The villainess was no longer alone; she was the heart of the House of Veridia.
Her father, the Duke of Veridia, had always been cold, a man who viewed his daughter as a political chess piece. Yet, as Elara prepared to face another day of scorn, the heavy oak doors of her study swung open. Instead of a reprimand, the Duke stood there holding a small, intricately carved wooden box. The villainess was no longer alone; she was
As he left, her younger brother, Julian—the boy who usually avoided her like a plague—poked his head in. "Sister," he whispered, sliding a plate of honey cakes onto her desk. "Don't tell Father, but I saw the way you handled the court today. You were... impressive." Instead of a reprimand, the Duke stood there
"Your favorite dried jasmine," he muttered, looking everywhere but at her eyes. "I noticed your supply was low." "Don't tell Father, but I saw the way
Elara froze. In the original story, this was the week he was supposed to disown her.
"And Elara?" he added, his voice gruff. "The Crown Prince's recent insults toward you have been noted. The Veridia knights are being stationed at your door. No one—not even royalty—will make you feel unwelcome in your own home again."