"That is precisely the problem," Ivanka snapped. "He is more stubborn. More dangerous. And now he has a weakness."
The word hung in the air.Weakness.
Marquess Kosler narrowed his eyes. "You know what my daughter ans."
The elder t his gaze evenly. "We do. And that is exactly why we did not push him further tonight."
Ivanka let out a short, scornful laugh. "So you’re afraid?"
"We are calculating," the elder replied calmly. "Demian Morvex is not a young man who can be bent with old threats. The harder he is pressed, the harder he will push back."
Marquess Kosler scoffed. "Then what is your plan? To let him disgrace our family? To allow him to choose that woman over a formal bond?"
Her na was not spoken, yet everyone in the room knew exactly who was ant.
Another elder finally spoke, his voice colder than the rest. "That woman is no longer rely a kept companion. She carries Morvex blood."
Ivanka froze. Her fingers clenched tightly into the fabric of her gown. "Then all the more reason to act quickly," she said more softly now yet laced with venom. "Before Demian makes a choice that cannot be undone."
"We have already acted," the first elder replied. "In our own way."
Marquess Kosler looked at them one by one. "Your way is too lenient."
The elder returned his stare without flinching. "And yours is too reckless."
Silence fell again—this ti charged with friction.
Ivanka turned her face away, her breathing uneven. Beneath her anger lurked sothing darker, fear. For the first ti since her engagent was announced, she felt her position truly slipping.
"If Demian does not return," she said at last, her voice low, "the na Kosler will be humiliated. And I—I will not accept that."
Marquess Kosler nodded grimly. "You owe us. Do not forget our family’s support is what has kept many things running smoothly."
The elder folded his fingers together. "We have not forgotten. But rember this well Demian Morvex cannot be broken the way his father was."
He paused, then added in a tone that sent a chill down Ivanka’s spine, "And if forced to choose... he will choose to burn everything to the ground."
Ivanka swallowed hard. Her anger had not faded but it was now laced with bitter clarity.
That sa night, far from the Kosler estate, one truth beca clear to all sides:
Demian had gone too far to simply turn back.
And Valerie whether she realized it or not had beco the fulcrum upon which everything now turned.
"Ivanka," he said in a low voice, heavy with pressure, "you should know what the most appropriate course of action is now."
Ivanka let out a short laugh one that held no trace of amusent. Her eyes glead, not with tears, but with anger long held and finally unrestrained.
"If what you want is for to be carrying Demian’s child," she said coldly, almost piercing, "then I have tried to make that happen hundreds of tis."
The words echoed through the dining hall.
No one spoke.
Marquess Kosler froze. The anger that had flushed his face monts ago drained away, leaving it pale. The elders exchanged looks, their expressions shifting this was not the answer they had expected. Even the servants standing at the far corners of the room held their breath, keenly aware that they were witnessing sothing never ant for their ears.
"Demian has no interest in ," Ivanka continued, her voice lower now, yet sharper for it. "He never has."
The silence grew heavier, suffocating.
"What do you an, Ivanka?" Marquess Kosler finally said, his voice hoarse, almost unbelieving. "Explain yourself."
Ivanka did not answer at once. She turned her face away, her jaw tightening. For a brief mont, the arrogance that always clung to her fell apart, revealing a woman wounded by a rejection she had never allowed herself to admit.
One of the elders leaned forward, his gaze sharp but now cautious."Do you an," he asked slowly, as if afraid of the answer itself, "that you were never touched by Demian Morvex?"
Ivanka drew a long breath. It trembled as it left her.
"Demian," she said at last, still not looking at anyone, "has never touched ."
The words struck like a hamr.
Marquess Kosler sank back into his chair, his face hollow."No... that makes no sense," he murmured. "You are betrothed. You—"
"We are bound only on paper," Ivanka cut in. "In the eyes of the public. Before the elders. But never in his bed."
The elders were visibly shaken now. This was no longer rely a faltering alliance—it was an open insult to the order they had spent their lives upholding.
"So," one of them said coldly, "all this ti you allowed us to believe the bond was proceeding as it should?"
Ivanka laughed again, this ti bitter."I believed it would change too," she said quietly. "I thought... if I were patient enough, obedient enough, perfect enough, one day he would see ."
Her gaze dropped to the table, her eyes glinting."But he didn’t. From the very beginning, his eyes were never on ."
Marquess Kosler clenched his fists. Anger and humiliation twisted together in his chest.
"Then that woman," he said in a low, pressing voice, "what of her?"
Ivanka lifted her head. For the first ti that night, there was no mocking smile on her face only cold hatred.
"With her," she said softly, "Demian chose without hesitation."
The elders exchanged looks once more. Now everything was clear: why threats failed, why Demian dared to refuse, why even his father’s na could not bind him.
The eldest among them finally spoke, his voice heavy."If that is the case," he said, "then this situation is far more complicated than we anticipated."
Ivanka straightened. Her wounded pride lay exposed, yet now sealed over with hard resolve."I have done my part," she said firmly. "If you wish to preserve this bond, do not expect to carry the burden alone."
Marquess Kosler stared at his daughter for a long mont, as though seeing her clearly for the first ti."Ivanka..." he said softly but he did not know how to finish the thought.
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