Willabelle's warm breath lingered against my face, and the garden's coolness seemed to vanish in an instant. My hands went to her waist of their own accord; as I drew her body slightly toward me, our eyes locked.

When the warmth of her lips withdrew, only the light of her silver eyes remained. That look was neither one of surrender nor of outright challenge; it hovered between the two, balanced on a razor's edge.

Without taking my hand from her waist, I studied her face. A faint smile lingered at the corner of her mouth. As the flowers in the garden trembled in the breeze, her calm did not bring me comfort so much as a curious alertness. Yes, this woman was giving me her consent, but there was surely another calculation behind it. And I, knowingly, was stepping into that calculation.

"A good choice for a beginning."

Willabelle raised a single brow at my words. The smile on her lips still bore the mark of the kiss, but the cold, calculating glint in her eyes had not diminished in the slightest.

"I'm sorry… but today I don't want to go beyond a beginning."

Her words confirmed the distance in her eyes, not any softness on her lips. In that moment I realized Willabelle wasn't surrendering herself; by touching me she was defining her limits. The cool breeze of the garden threaded between us again, and a half-smile hovered unfinished on my lips.

I slowly withdrew my hand from her waist. "That's it for today, then?" I asked, a faint challenge in my voice.

Willabelle's silver eyes lingered on me a heartbeat longer. "You don't end a game on the first move, my lord. Especially if it's a game worth winning."

With that, she stepped back. As she passed through the flowers, the wind tossed her black hair, yet her gaze never dropped to the ground. The space she left behind seemed to bury the whole garden in silence.

I took a deep breath and tilted my head to the sky. Apparently, this woman had not merely given me a kiss; she had, with patience, slipped a thin chain around my neck.

"Very well… have it your way."

When I went to my study, the cool air brushed over my desk. I left the sweet moment with Willabelle and set myself to work. Frankly, I knew I'd been far too lenient with Willabelle. The price of her crime ought to have been heavier.

But because of the Magnus factor, I didn't want to be excessively cruel. Punishing the woman who was the mother of the future's strongest warrior would be, in a way, a form of suicide.

Of course, there was nothing physically stopping me from killing a child like Magnus right now. But why would I? In a world filled with monstrously powerful men, why squander my strongest trump card just to satisfy my ego or "deliver justice"?

My aim wasn't merely to use those two children as shields and hide behind them. I would become stronger while allowing them to grow stronger, but why not shape the future's two most powerful children into unquestioning super-soldiers who would obey my commands? And my kindness toward Annabel and Willabelle was not motivated solely by sexual desire, either.

As my hand wandered across the papers, an image from my old life surfaced: a small lecture hall at university, assignments hurriedly finished at midnight, the glow of a cafe. The helplessness of those moments formed an odd contrast with the cold calculations I made here. The old me was now compressed into a different meta-spirit; knowledge and pop-culture references mixed together.

That mixture sometimes produced unexpectedly creative solutions. For example, by assigning burden of fate to one and rebellion to the other, I could see how to break and then remake the balance of Magnus and Lucareth's characters. People love stories; they mistake roles for truth. I would take advantage of that.

While I mapped out plans, I also tested my own limits. The quest for power was not only about accumulating external force. Inside my soul there was a desire to make up for things I couldn't accomplish in my past. Where would that desire end? In whose eyes would I justify myself? These weren't pleasant questions, but they needed answers.

Just then the door eased open, and a chill spread through the room with the sound of footsteps in the corridor. Rebecca entered with an authority you could feel without even trying to see it.

A single strand of sunlight fell through her white hair and broke the symmetry of the room. She was like the silence before a storm: outwardly calm, but warning that something would snap within.

"Will you be working until night, Leo?" she said, her voice soft but sharp. It wasn't a question so much as an observation.

I looked up. Rebecca's arrival neither surprised nor unnerved me. Her presence was like looking into a mirror: on the surface I saw myself, but in the depths other things emerged.

"Yes," I said. "Some accounts won't be finished easily. The territory I govern has increased more than fivefold through war."

"My help could be useful. After all, I received a stricter education in governance than you did. Now that I think of it, you never had formal training because you were illegitimate… and yet you accomplished so much. Even our father praised you."

Rebecca's words struck like the tip of a needle. Yet even as she drove that needle in, her face showed a strange balance of affection and severity. It was as if she wasn't belittling me but was reminding me of an uncomfortable truth.

"His praise must have surprised him as well," I said with a thin smile. "Because he always expected me to grow in his shadow. That I would be the one to step out into the light… that's fate's irony."

Rebecca stepped closer, her fingers touching the edge of the papers on the desk. Under her touch, the pages seemed to slide as if to obey. Her eyes were ice-clear, but they contained a curious warmth for me.

"I'll be visiting the Duchy soon… Why don't you come with me? It could be an opportunity to resolve things with our father."

Rebecca's remark weighed heavier than any map or sealed document on the table. Her invitation was not just a trip; it was a sign that a reckoning long postponed might finally occur.

"He never saw me as a problem to solve. I was only a shame to be ignored," I replied.

Rebecca took another step forward and sat on my lap without asking permission. Her scent was as sharp and refined as the shadow she left beside me. The corner of her mouth twitched.

"You still let his gaze define you, Leo. I think what defines you are your own choices. At the Duchy everyone will see: you are no longer the illegitimate child in the shadows, but a lord who expanded his lands by war."

At that moment, there was a knock at the door. Rebecca sprang from my lap and moved toward it. Her footsteps echoed down the corridor; the doorknocker sounded again. This time it was the rustle of envelopes brought by a numbered servant. The servant bowed gently and extended them; the seals were different colors.

One letter was stamped in navy blue ink, the other in deep red. The scent of the paper carried the chill of palace affairs and throne rooms.

"Please, my lord," the servant said.

I took the envelopes. My hands didn't tremble, but there was an excitement at my fingertips; the small folds and seals were where power plays often began. Rebecca drew back, curiosity and unexpected approval mingling on her face. I sat and chose the heavier navy-sealed envelope, opening it with due care.

The page was filled with stately royal handwriting:

Royal Palace - Letter from the Crown Prince

Esteemed Lord Leonardo Argenholt,

The skill and composure you have displayed before the Crown and our people, particularly in your recent engagements with Count Ronald, have been a credit to our honor. It is essential for the stability of the provinces; both for us and for the empire's borders, that a leader of such intelligence and discipline maintain order in the regions.

Therefore, on behalf of the Crown, I present you with an offer: we wish to append the title "Eques Consiliarius" to your official rank and place a cavalry detachment from the royal treasury under your command, appropriate to your combat experience. Additionally, direct support from the palace will be provided in the matters of intelligence and the shipment of munitions.

This offer will reflect your duty to uphold the empire's general security; your acceptance will enable us to project greater power in the region.

Signed, The Crown Prince - Heir Apparent

A strange chill rose in my chest as I read; "Eques Consiliarius." A fine title. Formal, prestigious, and binding. Being the prince's direct protégé also meant oversight. But that oversight opened doors: soldiers, time, legitimacy. Yet it also meant leaving Argenholt lands to go to the capital.

I could still feel the weight of the navy seal at my fingertips. I closed that envelope and opened the second, red-sealed letter.

Royal Palace - Letter from the Third Princess

Lord Leonardo Argenholt,

What we have heard and observed indicates that you are not merely a provincial lord but also a strategist fit for the new age. Your defeat of Count Ronald and the maintenance of military discipline are more than ordinary achievements; they are manifestations of exemplary resolve and sacrifice.

I extend to you, in the Crown's name, a formal offer: along with the title "Eques Consiliarius", I am prepared to lend my personal support in matters of diplomatic influence and regional governance. This title would include granting your local administrative and trade privileges, providing garrison support for border security, and facilitating the formal alliance of certain vassals who already cooperate with us.

Our alliance would ensure continuity not only in military matters but also on the political stage. Should you accept, I wish to meet you in person to finalize the details.

The Third Princess - Crown Representative

Damn it... with this letter everything became clearer. Because of the singular achievement I had won, I now found myself at the center of the throne's game. Both of them saw me as someone to be used to gain power, which was only natural. At this very moment, I must have been shining in the empire like a gem; it would be no surprise for anyone to say I had enormous potential.

What would I do now?

Would I refuse both the heir and the princess's offers?

Or perhaps it was time to tie a secure rope around my neck while I still could.