[Wanda].
I could barely stomach what I was eating.
Every bite felt like sandpaper in my throat, but I didn’t dare excuse myself, not with my father sitting there, his expression as cold and unreadable as ever.
So I deliberately ate slowly, pretending to chew when all I wanted to do was throw the entire plate against the wall.
But the mont his knife and fork hit the plate, signalling he was done, I stopped pretending.
He stood, gave a single glance—one of those silent warnings, and left the room without a word.
The second he was gone, I dropped my cutlery, grabbed my napkin, and spat the at into it, my stomach twisting.
The napkin crumpled easily in my hand, but I slamd it down on the table anyway, my chest rising and falling with the effort to keep myself from screaming.
I had never felt this angry, not even the tis I wished to see Draven’s face in my dreams and got nothing.
My hands were shaking as I pushed back from the table and stood up. I didn’t wait for the servants to open the door for . I just walked out, my heels clicking against the marble, every step fueled by pure frustration.
By the ti I reached my bedroom, I didn’t bother being quiet. The door slamd behind with a sound that shook the fra.
I started pacing back and forth. Every thought just added more heat to the fire in my chest. It felt like everyone was against .
Draven’s coldness was understandable. I had broken his trust, and I knew it would take ti to rebuild. But my father? He was a whole different case. He had been the one pushing toward Draven and insisting that I beco his wife.
And yet, he knew Draven was back and didn’t even think to tell .
My breath ca out in quick, uneven bursts as I turned toward the window, glaring at nothing.
Then another thought hit like a spark catching dry wood. Levi.
If anyone else knew, it would be my brother. He always knew everything before I did.
I marched to my nightstand, snatched up my phone, and unlocked it with trembling fingers. My contacts blurred for a mont before I found his na.
Without hesitation, I pressed the call button and brought the phone to my ear.
It rang once. Twice. Three tis. And with each ring, my heartbeat climbed higher in my throat. But finally, on the fourth ring, I heard his voice.
"Wanda?"
"Levi," I said quickly, trying to keep the urgency out of my tone and failing miserably. "Did you know that Draven has returned to Stormveil?"
There was a brief pause on the other end, then he spoke, "No. I haven’t heard anything. Has he?"
"Yes," I snapped. "He arrived this morning."
I began pacing again, phone pressed tightly to my ear. "I heard it from the servants, Levi. The servants. They were gossiping about it downstairs, and when I asked Father, he didn’t even deny it. He just looked at like I was wasting his ti."
Levi exhaled quietly—the sound of soone bracing himself for a storm.
"And?" he asked, his tone still maddeningly calm.
"And?" My voice rose. "He knew! He knew Draven was coming ho, and he didn’t even think I deserved to know! He is supposed to be on my side, Levi. Isn’t he the one who wanted to get close to Draven in the first place?"
"Wanda," Levi said, his voice soft but edged with warning. "You should rember that Father is still angry with you."
That stopped for half a second.
I frowned, my grip tightening on the phone. "For how long is he going to stay angry? It’s not my fault that Draven forced out of Duskmoor and sent back here. It was Father’s fault to begin with!"
I stopped myself, my voice cracking slightly before I caught it. "Besides, that was months ago. Months. Why does he still have it in mind?"
There was silence for a mont. Then Levi sighed.
"I don’t have the energy for this conversation, Wanda," he said quietly. "You know how Father is. Nothing you say will change it."
His voice sounded distant now, already pulling away from the argunt.
I closed my eyes and let out a long, frustrated breath. "Fine," I muttered. "Goodbye."
"Goodbye," he said, and the line went dead a second later.
I lowered the phone slowly, staring at the dark screen for a long mont. The anger didn’t fade; it just settled deeper, simring.
I sank onto the edge of the bed, but my mind wouldn’t stop spinning.
’How am I supposed to see him?’
If I showed up at the Oatrun estate unannounced, Draven would probably have turned away before I even reached the gate.
The thought of it made my chest tighten—humiliation mixed with a faint, stubborn ache.
I tried to think. Tried to imagine what I would even say to him if I sohow got the chance. ’Would he even listen?’
My thoughts were still tangled when a soft knock sounded at the door.
"Who is it?" I snapped, sharper than I intended.
There was a brief pause, then a timid voice. "It’s , my Lady."
I exhaled through my nose, trying to rein myself in. "Co in."
The door opened slowly, and the servant stepped inside, clutching her apron like a lifeline. Her eyes darted to mine and then to the floor.
"Well?" I said impatiently.
"Your father sent ," she said quickly. "He says you should prepare to accompany him to the Oatrun estate this evening... for a banquet."
For a heartbeat, I just stared at her.
"What?" I asked, my voice rising despite myself. "Did he actually say that?"
era nodded, her gaze still fixed on the carpet. "Yes, Ma’am. The car will be ready before dusk."
I blinked, my thoughts catching up with my heartbeat.
"Alright," I said finally. "You may go."
She bowed and backed out of the room in a hurry, closing the door behind her with obvious relief.
The mont she was gone, I turned in a slow circle, my pulse racing.
A banquet? Of course. It had to be for Draven. Father wouldn’t be attending any other kind of celebration at the Oatrun estate.
A sharp thrill ran through —unexpected and fierce.
"So," I whispered under my breath, "I will see you after all."
I couldn’t stop smiling. For the first ti in weeks, I actually felt alive. Then it hit —the urgency, sudden and undeniable.
"I need to find sothing to wear," I said out loud, already moving toward my wardrobe.
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