Adarain Varemount sat on the plush velvet sofa, one leg crossed over the other, his fingers drumming rhythmically against the porcelain cup in his hand. The room was grand, adorned with rich tapestries and intricate furnishings—exactly what one would expect from the estate of Duke Drakemorne. Heavy curtains hung across the windows, filtering the light that spilled softly into the room, casting shadows that flickered with every movement he made.

A maid entered quietly, her footsteps barely audible on the thick carpet. "My Lord, the Lady Leticia will be arriving soon," she said with a polite curtsy.

Adarain gave a brief nod, his expression remaining cold and unreadable as he took another sip of tea. The maid withdrew silently, leaving him once again in solitude. The ticking of the ornate clock on the mantle was the only sound that broke the silence, marking the passage of time as his mind wandered to the past.

His gaze fell to the dark liquid in his cup, and with it, his thoughts spiraled back to the day everything had changed.

                                                                                           ***

Flashback Begins,

Who was Leticia Drakemorne for me?

For me, she was just another noble. The precious daughter of Duke Drakemorne, the jewel of her father’s estate.

My first memory of her?

It’s not particularly grand. When I first saw her—at her coming-of-age ceremony, no less—she was just another noble lady in a sea of many. 

Dozens of them, all in their gowns, sparkling like they had something to prove, fluttering their fans and eyelashes, trying to be noticed. Leticia had been no different. At least, that’s what I thought then.

I remember looking at her that evening, standing among her admirers. And my initial reaction? Unremarkable. She was beautiful, sure. She had the poise of a lady, the grace everyone whispered about. But to me, she was just another face. 

I thought, 'This is the Lady Leticia? This is the one everyone keeps talking about?'

But it didn’t take long for me to see how wrong I was.

Everyone around me seemed to adore her. Adored. Respected. Cherished. I began to hear her name whispered in every circle. People spoke of her as if she were some ethereal creature—graceful, kind, benevolent. They acted like she was the epitome of nobility, as if there wasn’t a single flaw to be found beneath her perfect facade.

The more I observed, the more I realized... Leticia wasn’t just a lady; she was the lady. The one everyone watched, the one everyone spoke of in hushed tones of envy or awe.

But even then, I wasn’t impressed. She was still just another noble in my eyes. 

She had beauty, yes. 

She had charm, no doubt. 

But beyond that?

Nothing more, nothing less.

And then it all changed. Out of the blue.

One evening, I was called to my father’s study. He had that look on his face—the one that always told me he had already decided my fate before I even set foot in the room. The air in there had been so tense, thick with something I couldn’t name at the time. I remember standing there, waiting, as he sat behind his desk, as composed as ever.

“You are to be engaged to Lady Leticia Drakemorne,” he said, his voice cold and final, like the toll of a bell.

I couldn’t believe it. Engaged. Me, to Leticia? I’d barely given her more than a passing thought. Marriage? That wasn’t on my mind. Not with her. Not with anyone, really. I hardly knew her, and yet, in an instant, our fates were bound together by nothing more than an arrangement between our families.

I remember the argument—if you could even call it that. My protests, my questions, my disbelief... all met with my father’s cold, unwavering stare. He was immovable, like stone. I demanded answers.

I wanted to know why—why her, why me? 

But he never explained. In the end, his voice was final—that cold, clipped tone I had known all my life.

"This is not a request, Adarain. It’s an order."

And that was it. My choice, my life—irrelevant. It had nothing to do with what I wanted.

But even then, I thought maybe I could stomach it. Maybe I could do my duty, marry her, and live out this arranged life. I thought, as long as I kept my distance, as long as I didn’t let it consume me… I could manage.

Until I met her. Lyria Frostveil.

Lyria was everything Leticia wasn’t. She was soft, gentle, and real. There was no pretense with her, no grand performance for the court. She laughed easily, her eyes sparkling with a light that seemed to cut through the suffocating darkness of the noble world I inhabited. She was… different. And for the first time, I felt something genuine—something I hadn’t felt in years, maybe ever. Something that went beyond duty or obligation.

But I buried it. I had to. Because I was already promised to Leticia Drakemorne.

And then Leticia... began to show her true colors.

I should’ve seen it earlier, I suppose. But back then, I was too wrapped up in trying to convince myself it would all work out somehow. But when she revealed that cold, venomous side of her... that’s when I knew. The way she treated Lyria—cruel, as if Lyria was beneath her, unworthy of even basic decency. She was condescending and vicious in her judgments. 

Her kindness? It was all an act. 

A perfectly rehearsed performance for the court. Under that beautiful facade was a woman who was cold and selfish.

She wasn’t the sweet noblewoman everyone thought. She was a manipulative creature who saw people as tools to be used. And the worst part? She had convinced herself that she loved me. Her love... it wasn’t warm. It was suffocating. Like a vine that wrapped around my throat, slowly strangling me.

It didn’t take long before I began to resent her. Every smile and every word of affection from her felt like a weight pressing down on me. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t escape. And yet... I was trapped. 

Bound to her by an engagement I never wanted.

I wanted to break it. I wanted to end it so many times. But she wouldn’t let me. Every time I hinted at it, she would cry, or worse, make a scene. Her so-called love wasn’t something I could free myself from so easily. She clung to me like I was her salvation.

But now, things are different.

Now, I finally have the reason I needed to end it.

End of Flashback.

                                                                                                            ***

Drakemorne Mansion,

Back to the waiting room,

A noise at the door broke Adarain's thoughts. He turned his gaze toward the entrance as it opened, and Leticia stepped in.

Her posture was perfect, her expression unreadable. "Lord Adarain," she greeted him formally, her voice even as she curtsied. She didn’t look as she usually did—there was no warmth, no flutter of affection, no soft smile. Just cold formality.

Adarain stood, taken aback for a brief moment, preparing himself to deliver the words he had rehearsed in his mind countless times. But before he could speak, Leticia’s voice interrupted him.

"Let’s sit and talk," she said calmly, gesturing to the seat across from him.

He hesitated for a second, stunned by the shift in her demeanor. Her calmness... was unsettling.

Adarain sat across from Leticia, the weight of the conversation already pressing down on his shoulders. She looked different today—her usually sharp, calculated gaze replaced with something detached, distant, like she wasn’t entirely present. It unsettled him more than he wanted to admit.

Clearing his throat, Adarain finally spoke, his tone measured, as if testing the waters.

"How have you been, Lady Leticia?"

She lifted her eyes slowly, meeting his gaze with a cool, indifferent expression. “I’ve been well, Lord Varemount. And yourself?”

Adarain’s brow furrowed slightly at her choice of words. Lord Varemount? Not "Adarain"? The formal address stung in a way he hadn’t expected. He mumbled the words to himself, barely audible, but the confusion lingered in his mind.

Adarain gave a curt nod, not bothering with pleasantries. "Well enough."

He paused, studying her, before deciding to come straight to the point. There was no use dragging this out. Leticia had a reputation for creating chaos when things didn’t go her way, but he was prepared.

"I’ll come straight to the matter at hand," he said, leaning forward slightly. Leticia simply nodded, her expression unreadable, not giving him the satisfaction of any anticipation.

“I want to end our engagement,” he continued, his voice steady.

Silence.

He had expected a reaction—any kind of reaction. A sharp gasp, maybe. Her lips trembling as she tried to hold back tears. Or worse, a full-on scene where she would beg him not to end things, her voice breaking with desperation.

But nothing came. Leticia simply stared at him, her expression as still and composed as it had been from the start. Blank. Empty, almost. It unnerved him.

What now? he thought. Is she going to cry? Is she going to beg? Is she going to create some kind of chaos?

But none of those things happened. Instead, Leticia simply blinked, her gaze steady. And then, as if she had heard his thoughts, she spoke.

“Alright.”

Adarain blinked, completely thrown off. “What?”

Leticia tilted her head ever so slightly, her tone still as cold and detached as it had been when she first walked in. “I said, alright. If that’s what you want, we’ll end the engagement.”

Adarain was dumbfounded. This wasn’t the reaction he had prepared for. His jaw tightened, his mind trying to catch up to what just happened. No tears, no dramatic protests, no pleas for him to stay. Just… alright?

“Wait,” he said, his voice betraying the confusion he felt. “You... you’re okay with this?”

Leticia’s lips barely moved, a faint, humorless smile crossing her face. “It’s what you want, isn’t it, Lord Varemount?" she replied softly. “I have no reason to fight for something that was never truly mine to begin with.”

Adarain couldn’t believe it. The woman who had been so insistent on their engagement, who had clung to him so tightly, was now letting it go as if it meant nothing. His mind raced, trying to piece together the change in her. It didn’t make sense. This wasn’t the Leticia he knew.

She rose from her seat with a graceful ease, smoothing the fabric of her gown before addressing him with that same calm, detached voice. 

“I will speak to my father about breaking our engagement,” she said, her tone flat, emotionless.

Adarain opened his mouth to respond, to ask her why she was taking this so calmly, but the words caught in his throat. What could he say? Wasn’t this what he had wanted? Freedom from a future that had felt so suffocating?

But now, as Leticia turned away, he felt a strange sense of loss washing over him, mingled with relief and confusion.

She bowed to him formally, her eyes momentarily softening as they met his. “Have a great day, Lord Varemount,” she said, her tone polite, almost detached.

With that, she turned on her heel and walked away, her silhouette framed by the opulence of the room, the grandeur of Duke Drakemorne’s estate.

Adarain watched her leave, his mind racing. The door closed softly behind her, but the echoes of her departure lingered in the air like the fading notes of a haunting melody.