Chapter 115

“How could you possibly do this to me?” Odette demanded, her voice trembling with a sharp, jagged edge.

Bahar looked as though he had a thousand things to say, but he forced himself to maintain a stoic, weary patience. His daughter, however, possessed no such restraint. She funneled her rising fury into a tone so pointed it could draw blood, her eyes brimming with a murderous glare.

Anyone else witnessing this would have been stunned. The capital’s “dearest lady,” famous for a disposition as warm and mild as a summer sun, was currently wearing an expression so ghoulish it defied imagination.

“I waited for you,” she spat, her words like whip-cracks. “I stood by while you went off to war. And now you come back to tell me you’re breaking our engagement? That you won’t take responsibility for me?”

Jocelyn, maintaining a mask of polite affability, countered smoothly, “Weren’t you actually delighted by my departure?”

“Who on earth would be happy to see their fiancé march into a death trap?” Odette hissed.

Jocelyn mocked her inwardly. The kind of woman who rolls around with two male attendants on the very day her fiancé departs, he thought. Outwardly, however, he kept his face a canvas of kindness.

“The delay of our marriage was always at your behest,” Jocelyn reminded her, his voice cool. “I have always accommodated your conditions. It is only fair, Princess, that you now accommodate mine.”

It was an open secret that Odette had been the one skeptical of marriage. She craved the title of Princess Consort, yet she mourned the loss of the freedom that would vanish the moment she said her vows. Knowing that marriage would put an end to her libertine lifestyle, she had pushed the ceremony back with one excuse after another.

The reason for her sudden change of heart after three years was obvious: her age. The crisis of her ticking clock had finally set in. As the war dragged on longer than anyone anticipated, every day past her prime must have felt like an ordeal.

She was still undeniably beautiful, and her reputation as the capital’s premier socialite remained intact, but no beauty was a match for the relentless march of time. Having spent her late teens and early twenties indulging in every whim while delaying her commitment, she had finally decided it was time to settle down—only for her fiancé to undergo a sudden change of heart at the most critical juncture.

“I no longer see a reason why I must go through with a marriage to you,” Jocelyn stated plainly.

“I suppose you’re quite proud of yourself for falling for my sister,” Odette sneered, her dignity fraying. “To come here and act so bold.”

“Your sister proved to be a far more suitable candidate for the role of Princess Consort,” Jocelyn replied. “Marriage, after all, is merely a tool for a firm alliance. Our engagement was a business transaction for the sake of our families; changing the bride does not change the nature of the deal.”

Odette fell silent, her breath hitching.

“When a better option exists in the eldest daughter,” Jocelyn continued, “I see no reason to proceed while turning a blind eye to your colorful private life.”

At the mention of her colorful private life, the Duke’s fiery gaze snapped toward Odette. She froze, a flicker of genuine panic crossing her features.

“My private life? What are you talking about?” she stammered, trying to regain her footing. “Are you slandering me as a harlot just to force a broken engagement?”

Odette had always been careful. She chose her bedfellows from the mansion’s servants, and once she was finished with them, she had them sold off to brothels to ensure their silence. No one should have known. How did the Prince have this information? A sudden image of Odelliana flashed through her mind.

“My sister slandered me, didn’t she?” Odette spat.

“Slander? You seem to have a poor grasp of reality,” Jocelyn said. He was still smiling, but his eyes had long since turned to ice. “Did you truly think I remained ignorant all this time?”

Sensing the shift in the room, the Duke decided to dismiss his daughter before her temper caused further damage. “Leave us,” he commanded.

“Father,” she pleaded.

“I said leave,” Bahar barked.

Odette stood up so abruptly she nearly knocked over her chair, her movements devoid of their usual grace. The moment she turned her back, her face—previously stained with humiliation—shifted instantly into a mask of cold, dignified indifference.

Watching her exit, Jocelyn turned to the Duke with a smirk. “You should consider a career in the theater for her, Duke. She has quite the range.”

The Duke did not laugh.

“You must realize, Your Highness, that your current course of action is irregular,” Bahar noted.

“It is uncommon, I’ll grant you that,” Jocelyn admitted.

“Then why Odelliana? Why pass over Odette, who was raised properly and is of sound body, for a cripple? Bringing such a woman into the royal family will do nothing for your honor. You’ll be lucky if you aren’t made a laughingstock.”

“Sound of body?” Jocelyn let out a boisterous, mocking laugh. “Odette is the one with the fatal flaw, Duke. It’s just better at staying hidden.”

The Duke stiffened. Jocelyn leaned forward, his eyes narrowing as he spoke with biting sarcasm. “Did you think I wouldn’t find out? That one twin was born a cripple, and the other with a fatal defect of the heart?”

The secret Bahar had spent a lifetime burying was suddenly laid bare. A crack finally appeared in his expressionless mask. His eyes shook, and a muscle in his jaw twitched uncontrollably. Jocelyn watched the Duke’s composure crumble with clinical interest. He crossed his legs, leaned back, and lit a cigar.

“Listen to me, Bahar von Grüsewald,” Jocelyn said, exhaling a plume of smoke. “This is clear fraud. It is an insult to the Crown.”

“I am at a loss for words,” the Duke whispered.

“Did you plan to hide it forever? To sell her off to the royal family before she dropped dead? Have you lost your mind, or just your sight?”

“Sell her off? That is a preposterous accusation,” Bahar managed to grit out. “We know the cure. Odette will not die. Therefore, no fraud was committed. She will fulfill her duties as Princess Consort perfectly.”

“The cure? You mean that ridiculous method suggested by a quack midwife from the Cingene tribe?”

Bahar turned a sickly shade of grey. Jocelyn laughed at him through a cloud of smoke. “Swapping the organs of a living human being, a monstrous suggestion, wouldn’t you say?”

The Duke gasped, unable to form a defense.

“Don’t look so shocked,” Jocelyn said, flicking ash onto the floor. “I don’t do things halfway. I know the cause of the illness is the Beast’s Curse. I know you took counsel from a Cingene shaman. Don’t bother with excuses.”

Jocelyn blew a thick cloud of smoke directly into the Duke’s face. It was a flagrant insult, but the Duke could do nothing but let his face contort in silent rage.

“The Beast’s Curse? Are you truly the sort of man to believe in such superstitions, Duke?”

Bahar remained silent.

“Well, perhaps. In a world where beasts exist, I suppose curses might too,” Jocelyn mused, his tone bored. “But even so, a person should live according to their fate. To sacrifice the living Lady Odelliana to save Lady Odette, does that sound like something a sane man would do?”

The Prince stood up, smoothing his tunic. “I have no desire for a wife who is destined to die. The previous engagement is void. I will proceed with the marriage to the eldest daughter.”

Jocelyn knew the King would grant the request. He had returned from the war a hero, and since he was still marrying into the Grüsewald line, the objective of the alliance remained intact. The engagement had been kept a secret from the general public, so there would be no scandal.

Bahar, however, was in a nightmare. To present a “cripple” as the bride was a stain on his noble blood. But worse was the fact that Odelliana harbored a deep, justified resentment toward the family. If she became royalty, she wouldn’t cooperate; she would likely hold the knife to their throats.

Something is wrong, Bahar thought, his mind racing. How is this happening?

He couldn’t fathom how his “idiot” eldest daughter had managed to assist the Prince on the front lines. He had raised her in total neglect; she could communicate and read, but she had no education, no knowledge of the world. How could a girl who could barely move and was, in his mind, simple-witted, achieve anything in a war?

After the Prince departed, Bahar sank into his chair, lost in the shadows of the past.

He was a man who had voluntarily surrendered his kingdom to Reveln thirty years ago, unlike the other lords who had fought and bled. He had claimed he did it to minimize casualties, but the truth was uglier: he had sold out his parents, his siblings, and his country to secure his status as the Lord of the North.

That opportunism had earned him the eternal scorn of the old nobility. The name Grüsewald was synonymous with “Traitor.” Even as he expanded his territory and brought prosperity to the North, the brand remained. To this day, other nobles mocked him, whispering that the traitor was merely playing at being high-born.

He had the blood of kings, but the stain of his betrayal made his position precarious. His eldest son, Hermann, had shown no interest in women or politics, eventually dying in battle. His second son, Blair, was an independent rebel who refused to play the game.

His last remaining asset was Odette.

He had raised her with everything, investing all his hopes into her beauty and wit. When her engagement to the young Prince was settled, he felt the slights of the past finally melting away. He just needed the wedding to happen.

But now, Bahar was faced with an impossible choice. To follow the Prince’s demand was to hand Odelliana the power to destroy him. To refuse was to face a public trial for fraud and the exposure of the family’s darkest secrets.

“Father, I will never accept a broken engagement,” Odette declared, having re-entered the room.

The Duke offered no reply.

“Don’t let the Prince win this power struggle. You have to stand firm.”

Odette, unaware of how much Jocelyn truly knew, stood tall with a sharp ambition that matched her father’s. She would never step aside for the twin sister she had spent a lifetime despising.

Bahar simply let out a long, heavy sigh. He looked at his daughters, one a secret, the other a lie, and wondered how he was supposed to survive the choice.