I used to know a lot of people who loved running. Melissa was one of them. Running, for her, meant peace: she craved it when she was overwhelmed, and she looked forward to vacations because it meant she got more free time to run. She loved it so much and seemed so happy when she did it.

I wasn’t much of a runner myself, at least not long distance, but her enthusiasm had led me to occasionally think:

Maybe I should try running! It can’t be that bad, right?

And then I had decided to put on my running shoes – which I usually only wore to Target and the grocery store —, accompanied her to the park one morning and started putting one foot in front of the other.

It usually took approximately 90 seconds for me to realize that jogging is the worst thing ever, a travesty that goes against thousands of years of human evolution. I looked at my running-loving sister and felt like I was staring into madness personified.

What made it even worse was that jogging was just so… so goddamn boring.

Where was I running to? What was I running from? What was the point of this run?!?

Seriously! It was ‘left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot’ over and over and over and over. The boredom of running made me focus on the pain it caused. I couldn’t ignore the fire that spread through my lungs, my muscles aching, or my breath shortening to the point of suffocation.

 In volley or rock-climbing, I could distract myself from my straining muscles and wheezing breath by focusing on competition, or on the top that I was trying to reach. But with running, there was nothing to keep me from obsessing over how much the whole thing hurt.

But that was fine. I was free to stop whenever, there weren’t really any stakes when I convinced myself that running with Melissa was a good idea.

Now, I have been running for only ten minutes and my burning lungs were about to make their way out of my body along with the content of my stomach. I hated this with the intensity of 2 burning suns but I couldn’t stop.

Kabal, the duke’s lackey, was on the sides, watching me and waiting for me to stop running, to tell him I couldn’t do it and return to my room.

When the duke had finally accepted to let me train, I had been ecstatic, I had thought I could finally take my fate into my own hands instead of sitting around and hoping that I wouldn’t end up like the other Hazel. I would be able to acquire the tools to defend myself no matter what the plot had in store for me.

A few days later, I had met with Sir Kabal again. He had already been involved in my learning archery and from what I understood, would be my instructor as I learned how to wield a sword.

Kabal was built like a mountain. From my perspective, he had the height of a giant, broad shoulders and a muscular, imposing frame. As the head of one of the several knight’s sections of the estate, the uniform he wore gave his already commending appearance an added gravity. Despite the first impression I had had of him, he had turned out to be a really nice guy.

However, my opinion was about to change if he kept that stupid knowing smile on his stupid face.

As I was staggering around the court, attempting to finish my 5^th lap out of 10 without dying of suffocation or dehydration, I could hear Kabal’s voice in the background:

“You do not have to keep going if it is too hard Lady Hazel! I will understand if you prefer giving up.”

Fuck you! You, scheming jerk.

Where was that understanding when I asked you to take it easy on me.

His cheery tone got on my nerve more than anything. I knew that the duke put him to the task of dissuading me from continuing this training.

Their mission was not to help me slowly build stamina and strength, they wanted to scar me, to make sure that I was so traumatized by this first session that I wouldn’t even dream of trying to wield a sword again.

How manipulative.

The duke didn’t have the gall to refuse my request directly, so he put his subordinate to the task of torturing me until I gave up on my own.

 Fuck you too, Elias.

As I ran, determined to finish this, I cursed Kabal and Elias over and over again. I used my burgeoning anger as fuel for my muscles.

Haron suddenly zoomed past me for the 4^th time. He had twice as many laps to run as I did but I was pretty sure he would finish his before me.

I was right. When I finally reach the end of my last lap, I felt my body collapsed on the ground. I was exhausted, dizzy, and ready to die if I used any more of my energy.

While I was dry heaving on the ground, Haron was, once again, jumping around like a hyperactive child on Halloween night.

I raised my head a little, away from my own spit, and came face to face with Kabal’s shoes. I felt my body being lifted in the air, unceremoniously but still somewhat gently. Kabal was standing right in front of me with a semi worried expression.

“Lady Hazel, you do not have to push yourself so hard. You should sit on the sides and rest, hm?”

“Ha! Wouldn’t you like that!” I replied reproachfully. “Don’t even think I don’t know what you and the duke are up to. I won’t give up.”

“Your spirit is commendable, but your body is still too weak for this.”

Still using his magic, he put me back down on the ground, gently enough that I could prepare my legs to support my body again.

“Is this the best excuse you can find? You should just admit that you are not a good teacher.” I challenged.

Kabal crossed his arms defensively and narrowed his eyes.

Feeling that I actually hit a nerve, I kept going.

“I mean, I picked up archery fairly easily thanks to Sir Cinder, so maybe I should go to him and ask him to teach me swordsmanship.”

Although he also participated in teaching me archery, Cinder had been my official teacher since he was known to be a gifted archer.

“Why would you go to him?!” Kabal asked offended. He took great pride in his swordsmanship and knew he was better than Cinder in that field. He wouldn’t take it well if anyone would rather learn it from Cinder rather than from him. “I am, by far, the best swordsman you could find in this estate! Scratch that, in the South.”

“I don’t know… You do not seem particularly good at that today.” I replied, questioning his competence once again with a fake pensive look on my face. “Maybe you are just not good with weak people like me. Cinder would be a better choice for someone like me.”

I then turned around and started walking away, ignoring the soreness that had taken over my entire body.

I was trying to catch a huge fish, I couldn’t show any weakness or else it wouldn’t bite the bait.

“Sir Cinder!!” I called to the knight who was minding his own business on the other side of the court.

He turned to me when he heard my voice and started walking in my direction.

“Lady Hazel.” He greeted. “What can I do for you?”

“Can teach me how to wield a sword?”

Cinder became visibly uneasy. His questioning gaze move from my face to Kabal who was still sulking behind me. Through squinted suspicious eyes, I observed their interaction.

Is he in on their plan?

“Lady Hazel… It is a bit…”

“You don’t want to?” I whipped out the Pout™.

I could almost see my cuteness striking him directly in the heart.

“Your father has ordered me to take care of your training for the moment, Lady Hazel. No matter what your desires may be, you cannot overturn his orders.” Kabal, who had stayed silent up until now, replied harshly.

“Maybe I should talk to him then.” I threw back at him, making sure that the insinuation that I would tattle was not well hidden.

“Go ahead.” He challenged, a smirk growing on his mouth as he tilted his head to the side.

Before, he had always made sure his face was at the same level as mine when he talked to me. He would either kneel or lift me up with his magic. However, now, he was standing straight, towering over me with his full height as he looked down to me. He was showing that he would not budge.

“Ok fine, I won’t tattle.” I conceded, knowing full well I was only bluffing. “But I really want to learn and I will not give up no matter how much you try to make me.”

Kabal and Cinder smiled in unison, seemingly appreciative of my determination.

“Let us see how long you last then.” Kabal replied with a menacing grin, while Cinder sent me sympathetic smile.

 

---

 

Kodran was a game of strategy-a game of calculated risks and great rewards. One had to be smart in how they placed their pieces and be willing to make smart sacrifices if they wanted to win. The rules and board’s design reminded me of chess.

It was something like a game of war but without the real bloodshed. At least, that was how Maeve explained it to me. Although I found her comparison a little exaggerated, I could see where she was coming from. You could get destroyed if your first move was wrong.

The first time we played, I didn’t take it seriously. I wasn’t particularly pleased that I had to spend more time than necessary with that woman.

When she re-explained the rules of the game to me, I barely paid any attention, silently sulking in my chair. I paid even less attention to my moves.

I moved my pawns according to the rules but without thought or strategy. And for every thoughtless move I made, she punished me severely, wiping out every single one of my pawns leaving me with only one.

Despite it being clear, to everyone involved, she had won and there was nothing I could do about it anymore, instead of ending the game in one swift move, she played with me. She made me run around aimlessly as she took pleasure chasing me around, every time almost ending it but withdrawing her attack. She circled around me like a hyena playing with its food.

A game that could have ended in less than 10 minutes lasted 30.

As she tortured my pawns in the game, her taunts tortured my ears endlessly.

“And here I thought you had grown a brain. It seems I was wrong. Your stupidity is still as astounding as ever.” Comments such as these were among her repertoire of insults and jabs.

I wanted to make her swallow every single pawn on the board and choke her with her own hair.

But at the same time, the last 30 minutes had sucked out all of my energy, I did not have the strength – or let’s be honest, the courage – to actually choke her, nor did I want to keep putting up with her bullshit.

I plucked her pawn from the board and made it topple mine, finally ending this unnecessarily long game.

“You are right. I am stupid. My stupidity has wasted your time. Let us stop here for fear I waste more of it.” I replied with very thinly veiled sarcasm and snark.

I started to get up, fully intending on leaving the room whether she allowed it or not. That woman was not even worth the acting skills I displayed to stay agreeable in her presence.

“Sit down.”

I stopped on my out. I stopped but did not obey, I didn’t even turn around.

“I said sit down.” She repeats, her tone as calm as ever.

The lack of anger in her voice made me shiver a little. I could guess she was angered by my boldness. Knowing her, it would be weird if she wasn’t. But her being calm, even more so than before, screamed trouble for me.

Still. My own stubbornness and the pride that fed it refused to let me bow down to her today. My body stayed still and my back, that was still facing her, straightened.

“Retorting and storming off will not erase your utter defeat. I will give you a chance to take this seriously and prove to me that you have a modicum of intelligence. Sit. Down.”

I was still facing the door but I could hear the thump of the pawns hitting the board as she placed them back in their original place.

I reluctantly turned around, glaring.

The challenge her words suggested tugged at my pride. Even though I was standing, she was looking down on me. Her relaxed pose and the way her half-lidded gaze was barely on me showed how little care she had for my dissatisfaction.

My teeth grinded against each other and both of my hands clenched into tight fists.

I wanted to make her lose her composure. She, who always seemed in control of the situation, peering at the rest of world from her high horse like people looked at ants under their feet, with a self-satisfied contemptuous sense of superiority. I wanted to take her down to my level and see how she coped when the tables were turned on her.

This growing desire led me to return to my seat with my best impression of I’m doing this but not because you told me to.

I was ready to literally beat her at her own game.

It was not that I had anything to prove… not at all.

Whether she thought I was dumb or not did not matter. Her opinion was really of very little importance. But since she thought she was so smart just because she was good at this world’s version of chess, it was my duty to show her how wrong she was.

I will make you cry and drink your tears, you pompous shrew.

 

Games after games, the results were the same, I was viciously defeated by Maeve. But the more games we played the more interested I was in the actual strategy.

I still wanted to humiliate her by beating her ass but it soon became a background goal,  I also learned to find the game itself very stimulating and frustrating at the same time. Stimulating because I grew to love devising strategies and ploys to make Maeve bite the dust, but frustrating because she beat me every game.

Much to my dismay, Maeve it took upon herself to offer some advice every time she obliterated me.

“Your strategy is too straightforward.”

“Even a toddler could get through your defenses.”

“Are you purposefully playing badly again? Get yourself together.”

So much for mother-daughter time. I’d much rather we spend it on the training court. There, I was pretty sure the roles would be reversed.

 

---

 

“Faster Lady Hazel! Lift your legs more.” Kabal shouted from his chair. “What you are doing cannot even be considered running.”

“Jerk.” I muttered with the few whiffs of breath I had left.

I wasn’t running per se, it was more wobbling than running but I was moving forward so it counted.

The first session had not been the end of my torture. The only change was that Kabal seemed particularly interested invested in making me reach my limits. Even Cinder, who had been his foil and the only person somewhat able to temper him, had difficulties making him go easy on me.

I was in the middle of my last lap but I already felt like I was dying. I could almost see the light of heaven. I blanked for the remainder of the lap but my legs kept pushing forward.

As soon I reached the finish line, my body lost even the strength to stay up, I collapsed on the floor, a sweating coughing mess. I must have look pitiful.

Kabal clapped. “I thought doubling your laps would make you give up but you are still here. I have to admit, Lady Hazel, I am impressed.” The amusement I could hear in his voice fueled my rage.

Shut the fuck up!

“It is a shame the lord does not want you to fight.” He finally admitted, drawing my attention again. “Someone as determined as you would have made a fine knight.”

I look at him with wide pleading eyes.

“Do not look at me like that.” He defended. “There is nothing I can do to convince him.

“Why is he that hostile to me learning to defend myself?” I asked before downing the glass of water Sophie handed to me.

Ignoring my question, he offered me a piece of advice, “You should ask your mother.”

“The Duchess?”

“Yep. She might be your best bet.”

“I don’t know about that… She might just add more etiquette lessons to my schedule to rid me of the desire to act so unruly.”

“Believe it or not, your mother was a force to reckon. She could probably still beat our asses if she wanted to.”

“Are you sure you did not have a collective hallucination? The sun tends to hit pretty strongly in the south. It could have… altered your brain chemicals or something.”

“Is it really that hard to believe?”

“Yeah… kinda. I have only ever seen her sitting, glaring at the rest of the world and insulting people.”

 “Yeah, I remember her being as lethal with her words as she was with her sword and fire.” He laughed.

 

---

 

There came a point where Maeve and I played Kodran everyday.

And I lost everyday.

No matter the strategy I employed, she somehow always regained the upper hand.

“Why do I keep losing?!?” I exclaimed as I finally reached peek-frustration after one more defeat.

“You are not aggressive enough.” She replied dismissively while toppling one more of my pieces.

“I am doing my best. It’s not my fault if you have more experience than I do.”

This was essentially a David-against-Goliath fight. She probably played this game since she was Hazel’s age and I just started. No matter how aggressive I was, she would most likely always get the upper hand.

“Your experience or lack-there-of is not the problem. You are too… soft.” She said the word soft like it was a slur. “To win, in this game and in life in general, you have to be ruthless. You have to break your opponent, completely.”

Once more, I only had one pawn left on the board, but she refused to put an end to the game. Using only a couple of pawns, she circled mine like a vulture waiting for their prey to be totally exhausted before pouncing and tearing it apart.

 Instead of being angered as I usually would, her words kept repeating in my head.

You have to be ruthless. You have to break your opponent, completely.

“Is that why we’re doing this? So you can break me?” I asked with a confusing mixture of understanding and disgust.

She remained silent for a moment, her hand hovering over her pawn as though she was debating what to do with it.

When I finally thought she would topple my piece, she moved it further away, leaving me some breathing room.

“Sooner or later, you will have to learn that the world is not a soft place.”

How is that related to the question I asked you, though?

“The world is like a cat who has cornered a mouse. It will toy with you for a while. All it has to do is bite down and finally release you from the torture it puts you through. But it does not. Instead it taunts you, wears you down, lets you escape a little before pulling you back. Being soft is a crime for which the world shows little pity. It does not care for your sensibilities or your compassion. It will crush them gleefully.”

I remained silent.

Was that the lesson she wanted to teach me through these games?

Although her bleak description of the world spoke to the cynic in me, I could not completely agree with her no-good-deed-goes-unpunished rhetoric. It was essentially flawed because it didn’t take individual actions into account.

“But the world does not act on its own though. It is not some sort of sentient entity that punishes the good and rewards the bad. The only reason the world is cruel is because the people who inhabit it are even worse. If more people were good, the world would also be a better place.” I finally replied .

“How naïve of you.”

“I don’t think it’s naïve, it is just…logical. People’s actions affect the world they live in. The actions of nobles, in particular, have greater ramification on unsuspecting commoners, who in turn affect other commoners.”

“…”

I stopped talking, waiting to see what snarky remark she was going to serve me next. But she didn’t say anything, she stared back at me as though indicating me to elaborate. So I did.

“It is not the world that is a cruel sadistic cat, it is the people in power who toy with, torture, taunt and wear down those who are weaker than them. Being soft is not a flaw in itself, it only becomes one when the people who affect the world are scumbags.” I continued animatedly, without even realizing that I cursed in front of her.

If the events of the game were to become reality in 7 years, I had to cling even tighter to this way of thinking instead of letting her turn me into a mini Maeve like she would have done her own daughter. Based on the events of the game, being nice, or at least decent, was the currency of this tit-for-tat world in which if you did something bad, karma made sure to bite you back in the ass sooner rather than later.

“It does not matter if it is the world or the people who are cruel. The origin is insignificant. What is important for you to remember is that if you do not become stronger and smarter, you will be crushed over and over again. By me, in Kodran, and by the people you mentioned, in real life.”

 She was essentially telling me to get better at this or die.

What a scary woman.

Maeve regarded me for a long moment.

"You are nervous."

It was a statement, not a question. I swallowed hard.

"I'm not."

"You are. You always lift your chin like that when you are nervous," Maeve said. "You ought to correct that or soon everyone will be able to tell."

As I realized what I was doing, I quickly lowered my chin, looking straight at her.

It was a reflex this body had kept from the other Hazel. I found myself doing it more and more as I settled more comfortably in her body.

I was actually surprised the Duchess spent enough time with her daughter to notice something as small as this. But then again, she was an evil mastermind so I shouldn’t be surprised.

"Good." She said, satisfied to see me correcting my posture. “I have heard you intend to learn swordsmanship.”

I shouldn’t be surprised she knew about that but I was. Kabal had told me to go to her for help but I hadn’t, I doubted both her ability and willingness to help me.

“Yes. But Father seems quite hostile to the idea.” I complained. Just thinking about how childish he was being pissed me off.

“I will talk to him.”

“Huh?”

Did she just say what I think she said?

“I am offering you my help. Make sure not to disappoint me.”

“… Thank you…”

I was still confused but I would take what help I could.

I can’t believe Kabal was right.

 

***************

"You are improving," the Duchess said after my latest defeat. "Defeating you has become much more enjoyable."

We have been playing for a couple of months now and I got considerably better.

I still lost. Just more slowly.

But since I started to understand what was going on in her mind, I could avoid getting bullied and pushed into a corner by her strategy.

She was the kind of person who wanted to crush her opponent to the point that even if she didn’t finish them straight away, she made sure her opponent didn’t even have the energy, the means or even the will to get back up again.

And since I was her opponent at the moment, I was currently the one she wanted to break.

I felt like we weren’t just playing Kodran, she was trying to bend my mind to her will. Agressively.

I sighed, plucking one of the extra pieces from my side. It was the Empress piece. It had a crack on its side. She wondered why Maeve even kept the piece when it was damaged. "I am happy to see that my misery brings you great joy.”

Maeve regarded her for a long moment. There was a coldness in her eyes. A warning. I knew I had used up all of Maeve’s patience for the day. But I did not lift my chin this time. I kept my gaze steady.

I will not be afraid. I have no need to fear her.

"Beating someone who can actually put up a fight bring greater satisfaction." She wasn’t smiling but it was the softest look I had ever seen on her face. "You might understand it if you ever manage to win against me."

Was that a praise?

That was probably the closest thing to a compliment I was going to get from this woman.

Not great for a praise but I’ll take it.

This game ended with her victory once again but I felt better about it. I had lost a little bit less pathetically.

"You may leave," Maeve said flatly. "We will resume tomorrow."

I stood up and inclined her head.

"Mother."

Calling her that felt weird, it didn’t sound right. I wanted to take it back as soon as it came out of my mouth.

I left as soon as I could as though it would make the both of us forget what I just called her.

 

---

 

Lian shifted from one foot to the other, uneasy. It was the first time since the day he had been hired that he was summoned to this study. 

Hopefully I am not getting fired… or killed…

“How may I be of help, your grace?” He asked as he stood in front of his employer.

Without offering him a seat or refreshments, Maeve asked, “How is my daughter doing?”

Lian was surprised she called him to ask about Hazel. Surprised, because she had always preferred receiving written reports of the young miss’ progression rather than discussing it face to face. Relieved, because he wasn't in trouble. When the duchess’ aide had come to fetch him after his time with the young miss, he had sweated profusely and feared for both his job and life.

“She is doing very well. We are done with basic lessons and have moved on to advanced ones.”

“Good. From now on your lessons will be held only in the morning.”

Lian beamed, he was genuinely happy for Hazel. She had always been a sensitive child and despite the tantrums she used to throw, he always knew she was a good child. Her memory loss seemed to have brought that goodness out of her along with the intellectual potential he knew she had.

“Understood.”

However, his good mood progressively faded as an uncomfortable silence settled in the study. He was growing increasingly more uncomfortable. The duchess was not speaking but she had not dismissed him. He was just standing there, waiting for her to lift her eyes from the paper she was writing on.

“Mister Groff.” She called causing his spine to immediately straighten up.

“Y-Yes?”

“Are you proficient in political strategy and debate?”

“They are not my field of expertise but I can recommend a trustworthy colleague.”

“Find someone who can be available 3 times a week and have them sent to the estate as soon as possible.”

Before he could respond, someone knocked on the door, interrupting him.

“Come in.”

Jean entered the room.

“My Lady… Oh… I apologize for the interruption…”

“Is it important?”

“Yes, very urgent.”

“Mr Groff, you will have to excuse us. Let us continue this conversation at a later date.”

“Of course my lady.”

Lian Groff scurried out of the room as soon as she dismissed him.

“Speak.”

“Count Heindel has come to the mansion. He demands an audience with you, my Lady.”

“Did he send word of this visit without me knowing?”

“No, he did not.”

How impudent of him to impose his presence on a higher ranked noble without prior notice.

Maeve had not seen her father in years. He had not visited when she had given birth to the twins. He had simply sent his best wishes and had not so subtly demanded that she fulfilled her duty as his daughter and asked her husband to help the Heindel territory with its crop crisis.

At first, she had wanted to be filial and keep her connections with the count. She had went to Elias and had asked him to support her eldest brother’s agricultural plan. Zahar had sent wheat, corn and potatoes to help cope with the immediate crisis.

But when her brother’s plan had failed, and her father had been once again disappointed with his eldest son, he had turned to his competent daughter and her wealthy husband for help. Without even thanking her for the help she brought them, he requested for more.

After that she had stopped answering his letters. She had no interest in cleaning after her brother or being the Heindel’s cash-cow.

“Let him in.  And bring us wine.”

She would need it if she had to deal with her father.

The last time they had talked face to face was at her wedding. And as he gave her away to her husband, he had congratulated himself for the wise decision he made when he accepted the Elias’ proposal.

He had remarked that she would be much more useful as the lady of the Vedar house than as the heir of Count Heindel.

Usefulness.

That was what had always mattered to him. That was what he had taught her from a very young age. That was the principle through which the Heindel family built their relationships.

It was rather simple: she had been useful while her 2 brothers had not. That was the reason why he had chosen her as his heir.

She had become even more useful when Elias Vedar had shown interest in her.

As soon as their engagement was finalized, her father had encouraged her to give up swordsmanship and hone her more ladylike skills.

She, who had been raised to lead and rule was told to eliminate any aggressive impulse.

“You must be a blossom floating along the surface of a stream. Your hands are not tools, they are ornaments on the ends of your arms”, her new teachers had told her.

She had been encouraged to become one of those vapid girls she had felt contempt for.

She had been the perfect heir to her father: powerful, smart and skilled at everything she was asked to do. But when someone with a higher status had come into the picture and had demanded that she be his, she had been forced to forgo all of her learnings, she had had to change her entire identity as the future ruler of a territory and perform the role of the perfect wife.

Elias had wanted to possess a woman whose strength and upbringing mirrored his and he got her. He got the perfect duchess and the perfect heir.

Being a duchess was certainly a rise in status compared to a mere countess. And Elias was not a bad husband either, he made use of her talents and intelligence. He often consulted her on her opinion and followed through on them. Their conversations were a far cry from the empty meaningless yapping that ladies were usually taught.

He valued her.

She was not blind to his affection either.

She knew he had been in love with her since he first saw her. His eyes that were harsh and indifferent when dealing with others sparkled with intensity and longing when set on her.

She was aware that he had been waiting for her to return his feelings for the 10 years they had been married.

But she could not bring herself to do so.

The power she had in the household came from him. It was with his implicit permission that she was able to freely and proudly order the mansion’s staff around. It was because of his affection that she could make use of her status in social circles.

Without it, as his wife, she was nothing.

The talents she was praised for as a student were eclipsed by her status as a wife.

If she had stayed Maeve Heindel, heir to the Heindel and powerful haftan mage, she would not have had to rely on anyone in such a manner. When she would have succeeded her father, her word would have become law within her territory, and she would have built her own influence in the empire. She would not have needed anyone’s permission.

 Maeve resented him for depriving her of that.

She resented him for developing a one-sided fancy that led her to become his property. She resented him for putting his affection before her wishes when he went to her father. She resented him for being good to her, depriving her of the easy pleasure of hating him. She resented him for being a competent duke and decent husband that she could not mock and ridicule.

But more than him, she resented her father who sat in front of her. She hated him for promising her his title and taking it back when he could use her otherwise to benefit him.

To him, she had been a pawn he no longer needed at his side. He had sent her away and placed one of her useless brothers in the seat that was rightfully hers. The pawn had gone away but it did not forget the betrayal. This was not a game of Kodran, after all.

Count Heindel called for Jean with a simple hand gesture. He gave her a bouquet of flowers with a card attached to it.

“Give this to my granddaughter.”

He then dismissed her as though he owned the place.

Maeve silently watched the interaction and discreetly gave Jean the permission to leave when her aide turned her gaze to her.

“Father. It is great to see you again. It has been too long.” It was a respectful greeting, but it held no affection. The coldness of her tone indicated that she was not particularly happy to see him.

“Too long indeed. I have not received any letter from in quite a while.” He answered her greeting with a reproach.

“I have been quite… busy.”

“Still.” He had raised his voice a little in irritation. “I should not learn about my granddaughter’s death and miraculous resurgence through rumors.”

Maeve, on the other hand, down her glass of wine.

She was already fed up with this conversation. She wanted to know why he came all the way to Zahar. The sooner he told her, the sooner she could send him back to his pathetic sons.

“So. How can I help you?” She finally asked, fully intending on speeding up the dialogue.

“I have come to see Hazel’s condition. She must be quite shaken after going through such hardship.”

It was suspicious. Maeve’s eyes instinctively narrowed as she studied her father’s face.

He had never shown any interest in her youngest child. He had always asked about Haron since he would become the heir, but Hazel was useless to him. Moreover, it has been almost 2 years since she woke up, it was quite strange to worry about her now.

If he heard of her condition, it was highly likely he also heard that she failed her awakening test.

What does he want with her?

Maeve could not understand why her father, who only bothered with those he deemed useful, would even give her daughter a second thought.

“I will send her your regards then.”

I have a bad feeling about this.

“I would rather talk to her myself. I am her grandfather after all, we should get to know each other.”

Hearing this preposterous statement, Maeve finally had enough of beating around the bush.

“Why are you really here, Count Heindel?”

“Why so formal, Maeve? Have these years of distance made you forget that we are family?”

“We are family. That is why I know you enough to guess that you did not visit us because you missed your daughter and grandchildren. You are on a business visit so I will treat you accordingly, not as a father but as a fellow aristocrat.” She answered as poured herself a second glass of wine.

“I have to admit that I am quite disappointed Maeve. I thought I raised you to value your family, but it seems I have failed as a parent. Now that your daughter is on her way to become fiancé of the crown prince, you want to sever your ties with the Heindels.”

Maeve immediately froze and looked at her father, aghast.

How does he know that?!?

The engagement had not been confirmed yet and only a select number of people were aware of it. The count should have been one of them.

“I do not know where you heard such a thing but even you should know that rumors are just that.” She regained her composure and answered calmly, albeit a little too late.

“You should learn to control your expressions better, little Maeve. You are entirely way too easy to read.” He laughed gently as he dismissed her denial.

Maeve gritted her teeth.

Her father had found a new pawn in Hazel. He had come to make sure that the rumor he heard was true and she had played right into his hand.

“What do you want?”

“I do not want anything. As I said, I am simply a grandfather who wants to spend some time with his granddaughter.”

Maeve watched her father carefully. Even as an old man, he was still the same sly snake that had raised her. Wherever he saw an opportunity, he dove.

Hazel was to become his door to greater power since Maeve had failed at fulfilling the role he planned out for her.

But the duchess was not going to let him have his way.

She was indeed her father’s daughter and had her own plans for the new and improved Hazel. Now that she saw potential in her previously good-for-nothing daughter, she was not going to let him rip all the profits of her hard work.

“I would love nothing more than let you see her. But unfortunately, the doctor has advised us to shield her from unfamiliarity.”

“I am her family.”

“Family can be unfamiliar. Especially when you have never seen them.”

With that, she exposed the count’s hypocrisy.

He kept talking about family, but he only cared about his family when they proved themselves useful.

She did not disagree with him. Her brothers had shown her how poisonous useless family members could be. But she, at least, had the decency not to cover her cunning and scheming nature under the pretense of familial love. She owned up to it.

Just like her father had taught her, she valued people based on their usefulness. And when she looked at him at this moment, she only saw an insignificant pawn for which she no longer had any use.

“Father, it would be better if you get to know her through correspondence first. When she gets better, I will personally organize a meeting between the two of you.”

Her tone was reassuring, almost sweet, but both interlocutors knew her intentions. She was cutting the conversation short without giving him the chance to see Hazel.

“…”

The tension between father and daughter is thick. They kept a calculating gaze on each other, deceively pleasant smiles plastered on their face.

“Alright.” The count finally relented. “We still have plenty of time before Hazel is of marriageable age. I am sure we will become better acquainted by then.”

He smiled, got up from his chair and left without saying goodbye but promising to come back.

Maeve downed her second glass of wine before calling Jean.

“Yes my Lady?”

“Tell the postman that any letter with the Heindel seal or remotely related to the Heindel family is to be delivered to my desk.”

She would make sure to burn any letter he would send.