## Irena's Royal Summons
"If you succeed, you might become Queen," the Duke of Vermont said, his face radiant with pride.
"Queen?" Irena's eyes widened. "What do you mean, Father?"
"King Oberon sent an invitation to the royal ball."
---
Large estate festivals were held throughout Oberon every one to two weeks. The grandest of all was held in the capital, where the royal castle stood. Many citizens wished to attend and witness the kingdom's most spectacular celebrations.
Most people participated in festivals held near their respective lords' castles. Because festivals were held even in regions where autumn held no seasonal meaning—like warm Rowan—and timing varied between territories, there was nearly a month's difference between the earliest and latest festivals.
"He's inviting me to his birthday ball?" Irena asked, puzzled.
For governance and diplomacy, major events were essential. But birthdays were fixed, unavoidable—events no one could manipulate. King Oberon's birthday occurred a month after the capital's fall festival, followed by the New Year's ball another month and a half later. After these major events, the kingdom entered a new year.
"Vermont has never been active in the capital's social scene," Irena mused aloud.
It was Vermont's longstanding tradition. The Duke's daughters never attended the capital's debutante balls or social events. Not even the New Year's Ball, where one greeted the King and pledged allegiance.
Vermont existed within Oberon's framework but didn't swear true fealty to King Oberon. They refused to pay land taxes—a clear statement of their semi-autonomous status. The Duke of Vermont was the North's true ruler.
The fact that a young, upstart like Kaian—mere days old in power—had threatened Vermont during the drought wounded the Duke's pride profoundly.
The Duke's smile was so broad that his gold molars gleamed. "Do you know how long it's been since King Oberon extended a formal invitation to Vermont for a ball?"
"How long?"
"This is the first time in history."
His joy was unmistakable. Such an unprecedented event carried obvious significance.
"The invitation specifies that I attend with the Duchess and the Princess," he continued.
Irena frowned. "Really?"
The Duke held King Oberon in high regard, often praising him as an extraordinary monarch. But Irena found him rather trivial—yet formidable. The fact that the invitation referred to her as "Princess" suggested calculated intention.
The Duke's laughter was hearty. "Perhaps I could make the King my son-in-law!"
"Father, nothing is certain yet."
"Are you unaware of how unusual it is for the King to issue such direct commands?" he replied. "Nobles typically speak in roundabout ways to avoid future complications."
He was right. Yet from the telegram's wording, the King seemed genuinely interested in Irena—interested enough to break tradition.
*Why does King Oberon want me?* Irena wondered. *I've lived my entire life in Vermont. This is my first escape southward, and only because of Claudel. We've never even met.*
Since witnessing Kaian and Claudel together, her thoughts had been chaotic.
*Perhaps arranged marriage isn't entirely terrible.*
---
Irena had lived in a perfect world—one her father had carefully constructed around her. She was bright, happy, a favored daughter. Even losing her husband hadn't cast a shadow on her existence. She simply said "yes" and moved forward.
But seeing Claudel in Kaian's gaze, she'd felt an absence for the first time in her life.
Something she'd never possessed: a husband's genuine affection. The passion that accompanied real love.
For the first time, Irena wondered what it might feel like to have someone who truly cared.
*If the King is interested, perhaps this is an opportunity.* She thought of King Oberon as a potential connection—someone to fill the emptiness that had suddenly opened inside her.
*And politically, this could strengthen Valmonde's position. If I married the King, Valmonde wouldn't just exist within Oberon's framework—we'd become truly integrated.*
The Duke's voice pulled her from her thoughts. "His Majesty finally recognizes us. You'll find no better bride in the entire kingdom."
"Did you come here personally to tell me?" Irena asked.
"He sent a physical invitation—from the King himself!" The Duke's satisfaction was unconcealed. Royal telegrams bore golden seals of authority; receiving a handwritten invitation held special significance.
"I'll prepare a residence in the capital," he continued. "You'll stay there until the ball. We need to arrange jewelry and dresses that leave nothing to chance. The King will see only perfection."
"Yes, Father."
But as when leaving for Rowan Castle, Irena couldn't bring herself to say, "I'm excited" or "I look forward to it."
---
## Claudel's Insecurity
"Look! I was right, wasn't I?" Hannah declared triumphantly, hands on her hips.
Claudel admitted defeat. "Yes. I lost."
Hannah laughed heartily.
The memory spiraled backward—before Irena's visit.
*What if Kaian fell in love with Irena?* The worry had consumed Claudel.
When she'd confessed this to Hannah, her maid had been flabbergasted. The concern seemed ridiculous to her.
"Then let's make a wager," Hannah had suggested.
"A wager about what?"
"Whether the Lord falls in love with Lady Irena or not. I think if he sees her, he'll fall for her immediately. You don't."
The loser had agreed to grant the winner's wish.
In truth, Claudel had hoped to lose—losing meant Kaian wouldn't be drawn to Irena. Every night, she'd prayed Hannah would win the bet.
Even in victory, Claudel felt no joy.
"What wish do you want?" Claudel asked now.
"Tell me quickly," Hannah teased. "They say it's better to know your fate swiftly."
"No. I'll keep it precious and mysterious. I'll torment you with suspense until you beg me to reveal it!"
Claudel laughed along with Hannah, but bitterness lodged in her throat.
---
Before Irena's visit, Claudel had viewed herself as a transparent, insignificant figure compared to her dazzling sister. But after Rowan Castle, as Hannah had predicted, Kaian showed Irena no particular interest—indeed, he seemed indifferent to her entirely.
Yet indifference to Irena wasn't the same as interest in Claudel.
*I want his genuine affection. I want him to like me.*
But she couldn't voice this need. Something told her Kaian wouldn't admit to such feelings easily.
He was forthright in temperament—impatient, decisive, expressing desires without hesitation. This young, noble lord had never experienced the frustrations of an uncertain life. He controlled everything around him with an iron will.
Even between husband and wife, Claudel couldn't refuse him. When Kaian desired her, she came to him wearing only a gifted necklace, her body bare against his. He commanded her completely, and resistance seemed impossible against his overwhelming presence.
Yet he'd never once said he liked her.
*But surely a man who spends such fortune maintaining my dignity has some deeper reason,* she thought. *These gestures—would they be given to any wife?*
She doubted it. The care seemed specific to her.
*I'm not happy about that uncertainty.*
One night, when Kaian was away hunting, he'd told her to behave herself. Those simple words had filled her with such joy—they'd suggested hope, progress toward winning his heart.
*I'm getting closer to making him love me. I have to believe that.*
Meanwhile, trembling with anxiety, Claudel sent another telegram to the Duke of Vermont.
It had been lovely to have her sister visit—but she didn't want her uncle's hidden intentions materializing here.
*Please. Let me stay like this.*
Kaian had restored her to health with his own resources. Why couldn't the Duke do the same? Why this implicit demand for her to spy, to gather information?
Still, Claudel remembered her late father's trust in his brother. In his will, Evan had expressed regret and asked the Duke to raise his daughter well.
She spoke to Hannah, hiding her depression. "If you don't tell me your wish soon, it will be as though it never happened."
"What should I wish for? Something I can boast about for generations?" Hannah laughed, considering. "It has to be something you can actually do."
---
## Kaian's Discovery
Kaian stood outside the bedroom door, listening to the young women's laughter. His expression was cold, his mind focused on what he'd just received.
Claudel sent telegrams to Valmonde constantly through her maid. But Kaian intercepted every single one—he had people planted in the message relay system.
The recent telegram's contents were damning:
*"Irena departs. I'm trying to win my husband's heart. If you need anything, let me know. I can do it well."*
Kaian's jaw clenched.
The previous messages had made one fact painfully clear.
"You came here as a spy," he said coldly to himself, "not as my wife."
The revelation crystallized something he'd been avoiding: Claudel's loyalty was divided. Her uncle had sent her to Rowan not just as a bride, but as an intelligence asset. Every moment she spent with Kaian, she was gathering information.
And worse—she was reporting on his wife's movements, her recovery, her status.
*How long has this been happening?*
Kaian's hands clenched into fists.
He'd healed her from Herzol. He'd hired the kingdom's most prestigious seamstress. He'd given her jewelry, dresses, his constant attention.
And all the while, she was betraying him to Vermont.
His expression darkened as he listened to Hannah's infectious laughter beyond the door—unaware that her beloved mistress had been playing a dangerous double game.
---