she landed upright, her posture as poised as a dancer's.

It wasn't entirely seamless—her landing left a small crater in the grassy earth, the impact sending a jolt of pain up her legs and into her body. But Acier didn't flinch. She didn't have the luxury of caring.

Her eyes locked forward, and her breath hitched.

What she saw made her stomach churn. Disgust and loathing flooded her expression, her gaze hardening as her fists curled at her sides.

Sebastian was on his knees, sifting through the wreckage of what had been his home. His shack, already humble and fragile, was now a pile of shattered wood and debris.

Acier stood frozen, watching as he lifted shaky planks and broken floorboards, desperately trying to salvage even the smallest piece of what had once been his meager sanctuary.

As she stepped forward, Sebastian turned slightly, sensing her presence. Their eyes met, and Acier felt the air leave her lungs.

A streak of dried blood ran from the top of his head, smearing down the left side of his face. But that wasn't what broke her. It was his eyes—red and puffy, rimmed with wetness. Her steadfast, indifferent friend, the one who always took life's hardships with a smirk or disregard, had been crying.

Her gaze flicked to his clothes, the ones she'd bought for him. Torn. Tattered. She moved closer, trembling, but froze again as Sebastian wiped at his eyes and forced a smile onto his face.

It was the ugliest, most fragile smile she'd ever seen.

He scratched his disheveled, dust-coated silver hair and let out a weak laugh.

"T-this is what I get for not buying a newspaper and preparing for the storm last night, huh?"

Storm? Acier's stomach twisted. There was no storm. The grass was dry, the skies were clear—it had been a perfectly calm summer evening.

If that was a joke, Acier didn't find it very funny.

"Sebastian…" she began softly, her voice cracking. "Your clinic… it's torn to bits, too."

Sebastian paused, his mouth opening and closing as if searching for the right words. When none came, he forced that same brittle smile again.

"Heck of a storm, then—"

"WOULD YOU TAKE THIS SERIOUSLY?!" Acier's voice rang out, sharp and trembling. Tears welled up in her eyes as she clutched her chest.

"You're not stupid! You know there wasn't a storm last night. You know who's behind this, so why are you pretending everything's fine?!"

The tears spilled over, and she wiped them furiously. I don't have the right to cry. He's the one hurting.

When her vision cleared, she noticed Sebastian staring at her strangely, his expression unreadable.

"W-what is that look?!" she demanded, her voice hoarse. "What does that mean?!"

Sebastian groaned softly, cracking his knees as he rose to his feet. Dusting off his torn pants, he crossed his arms and raised a brow at her.

"Didn't we already talk about this?"

Acier blinked, taken aback, as Sebastian continued.

"I danced with you and spent time with you even knowing exactly what kind of man your grandfather is. You know why?"

His voice softened. "Because you mean that much to me. As long as I get to be with you, I don't care what happens to me—"

"I CARE!" Acier cut him off, her voice breaking as her face flushed red with anguish. "I FUCKING CARE!"

Her fists clenched at her sides as the words tumbled out in a desperate rush.

"You're going to die, Sebastian! Don't you get that?! If this keeps going, you're going to die!"

Sebastian paused, then shrugged with a forced calmness that made her want to scream.

"We've talked about this before. Look, this—" he gestured toward the wreckage "—this is proof. Your grandfather might rough me up, might try to scare me, but he doesn't dare to kill me—"

"THAT'S NOT TRUE!" Acier's roar cut through the air, her whole body trembling. She stepped forward, jabbing a finger into his chest.

"This wasn't just him 'roughing you up.' This was a warning, Sebastian. A warning to me."

Her voice cracked as her words poured out, tears streaming down her face.

"This was him showing me his power. If I defy him again, he'll kill you. Do you hear me? He'll kill you!"

Sebastian's shoulders stiffened, his expression faltering for the first time.

"Yes, the civil war has been a blessing," she spat bitterly, "because it's taken the nobility's eyes off you. But that's the only reason you're alive right now. It's also a double lining. My grandfather doesn't need to hold back anymore. He can kill you anytime, and no one will care. No one will even notice. Because no one's watching!"

Her voice dropped to a whisper, raw with emotion. "Because no one remembers you, Sebastian. You're not even yesterday's news."

She jabbed her finger into his chest again, harder this time, pushing him back slightly.

Sebastian winced, stunned into silence as he stared at her tear-streaked face, her disheveled appearance, and the storm of emotions in her eyes.

Minutes passed as Sebastian struggled to find the words. A response, a retort—anything. But nothing came. He stood there, utterly speechless.

So, what did he do?

He waved it all off, pretending none of it mattered.

"Enough about that," he said nonchalantly, brushing the air with his hand. "We can talk about all the doom and gloom later."

Acier gawked at him, stunned into silence.

Sebastian ignored her reaction and bent down, pulling up a floorboard to reveal a large bag stashed beneath. He unzipped it, glancing up at her with a faint, forced grin.

"Before I built my shack—after the bank took my house—I lived in this."

He began pulling items out of the bag: a large white tarp, several iron beams, and a handful of rusted screws and bolts.

"I managed to smuggle some of my parents' jewelry before the bank took everything. Sold it all and bought this tent," he said, holding the tarp up for her to see. "So, see? You don't have to worry. I still have a home—"

His voice trailed off as his eyes fell on the tarp.

A gaping hole stared back at him from what was supposed to be the roof. The edges were frayed, and smaller holes peppered the sides. It was clear the tarp hadn't been stored properly; the beams and screws had punctured it over time.

Sebastian grimaced, lowering the tarp before walking up to Acier. He scratched his cheek awkwardly.

"It's a bit shameless to ask, but… could you run down to a store and get me some duct tape—"

He stopped mid-sentence.

Fresh tears were streaming down Acier's face.

Sebastian froze. He hated seeing her cry. Without thinking, he reached out, his hand instinctively moving toward her face to wipe the tears away.

Acier stiffened, her grandfather's voice thundering in her mind.

"I merely taught him a lesson. He's alive and well—for now. But if you persist in doing what you shouldn't, that might change."

Her breathing hitched. He can't touch me. He shouldn't touch me. If he does, he dies.

Before his hand could reach her, Acier slapped it away.

Sebastian winced, drawing his hand back in pain as she abruptly backed away.

Silence fell between them like a chasm.

Sebastian stared at her, hurt and confusion etched into his features.

Acier mirrored his shock, regret flashing across her face.

But that regret was fleeting.

She bit her lip, clenched her fists, and forced herself to speak. Her voice trembled, but her resolve did not waver.

"W-we're done, Sebastian Theodorus. We're done."

Sebastian stiffened, his body going rigid. She watched as the color drained from his eyes, leaving behind an empty void. That same void she remembered from their first meeting.

That void was back.

Acier hated herself at that moment. But she didn't stop. She couldn't.

"D-don't talk to me. Don't come by my house. Don't act like you know me. Because… because we have nothing to do with each other anymore."

Her voice cracked as she reached into her side pouch, pulled out a golden coin, and threw it at him.

The coin struck him on the temple with a loud thud, leaving a red mark.

Sebastian didn't flinch. He didn't move. He just stared at her, his eyes lifeless, as though she no longer existed.

It was exactly like their first meeting. She didn't even register under his radar. 

Acier felt the tears spill over again. She turned on her heel and sprinted away. She didn't even dare say goodbye.

She ran for what felt like kilometers, her face a mess of tears and broken sobs. She ignored the branch members who tried to stop her and chat her up, blitzing past them without a word.

She'd had enough. Enough of all of it.

"Damnit. Damnit. Damnit. Damnit!"

Her thoughts screamed with every step, her pace quickening as though she could outrun the weight crushing her chest.

Finally, she skidded to a stop, her head snapping upward toward the sky.

"How can this be considered love?!" she screamed, her voice raw with anguish.

The sky offered no answers.

Her grandfather's words and actions, Sebastian's broken expression, her own guilt—they all churned within her, a chaotic whirlwind of warmth and aversion.

Love and hate are two sides of the same coin. Either can give rise to the other. And sometimes, the lines between them blur beyond recognition.

—

Acier trudged through the grand halls of the Silva mansion, her steps heavy, her gaze unfocused. She barely noticed the servants and retainers who parted to let her pass, their curious or concerned eyes tracking her as she ascended the curved staircase to her room.

"Sister!"

Acier halted at the sound of Aurelia's voice, the younger girl darting toward her with concern etched on her face. Aurelia stopped short as her gaze landed on Acier's disheveled appearance.

The trails of dried tears streaked down her cheeks. Her puffy, red-rimmed eyes stared back vacantly. Sweat clung to her pale complexion, and her usually composed demeanor was nowhere to be found.

Aurelia bit her lip, hesitating before reaching out with a trembling hand. "Sister, are you alright—"

Acier gently batted her wrist away—not harshly, but softly, almost absentmindedly. Even so, the rejection stung Aurelia all the same.

Acier forced a smile, one that was brittle and hollow. It reminded her painfully of the one Sebastian had flashed at her earlier. "I just need some alone time, alright?" she murmured.

Time to cry into my pillow, curl into a ball, and maybe puke my guts out.

Aurelia hesitated, then gave a small, weak nod. "Alright," she whispered.

Acier mirrored the nod, brushing past her sister without a second glance. She barely registered their mother standing silently in the shadows just beyond Aurelia, her face tight with unspoken worry. Acier headed down the hall toward her private wing.

Her maid, Hilda, stood stiffly by her bedroom door, hands clasped nervously in front of her.

"My Lady," Hilda said, her voice quivering, "please… don't go inside—"

Bang!

The door slammed shut behind Acier before Hilda could finish.

Acier immediately wished she hadn't dismissed the warning.

Standing across the room, near her bed, was a figure. He was casually toying with her flower vase—the one that held her most precious keepsakes—as though it were some cheap trinket.

The man turned slowly, his face splitting into a grin. His pale, lecherous features twisted with pride. Golden-brown hair framed his head in loose curls, catching the sunlight streaming through the window behind him.

Acier stiffened, her pupils narrowing. Her voice came out in a hoarse whisper.

"...Lux. What are you doing here… in my room?"

Lux's grin widened, taking on a perverse edge. He tossed the vase lightly from one hand to the other, showing no care for its fragility as he began to circle her bed.

"Why can't I be in my woman's room?" he said smoothly.

Acier's body tensed, her expression darkening. Did he just…?

"What did you just call me?" she demanded, her voice low and disbelieving.

Lux tilted his head, his golden eyes gleaming with mock curiosity. "Oh? He hasn't told you yet?" He paused, then chuckled, shaking his head as he tossed the vase onto her bed without a second thought.

Acier clenched her fists, suppressing the urge to slap him across the face. But his words held her attention—and her growing unease.

"No matter," Lux continued, his voice dripping with smugness. "I'd much rather be the one to break the news myself."

Acier's brow furrowed as she instinctively took a step back. "W-what are you talking about?"

Lux's grin stretched wider. "The 'perfect' man your dear grandfather has chosen for you is me."

Her blood ran cold.

"You're lying," she spat, her voice shaking with anger and disbelief. "Don't be ridiculous—"

"Would I be here, in your room—alone—if I were lying?" Lux cut her off, flashing a charming smile that only made her stomach churn.

Acier's heart pounded in her chest as she tried to process his words. This can't be real. This can't be happening.

Her fight-or-flight instinct kicked in, and she turned sharply, bolting for the door.

But Lux was faster.

Before she could reach the handle, he was on her. One hand clamped over her mouth, the other pinning her arms to her sides as he shoved her back against the wall.

"Nuh-uh-uh," he purred mockingly, his lips brushing her ear.

Acier struggled against his grip, but it was futile. He was older, heavier, and his mana rivaled her own. Worse yet, unlike her, he had a grimoire.

Her breaths came in ragged gasps as Lux tightened his hold. Her body trembled with frustration and fear, her mind racing.

She had faced countless challenges, but this… this was different.

This was a nightmare she hadn't prepared for.

Acier's pupils dilated, her eyes brimming with tears as she instinctively tried to twist free and flee. But Lux's next words froze her in place, her blood turning ice-cold.

"I have a few things to say to you, my dear Acier," he drawled. "And if you try to run, you might wake up one morning to find a package waiting for you. A package filled with the body parts of someone very dear to you."

His voice dipped lower, crueler.

"A certain someone your age. With silver hair… and blue eyes. Do you understand?"

The tears she had been holding back spilled over, and her trembling became uncontrollable. She tried to speak, but her voice came out muffled beneath his hand. Instead, she gave a frantic, desperate nod.

"Mmmhmm," she whimpered weakly.

Lux finally released her, stepping back as if satisfied. Acier immediately wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, unable to hide her disgust. But Lux didn't seem to care; he watched her reaction with a grin that widened at her compliance.

"Good," he said with a chilling cheerfulness. "Now, sit." He gestured lazily to her bed. "This will be a… lengthy conversation."

Acier's eyes darted toward the door, her body tensing as she calculated her chances of escape. Lux noticed and tilted his head, his gaze darkening in a way that made her breath hitch.

Her legs felt like lead as she shuffled toward the bed, forcing herself to walk past him. She perched stiffly at the edge, her heart pounding wildly in her chest.

Lux moved closer, and she flinched instinctively. To her surprise—and dismay—he stopped a meter away, standing over her with a smug smile.

"No need to be so frightened, my dear," he said, his voice dripping with mock reassurance. "Your grandfather made it very clear I can't do anything… extreme to you until I've fulfilled my end of the deal."

He licked his lips, his gaze lingering on her, before letting out a theatrical sigh of resignation.

"So," he continued, his tone casual but cruel, "you get to keep your precious virginity for… oh, I'd say another two or three years."

Acier's stomach churned, and her expression twisted with undisguised disgust. "What do you want from me?!" she demanded hoarsely. "My grandfather would never give me away—least of all to you! Explain yourself—"

Twack.

Her head snapped to the side, her cheek burning from the force of his slap.

The room went silent, save for Acier's shallow, disbelieving breaths. No one—not even in combat—had ever dared to strike her like this.

She slowly raised a hand to her cheek, her fingers brushing the throbbing skin, before looking up at him. Lux towered over her, his face twisted in unmasked derision and scorn.

"That," he said coldly, "was your last warning."

He leaned in slightly, his voice lowering to a venomous whisper.

"Raise your voice in my presence again, or look at me like that once more, and I'll have your precious friend delivered to you in a body bag."

The words struck her like a blow, and the color drained from her face. Her body sagged as the fight drained out of her, her head dipping in a defeated nod.

Lux's grin returned, bright and sinister.

"Good girl."

Lux took a leisurely step back, his smile softening as he tapped his cheek rhythmically, a mockery of a thoughtful gesture. Slowly, he began to pace around the room, the soft creak of his shoes against the floorboards grating in the heavy silence.

"Where to begin? Oh, where to begin?" he mused aloud, his tone light, almost playful.

He stopped abruptly, his gaze drifting to the flowers sitting on the table beside Acier. Her body moved instinctively, clutching the vase to her chest like a lifeline.

Her expression made her intent clear: she would fight him to the death before she let him touch them.

Lux's lips quirked into a faint smile. "You know," he said, almost casually, "I really ought to thank you and your dear friend. If not for the little stunt you pulled at your ceremony, giving me the perfect opportunity to capitalize on that Old Thing's state of mind, I doubt I'd be standing here."

Acier stiffened, her knuckles white as they gripped the vase.

"You two handed me everything," he continued, his voice low and venomous. "By giving me the chance to show my ire, my displeasure, while he was nothing but an anxious wreck. And because of that, he finally handed you over. To me. Completely."

Acier trembled, but her lips remained sealed. She had no idea what he was talking about, and Lux could see it in her eyes.

He liked it that way. Ignorance made his monologue all the more satisfying.

With a sly glance, Lux tilted his head. "Tell me, Acier, did you know it's utterly shameless of you to try to be friends with dear little Sebastian?"

Her body stiffened further. She had always known it was a risk. Being near Sebastian, offering him even the smallest kindness, painted a target on his back. And yet… a tiny part of her had dared to hope this day might never come. That hope had been crushed earlier today, and it was why she'd severed their bond so decisively.

But that wasn't why she froze now.

Something in Lux's tone told her he wasn't merely stating the obvious.

He didn't wait for an answer. "After all," he continued smoothly, his voice darkening, "his childhood of abuse. His parents' suicide. Every ounce of his suffering—"

Lux's eyes narrowed into slits.

"All of it. All his pain. It's because of you."

Acier's breath caught in her throat. Her mouth parted, but only a strangled whisper emerged.

"W-what nonsense are you—"

Her words died mid-sentence as Lux's glare hardened into something cold and withering.

"I thought I told you… to watch your mouth," he hissed.

Acier's gaze snapped to the floor, and she bowed her head deeply. "M-my apologies," she stammered, her voice trembling.

The sinister tension in the room dissolved instantly as Lux's grin returned, wide and gleaming. "No problem, my dear. No problem at all. Just… don't let it happen again, alright?"

She nodded, her body slick with cold sweat.

"Good," he purred, his grin morphing back into something sly and mocking.

"And it's not just Sebastian, you know." He resumed his pacing, his voice laced with dark amusement. "The branch families, all of them—their suffering, their oppression, the torment they've endured at the hands of the main family for the past decade? That's on you, too."

Acier's head shot up, her face pale and stricken with disbelief.

Lux chuckled. "Oh, you want to know why, don't you? You want to know how?"

Wordlessly, she nodded, her throat too dry to speak.

Lux's smile widened, pleased by her silence. "All of it," he said, drawing out the words like a predator savoring its prey. "All of that mysterious pressure the main family has put on the branches. It's been part of a grand plot—a decade-long scheme, perhaps even longer."

Acier's heartbeat thundered in her chest, her breath hitching as his words sank in.

"A plot," Lux said, his voice soft yet razor-sharp, "crafted by none other than your grandfather. And, in some ways, your father too."

Her hands gripped the vase tighter as a chill ran down her spine.

"To make you queen," he finished with a triumphant gleam in his eye. "To put you on the throne."

Acier stared at him, her mind spinning in morbid incomprehension. "W-what do you mean… sir?" she whispered, her voice cracking in its flow due to his revelation.

Lux's smile only grew.

Lux licked his lips, resuming his slow, deliberate pacing around the room. His voice was smooth, almost conversational, as if sharing an intimate secret.

"Let me tell you a story, my dear—a story about your grandmother, Acyer Silva."

Acier's breath hitched at the mention of the name.

"She was the greatest regret of that Old Thing," Lux continued, his words cutting through the silence. "He buried himself in lordship and knightly duties while his wife withered away from illness. It was his way of coping, you see. A way to escape the reality that no amount of power or wealth could save her. But deep down, he knew the truth—he was a coward. He couldn't even face her as she slipped away."

Acier's mouth went dry, her gaze fixed on Lux as he spoke.

"And it wasn't just him," Lux added, his tone almost pitying. "Your dear father, too, treated himself as a pathetic failure. He loathed himself for being unable to save his beloved mother. Self-hatred, guilt—it consumed them both."

Lux paused, savoring the moment. "Then, amidst the grief, something miraculous happened. Your father met your mother. They had you. A child who, by some twist of fate, was the spitting image of Acyer Silva."

Acier's heart pounded against her ribcage, each thump louder than the last.

"To them," Lux said, his voice softening, "you were a second chance. A chance to atone. They had failed their wife and mother, but they would not fail you. They vowed to give you everything—a life free of want, a world at your feet. And so, they named you Acier."

Her chest tightened as his words sank in, a foreboding disbelief swirling in her mind.

"They were willing to risk it all for you," Lux went on, his tone growing darker. "And as you grew, as you became more and more like her, from your appearance to your personality, their resolve only strengthened. They decided to give you the world—starting with the Clover Kingdom itself. They would make you its future queen. The mother of this nation."

Lux's eyes gleamed as he took in her trembling form. "And do you know what that means? What does that entail?"

Acier shook her head, fear gripping her throat. Against her better judgment, she whispered, "N-no… please enlighten me, sir."

"Of course, my dear!" Lux spread his arms theatrically, his grin widening. "You see, you're a Silva, not a Kira. You don't possess light magic. And, let's not forget, you're a woman. Securing the throne on your own? Practically impossible. So your father and grandfather looked elsewhere—to me."

Acier's heart sank as his words struck her like a blow.

"You're probably wondering," Lux said, his tone sly, "why me? Why not my elder brother, Augustus, the one everyone assumed would take the throne?"

She was wondering. She didn't dare show it.

Lux chuckled, unfazed. "My brother? A lecher. He already has too many lovers. Even if you became his main wife and queen, your father and grandfather would never tolerate a man who couldn't give you his undivided loyalty. So Augustus was out."

He gestured dismissively. "And my half-brothers? Illegitimate sons of concubines. They have no real claim to the throne. Sure they can prevent Augustus from becoming King, but that doesn't mean they can become the Monarch themselves. Naturally, that left… me."

He stopped pacing, turning to face her fully, his eyes dark and calculating.

"The unassuming second son," he continued, his tone dripping with derision. "Overshadowed by Augustus. Overlooked by everyone. I was perfect for your grandfather and father's plans. A pawn. A puppet. Someone who needed House Silva to survive. If I were to become king, I'd have no choice but to obey them completely. To secure their support. To take the throne when the time comes."

Lux smirked, his words like poison. "Unlike Augustus, I need your family. You're my lifeline. And so, they chose me."

He tilted his head, his grin widening. "Understand?"

Acier shook her head, her thoughts swirling in chaos. There were too many gaps, too much left unsaid. She swallowed her fear and asked cautiously, "Sir… what does this have to do with me being the cause of the branch families' suffering?"

Lux paused, blinking in mock surprise. Then, chuckling sheepishly, he rubbed the back of his head.

"Oh, right," he said with a grin. "I nearly forgot."

Lux spread his arms, his expression almost casual. "Even with House Silva's support, my chances of claiming the throne would only increase slightly. Still far from my dear brother's." He tilted his head, smiling coldly. "At least, that would've been the case if it were the House Silva of ten years ago."

Acier's heart began to race, her teeth sinking into her lip as Lux continued, his tone laced with sly indifference.

"Your father and grandfather ventured to amplify your house's power—militarily, politically, economically. Their goal? To make House Silva's influence so commanding, it would ensure my victory."

He took a step closer, his grin widening. "And naturally, the easiest way to achieve that was to wring every ounce of value from those entitled, predatory wolves you call branch families. Increased tribute, relentless demands—they were all pushed to expand Silva's power, no matter the cost."

Acier felt something inside her crack, the unease she was feeling heightened as she hung on his every word.

Lux's grin twisted into something darker, almost perverse. "Of course, many of them couldn't meet those lofty expectations. The pressure crushed them, dragging them to their lowest. And when people are desperate, they show their worst selves."

His voice softened, mockingly gentle. "Take your dear friend Sebastian's parents, for example. Insecure, already struggling, they were pushed past their breaking point. Your father and grandfather turned them into the monsters who abused their child—who turned their insecurities into a noose that eventually claimed their lives. And so, Sebastian became a streetrat orphan, broken and alone."

Lux crouched slightly, his gaze locking onto hers as he whispered, "And that's why I said it's all your fault."

Acier's breath hitched, her heart shattering into pieces as her pink pupils dulled, losing their vibrant color. A void—empty, lifeless, just like Sebastian's had been. Just like he is now. Thanks to me.

Tears streamed silently down her cheeks. It's all my fault. Everything Sebastian went through and still goes through… it's all my fault.

She raised her gaze to Lux, her voice hoarse and trembling. "B-but I didn't ask for any of this! W-why would they do all this… for me?"

Lux's lips curved upward, his eyes narrowing in cruel amusement. "Ah, but that's love, isn't it? Uncalled for. Toxic. Possessive. Relentlessly giving and insistent." His voice dropped, dark yet almost tender. "This is how they show their love for you. And you? You're only in a position to accept it, not to turn it away."

For a fleeting moment, a spark of defiance lit Acier's eyes. She tilted her head, a mocking smile curling her lips.

"Aren't you afraid I'll talk?" she asked, her tone sharp. "That I'll make all of this public? Your dreams, me, the throne—they'd all slip away."

Lux paused, mirroring her smile as he crouched further, now looking up at her. "You wouldn't dare. And you know why?"

Acier leaned forward slightly, her smile widening in challenge. "Why?"

Lux's grin deepened. "My dearest younger brother, Alex… Just how do you think he died?"

Acier's expression froze, horror dawning in her eyes. "Y-you don't mean—"

"Oh, but I do," Lux said with a chilling grin. "A prince, even one of the lowest rank, doesn't simply die without cause. Such a thing only happens when powerful forces are at play. Forces… or resources… your House possesses."

"You're lying!" Acier shook her head, desperation creeping into her voice. "T-there's no way my house would stoop to something so low, so pointless—"

"Pointless?" Lux raised a brow, unbothered by her outburst. If anything, her reaction seemed to amuse him. "Ah, but it wasn't pointless, was it, my dear Acier?"

He rose slowly to his full height, arms folded neatly behind his back as he looked down at her. Acier, still seated at the edge of her bed, felt an indescribable illusionary pressure press down on her and her resolve.

"My little brother," Lux began, his voice calm, deliberate, "though a prince of the lowest rank—beneath even me—actually had the second-best chance of usurping the throne after Augustus. And for two reasons."

Acier's breath hitched, her hands clenching the bedspread.

Lux ticked them off on his fingers. "First, he was the only one of my half-brothers to possess light magic, which fulfills the church's propaganda and indoctrination. Second, his lack of influence made him the ideal puppet ruler—easily controlled by the noble houses."

Acier's mouth opened to respond, but Lux cut her off with a raised hand.

"I know what you're thinking," he said smoothly. "If Alex was such a perfect candidate, why didn't your family choose him instead of me?"

She nodded silently, her throat tight.

"Several reasons," Lux explained, pacing again. "One was pride. How could your grandfather or father ever allow their precious gem to marry a lowborn bastard like Alex? A son of a concubine?"

Acier said nothing, but deep down, she knew Lux was right. Her grandfather's pride would never allow such a union.

As for her father… His attitude towards Sebastian was too baffling for her to be sure if he shared her grandfather's sentiments. 

"And secondly," Lux continued, "House Silva doesn't want to share power. A puppet ruler like Alex would have too many strings—too many puppeteers pulling at him. Your house would just be one of many. But with me? I have no support. No allies. House Silva would be my sole lifeline. They wouldn't share control. They would own it."

He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "So, they eliminated the threat Alex posed—not just to clear the way for me, but also to weaken Augustus' power. It was a twofold victory."

Acier's mind reeled as she tried to process his words. She managed to rasp out, "For what? What could they possibly be biding their time for?"

"To turn 21, of course!" Lux spread his arms dramatically, a sinister grin tugging at his lips. "I'm not a royal candidate thanks to my mother and brother. But did you know there's a hidden rule? Any prince or princess who reaches the inheritance age is free to pursue the throne and declare themselves a royal candidate."

He paced leisurely, his confidence radiating. "I turn 21 in just over three years. Until then, all I need to do is bide my time. My brother and mother trust me implicitly, so I'll continue undermining him—sabotaging his efforts to secure the throne. When I come of age and marry you, becoming Lord Silva, I'll be unstoppable."

Lux's grin widened, his eyes gleaming with ambition. "Once I take the title of Lord Silva, my brother will be helpless. His 'loyal' vassals and retainers, frustrated by three fruitless years of failed ambition, will abandon him. They'll pledge themselves to me instead. And with the combined power of two royal houses, the throne will be mine."

He stepped closer, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "A masterful plan, wouldn't you agree?"

But Acier said nothing. Her lifeless eyes stared past him, the faint traces of color draining further as her mind turned elsewhere.

Lux's amusement faded slightly at her lack of response. He clicked his tongue and added, "And that's exactly why I have no fear of you spilling any secrets. Unless, of course, you're willing to drag your entire house down with you, condemning House Silva to treason and erasing its 307 years of illustrious history."

Acier sat still for a moment before speaking, her voice quiet and trembling. "Alexander… he was your brother. How could you…?"

Lux froze, momentarily caught off guard. Of all the things she could have said, that wasn't what he expected. He regarded her as if she were a fool.

"Half-brother," he corrected coldly, his tone sharp. "He was a stranger in all but blood. A stranger who would have killed me if given the chance. And even if he wouldn't have, I would gladly kill Augustus. My own brother. Why would I hesitate to eliminate one of my late father's bastards?"

Acier's hands clenched into fists, her voice rising in anger. "He was still your family. How could you do something so cruel—"

She gasped as Lux grabbed her jaw, his grip firm and unyielding. Her words were cut off as he forced her mouth shut.

"Let's get one thing straight, Acier Silva," Lux hissed, his dark eyes narrowing. "Not everyone gets to live a life of unconditional love and support like you."

His voice dropped to a near-whisper, cold and venomous. "In the royal palace, in the royal family, if you want to survive, everyone is your enemy. If anyone is to blame for this madness, it's my father."

Acier's eyes widened as Lux's grip tightened, her jaw aching under his strength.

Lux leaned in closer, a twisted grin on his face. "Do you know why?"

He didn't wait for her to respond. "It's all my father's fault for falling prey to lust and indecision. He should've kept his dick in his pants after siring Augustus. Instead, he married concubines and fathered more children, giving Augustus competitors and forcing him into this fratricidal struggle."

Lux's voice grew colder, his words cutting like a blade. "And even if that wasn't enough, had my halfwit father simply granted Augustus the title of crown prince, there would be no succession war—no bloodshed. Augustus would've taken the throne the day he turned 21. But no. Octavian Kira Clover XII had to spread his seed and doom his sons to destroy one another."

With a flick of his wrist, Lux released her jaw and straightened, retrieving a napkin from his pocket. He wiped his hand clean with an air of distaste before tossing the napkin casually onto her lap.

Looking down at her, his smirk returned, sharp and condescending.

"From now on, you'll stay in this estate and learn to act like a proper woman," Lux declared coldly, his gaze sharp and unyielding. "None of this heiress or Magic Knight nonsense. Are we clear?"

Acier looked up at him, her lips pressed into a thin line, saying nothing. Lux cocked his head, his expression darkening.

"Failure to comply," he continued, his voice dripping with menace, "and I'll send a letter to your friend, explaining in excruciating detail how you are the root cause of all his suffering. I'll make sure his love for you curdles into unbridled hate. Do I make myself clear?"

Acier froze, her breath catching in her throat, before vehemently nodding. "Yes, sir."

But Lux wasn't finished. "One more thing: watch your health. If I hear so much as a whisper about you being suicidal, or if you pull a stunt like trying to run away, fine, I won't stop you. But know this—at that point, I'll have no reason to spare your friend."

His words twisted like a knife in her chest, but Lux pressed on, his tone dark and cutting. "If you want him to keep living, if you don't want me to grease a few palms to make sure he never earns his license, or if you don't want his pathetic excuse for a clinic or home to be torn down every time it's rebuilt, you will stay put and behave. Do you understand?"

Acier nodded again, her movements robotic and devoid of life. "Yes, sir."

Lux's lips curled into a satisfied smirk. "Good." He reached over and plucked the vase of blue hyacinths from her lap. "I'll get rid of these for you."

Acier made no move to stop him.

"You don't need these anymore," Lux said, inspecting the flowers with disdain. "You don't deserve his love, nor do you deserve to love him."

Acier nodded once more, the light in her eyes completely extinguished.

Lux twisted the doorknob and glanced over his shoulder, his smirk deepening. "Such cheap flowers. I'll get you some better ones."

Acier replied, her voice hollow. "Thank you, sir."

Lux strode out of the room, his grin blooming like a poisonous flower. He shot a dark glare at Hilda on his way out, leaving the maid trembling in his wake.

As the door clicked shut, Acier collapsed onto her bed. Her skin was pallid, her eyes devoid of color, her entire being drained of spirit.

After a long, suffocating silence, she whispered to herself, "I hate love."

Acier was done with love.

Author's Notes:

[1] Here we are, I've been waiting to write this chapter for so long, ever since I first introduced Lux, originally I wanted to foreshadow it or fit it in with that chapter where Sebastian killed Lux, but I couldn't manage to do so without making things difficult to understand.

[2] Well anyways, I suppose now you guys can understand where Lux's obsession with Acier, and Acier's hate for Lux came from. 

To Lux, Acier was practically in his back pocket, the literal key to his throne, and to Acier he was the roadblock to her love and freedom.

Just like how Lux equated all of Sebastian's and the Branch member's suffering to Acier's existence, Acier shall equate all this madness and her years of suffering to Lux's existence. 

And that is why he is the person she hates most in life.

[3] Feel free to join the discord: https://discord.gg/s3MME8X8ar