Ivanka had just stepped down from the carriage when her gaze caught sight of a figure standing not far from the side gate of the castle.
Her steps slowed.
Not out of surprise but out of interest.
The young woman stood with a posture that tried to appear steady, yet was far too rigid to be truly calm. Her dress was simple and neat, clearly not chosen for a casual visit. There was purpose there. And unease, carefully hidden behind polite composure.
Ivanka recognized the face.
A faint smile curved her lips one that slowly sharpened into a subtle smirk.
"Bianca Austin?" she called.
Bianca startled, as if her na had been pulled forcibly from her thoughts. She turned, her brown eyes widening briefly before she bowed her head.
"Lady...?" she said hesitantly, then swallowed. "Lady Ivanka."
Ivanka walked closer, the sound of her shoes echoing lightly against the stone. She studied Bianca without pretense from her pale yet pretty face to the hands clasped together far too tightly.
"What are you doing here?" Ivanka asked, her tone pleasant, almost friendly.
Bianca drew a deep breath. This was the mont she knew it. If she retreated now, she might never find this courage again.
"I... wish to speak with you," she said softly.
Ivanka stopped directly in front of her and folded her arms across her chest, her posture relaxed, as though this conversation were nothing more than mild entertainnt.
"About what?"
Bianca lifted her head. Her eyes trembled, but her resolve was unmistakable.
"I want to accept your offer," she said at last. "The offer you once made to ."
For a mont, Ivanka was silent.
Then she laughed a short, cold laugh, heavy with aning.
"Ah," she said, "so you’ve finally reached this point."
She tilted her head, studying Bianca with sharp eyes gleaming with satisfaction.
"Do you now believe," she continued slowly, each word deliberate, "that what I offer is valuable enough to free you and your lover from that family of yours?"
Bianca swallowed hard. Her family na felt like a weight crushing her chest debts, demands, a father who was never satisfied, and a future that felt like a trap.
"I believe," she said quietly, "that only you can save us."
Ivanka laughed again, this ti more openly, unmistakably mocking.
"How interesting," she said. "Instead of following in your sister’s footsteps so enchanted by wealthy n that she didn’t hesitate to tempt soone else’s partner you ca to ."
She stepped closer, close enough that Bianca instinctively held her breath.
"You want freedom," Ivanka continued, her voice soft but edged like a blade. "Not power. Not luxury. But freedom... with the man you love."
Bianca clenched her fists. Sha flickered there, along with anger but also a truth she could not deny.
"You were the one who said," she replied at last, her voice steadier despite the tears gathering in her eyes, "that you could give titles and wealth. A life no longer controlled by my family."
She t Ivanka’s gaze directly.
"I will accept it," she said. "As long as you keep your promise."
Silence fell between them.
Ivanka studied Bianca for a long mont as if weighing sothing unseen. Then, slowly, her expression changed. The smile that appeared this ti was no longer mocking, but the satisfied smile of soone who had just won a ga.
"Good," she said softly. "I like people who know what they want... and are brave enough to pay for it."
She lowered her arms and extended one hand.
"Then, Bianca Austin," she continued, "from today onward, you walk beside ."
Bianca stared at the offered hand.
She knew that once she took it, there would be no turning back. Yet beneath the fear, there was a small, stubborn hope for a life no longer entirely dictated by others.
With a trembling breath, Bianca took Ivanka’s hand.
And Ivanka smiled.
Behind the calm mask of her face, a new plan began to move slowly, ticulously, and lethally.
Bianca had already returned ho when dusk began to fall, staining the sky with a pale orange that felt cold to her eyes.
She paused for a mont at the threshold of the sitting room, then turned toward the balcony. There as always her father and mother sat at ease. A teacup rested in her mother’s hand, her father reclined comfortably in his chair, tilted just so, as if the world had always been kind to them. As if there were no debts, no pressure, no children turned into bargaining chips.
Bianca stepped closer.
Count Austin was the first to look up. "Where have you been?" he asked, his tone flat not concerned, but demanding.
Her mother spoke before Bianca could answer. "Bianca, you shouldn’t go out so often," she said with a small sigh, as though gently correcting a stubborn child. "You must mind your conduct. The Duke will find a suitable match for you. Behavior like this is unbecoming of a woman from our family."
Bianca stood before them, her hands folded neatly in front of her too neatly for soone who had just made a life-altering decision.
"I went to a tea gathering," she replied shortly.
Count Austin smiled in satisfaction, as though her answer confird his own expectations. "Good," he said. "The Duke will surely find you a fine match. You won’t have to suffer anymore."
He leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with calculation.
"Look at Valerie," he continued. "She lives well now. She even secured a duke whose power is nearly equal to the Emperor’s."
Sothing hardened in Bianca’s chest.
Valerie.
Always Valerie.
She lifted her face and looked directly at her father. Her lips curved slightly not into a smile, but into a thin, bitter line.
"Unfortunately," she said quietly, "I’m not a seductress like Valerie."
The air on the balcony shifted.
Count Austin chuckled, a short laugh that never reached his eyes.
"And that," he said lightly, as if comnting on the weather, "is precisely the problem. Valerie is far more profitable. What this family has gained simply because she beca a duke’s woman... is far greater."
Her mother nodded in agreent, sipping her tea without looking at Bianca.
"Especially if she truly becos the duke’s wife," she added. "You should learn from her."
The words fell one by one, striking Bianca without rcy.
She stood there, listening but this ti, sothing inside her no longer cracked.
She understood now.
To them, Valerie was not a sister.
She was an investnt.
And Bianca... was rely a reserve that had yet to yield returns.
Bianca lowered her head briefly, hiding the cold glint in her eyes.
"Oh," she said lightly, almost politely. "So that’s what Father and Mother want."
Count Austin waved a hand. "We’re only thinking of what’s best for the family."
Bianca nodded slowly.
"I understand,"
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