Chapter 92

“My lady, the Lord of the Castle requests your presence.”

“My brother? Tell him I’ll come shortly.”

Odelliana handed off the remaining distribution duties to Malena and the other maids before taking the carriage back to the castle. The cold bit at her fingers as she climbed inside, but the chill seemed far less pressing than the quiet anxiety that grew in her chest with every turn of the wheels. When she arrived, she didn’t even bother to remove her outdoor clothes before going straight to Blair’s study.

He greeted her quietly. The faint curve of his lips suggested warmth, but the shadow across his face told another story. Odelliana sensed immediately that whatever news awaited her would not be good. She sat, composed but tense, bracing herself.

“You’ve done well enduring the cold,” he said, voice mild yet weighted. “I heard you went out to serve meals again today?”

“The orphanage is always short of hands,” she replied lightly.

“Doesn’t going every day tire you?”

“It does,” she admitted, a wry smile ghosting across her lips. “But sitting idle inside the castle feels worse. My body stiffens if I don’t move, and it makes me more restless. Anyway, what’s happened?”

Blair reached for something on his desk and handed it to her. It was a small envelope stamped with the royal seal. The moment she unfolded it and read, her lips pressed into a pale line.

“The Second Prince’s division,” she whispered. “He’s leading the Second Order of Knights here?”

Her heart sank. Of all the possible news, this was one she least wished to hear. Matthias remained unaccounted for, and now this—this cursed message about the prince’s visit—landed in her hands instead. The strength drained from her fingers as the letter fluttered against her lap.

“Why here, of all places?” she asked, her voice trembling with restrained indignation. “There are countless cities near Anatolia. Why would they choose Eisenwald—my territory under the House of Schaller—rather than the lands of the Grüsewalds?”

“Because I’m the one governing it, most likely,” Blair said, his tone pragmatic but weary. “Geographically, it’s easier to establish a defensive line here. Eisenwald’s location makes it a key stronghold and a convenient hub for troop movement. Strategically, it makes sense. And…” He hesitated before finishing quietly, “our elder brother is likely to regroup here with Prince Jocelyn’s forces after his retreat.”

The sound of those two names together—Jocelyn and Hermann—was enough to make Odelliana’s stomach twist. She pressed her fingers against her temple, suppressing a groan.

“At least Matthias is still away on campaign,” she muttered to herself. That was, perhaps, the only mercy left to her. Were he here, she’d have to endure not just Jocelyn’s presence but also the risk of losing the man she cherished most.

Still, the idea of living even temporarily under the same roof as Jocelyn and Hermann made her blood curdle. She doubted Jocelyn would go so far as to retaliate for what happened years ago, but that didn’t mean she wanted to see his smug face again. The thought alone made her hands tremble. Their last encounter had nearly ended in disaster. And this time, she could not trust herself to keep calm if provoked.

She could picture it too vividly—her temper snapping, lunging at him in blind rage, both of them locked in a death spiral of vengeance. But she couldn’t. She mustn’t. If she gave in to such recklessness, all of Matthias’s efforts at the front—the blood, the sacrifices—would crumble into nothing.

Perhaps she should flee. But where? The war had made travel impossible. Many cities had already sealed their gates, closing off all passage to strangers. The roads connecting the provinces were patrolled or outright blocked. Refugees from Anatolia wandered, unable to find shelter. To move now would mean suspicion, interrogation, possibly arrest.

No, there was nowhere to go.

“I’ll stay at the orphanage for the time being,” she said finally.

Blair frowned deeply. “You mean to live outside the castle?”

Her brother’s surprise was understandable. It was midwinter, and no place in the territory was as warm or secure as the main keep. The orphanage, by contrast, was barely heated and poorly guarded. His protest was immediate.

“That’s too dangerous.”

“You can increase my guard detail,” she countered calmly. “I’ll only stay there until winter passes.”

“There may still be mercenaries our father once hired lurking about,” he argued. “We’ve cleared most of them out, but it’s too soon to feel safe. Let me arrange another residence for you.”

“Just assign more guards,” she insisted. “There are many people in the orphanage. They wouldn’t dare make a move there.”

Blair’s jaw tightened. “Even so—”

“The Second Prince I could stomach,” she interrupted sharply, “but not our elder brother. What do you think will happen if he sees me here? He’ll drag me straight back to the main estate.” Her voice cracked, the memory bitter. “If that happens… I won’t survive. You know what I went through to escape.”

Jocelyn. Hermann. Two names she could not bear to hear, much less face. She doubted either man would wander into the outer districts anyway. Royalty and noble lords rarely concerned themselves with the poor. They wouldn’t set foot near a place as humble—and, to them, as filthy—as an orphanage. Which made it perfect for hiding.

“Malena and the girls who usually accompany me to the orphanage will suffice,” she added. “Please ensure the rest of the staff keep quiet about where I’m staying. Neither Prince Jocelyn nor Hermann must hear a word of it.”

Blair exhaled sharply. “Perhaps I should ask Lord Adolf to take you in for a while. It might be safer.”

“Leaving the territory now would be far more dangerous,” she said firmly. “I’ll stay here.”

He ran a hand down his face, weariness and helplessness mingling in his eyes. Between his brother and the prince, he had no power to refuse either of them. Yet he could not expose Odelliana, not after all she’d endured. There was only one path left to take.

“Then bear with it for a little while longer,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry, Odelliana.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” she replied. “It can’t be helped. Maybe it’s for the best. It was tiring enough traveling back and forth every day.”

If nothing else, at least she had somewhere to go. After all, she’d spent months helping there; the orphanage director wouldn’t refuse to take her in.

“It’ll be uncomfortable,” Blair murmured.

“I’ve lived in a stable loft before,” she said with a faint smirk. “The orphanage is a luxury compared to that.”

He didn’t answer, but the silence between them was heavy with worry.

“Don’t fret,” she added softly. “It’ll only be for a short while.”

A short while. That was all she needed to endure.

When she rose and left the study, Blair remained seated, his hands clasped tightly before his mouth, lost in thought. Then came a hesitant knock.

“Enter,” he said.

Marco stepped inside, his posture respectful but uneasy. “My lord, there’s word from Lord Adolf. He’s found Rosan Cobalt.”

Blair’s head lifted sharply. “He found him?”

“Yes, my lord. The carriage is on its way.”

The hinges creaked as the door opened. A frail old man entered, leaning heavily on his cane, his breaths shallow and ragged. He looked as though death might claim him before the night was out. Blair, startled, hurried to offer him a chair and ordered the servants to bring water and refreshments.

Though Blair had sent a carriage to fetch him from his hermitage on the Robilan plains, the journey had clearly taken its toll. After a few sips of water, Rosan’s breathing steadied. The old man’s fingers, thin and trembling, brushed the overgrown white brows above his weary eyes.

“My, how you’ve grown,” he said finally, his voice hoarse with age. “The last time I saw you, you were only five. You’ve become the very image of your father.”

A faint smile crossed his lips, only to vanish as quickly as it appeared. His gaze dropped to the floor, burdened with guilt. “I should have come sooner. But I lacked the courage. To see you now, knowing what I did… I hardly have the right.”

Blair studied him, unreadable. “You know why I sent for you.”

“I do.” The old man’s voice trembled. “It’s because of Lady Odelliana, isn’t it?”

Blair’s expression darkened. “Yes.”

Rosan’s cloudy eyes lifted. “Is she here, in this castle?”

“Why do you ask?” Blair’s tone sharpened.

“She deserves to know the truth you seek,” the old man replied quietly. “Even if it wounds her.”

“If it’s something that will cause her pain—”

“She must hear it nonetheless.”

Blair hesitated, unease creeping into his chest. The man’s words carried the weight of long-buried confession. Whatever truth he held, Blair already sensed it would not be one he wished to hear.

“Very well,” he said at last. “Marco, bring Odelliana here.”

When Odelliana entered the study, she was met by an unfamiliar old man and a tension thick enough to choke on. She bowed politely, masking her confusion.

“Odelliana,” Blair said, “this is Rosan Cobalt. He served as our family’s steward when you were born.”

Her brows knit faintly. Why summon her for this? Still, she inclined her head respectfully. “It’s an honor.”

Rosan’s gaze swept over her face, and his lips trembled. He lowered his head, his frail shoulders shaking as though beneath an invisible weight.

“I was only five,” Blair said, breaking the silence. “I remember almost nothing from that time.”

“And yet,” Rosan whispered, “there’s a sin I must confess before I die.”

A chill passed through the room. Odelliana’s breath hitched; she could already guess where this was going. Her heart thudded painfully in her chest.

If he speaks of the curse, she thought, her eyes flickering toward Blair, if he tells him everything—

Blair’s gaze was grave, his silence heavy with expectation. Odelliana wanted to flee, to run before the words could be spoken. But her body refused to move.

“I traced you through your father’s letters,” Blair said quietly. “He’s been threatening me for months, demanding I send you back. I could never understand why they hated you so much. I thought perhaps it was your… condition. But even then, their cruelty didn’t make sense. They feared for you while despising you. It never added up.”

He looked toward Rosan. “And so I began to search for someone who knew the truth.”

Rosan drew in a long, shuddering breath. “Then allow me to tell it.”

He began his tale—one Odelliana already knew, though hearing it aloud felt like being forced to swallow shards of glass.

The duchess had nearly died in childbirth. In desperation, the duke sought every physician and healer in the realm, until one day a Romani soothsayer was brought before him. With strange rituals and chants, she guided the duchess through the agonizing labor, and two daughters were born—twins. But the woman spoke a dire prophecy: the children were bound by a beast’s curse, destined as mortal enemies. Only one could survive.

“From that day forward,” Rosan said, “the duchess suffered from terrible nerves. She could not live without drink. Guilt consumed her.”

She blamed her husband for giving her the cursed ring that had carried the hex. And even as her body weakened, she searched desperately for a way to lift the curse.

“She found the soothsayer again,” Rosan continued. “And learned of one method. Among her people, there was a forbidden art—surgery that could transplant organs between living bodies. She proposed exchanging the cursed heart of one twin for the other’s. It was the only way, she said, to confine the curse to one vessel.”

Odelliana’s nails dug into her palms.

“That’s impossible,” Blair breathed.

“And yet it was done,” Rosan said quietly. “Lady Odelliana survived only as a sacrifice.”

Blair staggered back, his face ashen. “No… that’s madness!”

He couldn’t comprehend it—the years of cruelty, the endless neglect—all because their parents believed a charlatan’s prophecy.

“A curse?” he spat. “You expect me to believe such superstition?”

Rosan’s eyes dimmed with pity. “They believed because they saw what should not have been possible. The duchess’s life returned from the brink. The soothsayer showed the duke a vision of the future with her own hand. After that… he believed everything.”

Blair’s breath came ragged and unsteady. He lowered his face into his hands, unable to speak, as tears welled unbidden in his eyes.

And across from him, Odelliana sat frozen—her secret, at last, stripped bare.