Of course, much depended on natural talent and innate aptitude. But magic was the most formidable gift that could exist in this world.
The magic wielded by truly great wizards—those whose names had been etched into the continent's history—surpassed even the most sophisticated imagination. Such power was capable of instantly reversing the course of a war, snatching victory from the jaws of inevitable defeat. It could command the weather itself and alter the courses of mighty rivers. People who encountered such overwhelming force felt a reverence so profound it was as though they stood before a deity made flesh.
_This is exactly the kind of power I need._
Only with such strength would she be able to free her beloved sister. Only then could she give Asella back everything that had been stolen from her—everything she had sacrificed for Mariel's sake.
"It's pathetic, really. Watching this helpless little orphan struggle so desperately to save her sister instead of saving herself."
The memory flashed unbidden through Mariel's mind—servants gossiping at Charts Manor, speaking their venom right in front of her as though she were deaf or invisible, completely shameless in their cruelty.
Mariel clenched her small fists with stubborn determination, their malicious taunts still echoing in her ears.
_Sister, you won't have to sacrifice your life for me anymore. Never again._
Mariel understood perfectly well that Asella had always placed her younger sister's well-being above everything else—above her own happiness, her own safety, her own future.
When she was very small, Mariel had simply loved having a kind older sister who treated her with such tenderness. Asella would give away anything she treasured without hesitation. All Mariel had to do was ask. Her sister wasn't even afraid to stand up to their stepfather on her behalf—that small, slender girl positioning herself in front of that huge, violent man, shielding Mariel with her own fragile body.
Only much later did Mariel come to understand what it had truly cost her older sister. What she had been forced to surrender. How much she had endured in silence.
That was why Mariel had worked so relentlessly to excel in her studies throughout the years they'd spent apart. She wanted to become strong—strong enough to help Asella finally escape that terrible prison.
Mariel gritted her teeth as thoughts of Philip, his mistress, and Anthony invaded her mind.
_That awful stepfather._
He would murder her sister without hesitation just so that fool Anthony could claim the Marquis's title.
Asella had been stripped of her rights, her title, even her surname. They had tormented her for all these years, transforming her life into a living nightmare. But as if that weren't enough, Philip had also sold her to a man Asella didn't know at all—a man whose very name inspired terror.
_And yet... my sister accepted this marriage. She agreed to wed a stranger without wanting to. Because of me. Because I fell into Philip's hands._
The corners of the girl's eyes gleamed with unshed tears, and she quickly wiped them away with the back of her hand.
---
The memory surfaced—the day she had returned to Charts Manor on the eve of the wedding.
"You've grown so much, Mariel."
The moment the girl saw that familiar face—the one she had missed so desperately for three long years—she immediately recognized how much pain her sister had endured in the interim. And yet it was equally clear that Asella refused to surrender, refused to break beneath the weight of it all.
The realization made Mariel's heart clench with anguish.
_If only my sister could build her own family. If only she could live happily._
She had prayed so sincerely that the man Asella married would be good and kind—someone who would cherish her sister more than anything in the world.
But that fragile dream had been shattered as well.
On Asella's wedding day, Mariel smiled brightly as she greeted the guests, maintaining the expected facade. But when the ceremony began, she could barely force herself to watch her older sister walking helplessly toward the flames of hell. The unfortunate woman looked as though she were being dragged to the gallows, her face pale and expressionless.
Grand Duke Calix Benvito.
The man who had thrown Philip a substantial fortune and purchased her sister as though she were nothing more than a beautiful, soulless doll.
Mariel hated him. Her heart shattered at the thought that from this day forward, her beloved sister would be bound to this terrible man—a man whose very presence made her stomach twist with revulsion.
She hated him. She couldn't forgive him. She couldn't forgive Philip. And she couldn't forgive herself, either.
"This marriage, blessed with His Majesty's approval..." The priest's voice rang out with solemn authority, and everyone gathered smiled with apparent joy.
But the truth was far darker.
Mariel couldn't even lift her head, weighed down by shame and crushing guilt. But when she finally managed to raise her eyes, summoning every ounce of courage...
Asella stood at the altar, her face drained of all color. She looked so utterly miserable it was painful to behold.
And beside her stood a man whose gaze never once strayed from his bride.
Hair as black as night itself. Eyes the color of fresh-spilled blood. This was undoubtedly the dreaded Calix Benvito.
And suddenly...
_Golden light?_
Mariel couldn't believe what she was seeing. If it had lasted only a fleeting instant, she might have dismissed it as a trick of her imagination. But no matter how many times she blinked and rubbed her eyes, nothing changed.
A faint golden stream of light shimmered around the Archduke's body as he gazed at Asella.
_What nonsense is this?_
Golden light symbolized affection—deep, genuine fondness. It was the same radiant color that had surrounded Asella when she'd run to embrace Mariel after years of separation.
Mariel could see it clearly. Her mind-reading ability wasn't yet perfected—all she could perceive were the colors of a person's emotions, and only the strongest ones at that. Emotions like love, hatred, and fear.
_No. This can't be right. I must be mistaken._
And yet, although the light surrounding the man was exceedingly faint, it was undeniably golden.
_I couldn't have gotten it wrong. It's my favorite color._
But her sister...
Asella, standing beside the Archduke, radiated a deep, dark crimson—the unmistakable color of fear bordering on absolute terror.
However, it took Mariel less than a single day to confirm that her initial observation had been accurate.
On the journey to the duchy, when they were attacked by monsters, Mariel watched the Archduke scoop her sister into his arms and carry her toward the safety of the fortified carriages. In that moment, a stronger golden stream emanated from him—brighter, more defined.
And Asella's dark crimson aura had lightened, if only slightly.
_Really..._
From that moment forward, Mariel began noticing something extraordinary.
Throughout the week-long journey, she peered outside at every available opportunity, her young eyes ablaze with curiosity. Her entire focus remained fixed on Grand Duke Calix Benvito.
There were always people surrounding the Archduke—elite guardsmen and representatives from ancient dynasties who had served House Benvito for centuries, bound by knightly oaths of loyalty. The faithful Raizen never left his liege's side.
It wasn't easy to observe the Grand Duke's emotional light. He wasn't a particularly expressive man, his feelings carefully guarded. Yet occasionally, she would catch a glimpse of that golden shimmer. And it appeared without fail whenever the Prince looked at her sister.
Asella remained inside the carriage for most of the journey. But when she occasionally stepped outside to take some fresh air, Calix would watch her quietly from a distance. And each time, that golden current hovered around him—so faint and indistinct that it was difficult to perceive among the chaos of other emotional currents swirling through the traveling party.
_This is what happens when a person is unaware of their own feelings._
Her sister, however, remained deeply terrified of His Highness. And *that* worried Mariel most of all.
Would the Archduke be able to win Asella's trust? Her affection?
Mariel hadn't yet formulated a complete plan. But one thing was undeniable: he harbored positive feelings for her sister. That much was clear.
And that was very, *very* good for Asella's future.
Mariel decided she would take full advantage of this unexpected gift. For her sister's sake.
---
Her thoughts were interrupted by another soft knock at the door. Mariel sprang from her bed and admitted the maid into the room.
"Did you find out?"
"Yes, young lady. His Highness is currently..."
Having received the information, Mariel issued another command, her young voice taking on an eerie authority.
"You will conceal me beneath your skirts and escort me to that location."
"Yes, young lady."
A short while later, Mariel slipped from her room, hidden completely beneath the maid's voluminous skirts. The guards stationed outside Mariel and Asella's chambers remained completely unaware.
At first, the girl had considered using her manipulation powers directly on the guards themselves. But she'd abandoned that approach—there were simply too many of them. If even a single one broke free of her control, the entire plan would collapse.
"How is the young lady?"
"She's sleeping soundly."
"Very good. Good night to you as well."
The guards weren't permitted to enter the bedroom without explicit permission, so they shouldn't notice Mariel's absence.
As they navigated the wide corridors and staircases, they occasionally encountered other servants. But the staff, preoccupied with their own duties, paid little attention to a solitary maid half-obscured in the dim glow of night.
"Here we are."
They had reached a door that opened directly into the garden.
Mariel smiled brightly and nodded to the maid.
"Thank you for your service. Now go to bed."
"Yes, young lady."
Now all Mariel had to do was sever her control. Once the maid fell asleep, she would awaken with no memory of anything beyond the moment she'd tucked the girl beneath the blankets. The same would be true of the person from whom she'd learned the Archduke's whereabouts.
"Good night, Miss Mariel."
After exchanging farewells, Mariel watched until the maid's retreating figure vanished completely down the corridor. Then she turned toward the garden, her eyes blazing with anticipation.
_Well then. Let's begin._
---
## — The Greenhouse —
Mariel stepped carefully into the night garden.
The space was remarkably quiet, disturbed only by the occasional chirp of crickets and the soft rustling of nocturnal insects. She moved silently across the dew-dampened grass, savoring the fragrance of night-blooming flowers.
After a short walk, Mariel paused, noticing moonlight reflecting off sparkling glass panes ahead. She had finally reached the greenhouse.
"Who's there?"
Before the girl could even touch the door handle, the sharp tip of a sword pressed against her chest.
Calix, having sensed her presence, had opened the door himself—and he'd already drawn his weapon. The deadly blade glinted in the pale rays of moonlight filtering through the trees.
In an instant, every hair on Mariel's head stood on end.
"Your Highness!" Her voice emerged small and frightened. "You're scaring me!"
Calix froze, peering into the darkness beyond the doorway.
Silver hair reflecting moonlight like spun silk. Eyes as clear and bright as polished crystal.
For some inexplicable reason, the name *Asella* came immediately to mind. The frightened face of a woman appeared unbidden before his eyes—a woman unable to breathe properly beneath the weight of his wrath.
He sheathed his weapon abruptly.
"I didn't expect to see you here." He raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing wandering the gardens at this hour?"
"I lost a piece of jewelry. I think I dropped it somewhere in the garden earlier."
"And how, exactly, did the young lady reach the garden on her own?" Calix regarded her sternly. "Where are your guards?"
The girl calmly pretended to discover the brooch in the grass—a piece she had, in fact, been clutching in her palm the entire time.
"It's alright! I found it."
One advantage of childhood: sometimes no one expects rationality from a child's actions. Deciding this was merely a harmless prank, Calix's expression softened somewhat.
Mariel wasted no time pressing her advantage.
"I see Your Highness has also come to enjoy the greenhouse. Just recently, I was playing here with my sister."