Chapter 1
My daughter, Nina Valen, died before she turned two.
In the vast Duke of Valor’s estate, not a single physician could be found—she was left to die, slowly and cruelly.
Her father, Caine Valen, had taken every last stem of the rare Celestine Lotus—the only thing keeping her alive—and sent all the doctors to Willow Court, to heal his newly returned beloved, Loretta Sinclair.
I knelt in the downpour, my daughter’s lifeless body in my arms, trembling so hard I could barely breathe.
I couldn’t tell if the shiver came from the fever burning inside me—or from the hollow ache in my chest.
For three years, I stayed—for a man who never loved me—because our daughter needed the Lotus to survive.
Now, she was gone.
And as I reached for the whistle my father left me before he died, I knew: something in me was finally breaking.
*****
I never knew what it was supposed to do.
But hoping that some miracle would happen, I blew into it.
After several minutes, a man dressed in black, his face hidden beneath a Shadow Court mask, stepped into my room like a wraith.
"Lauren Verne?" he asked, giving a quick respectful bow.
'So that's what the whistle's for—calling for help,' I thought to myself.
"You've just blown our Shadow Court's Whistle of Oathbound Grace. How do you wish to have that favor repaid?" he said.
In that instant, I finally understood the meaning behind my father's unfinished words.
"I want to leave here—and erase every trace of my existence here," I said.
"Are you certain you want to spend this one favor?" he asked.
"I'm sure. No doubts," I replied, unwavering.
"You have three days. We'll come for you—stay ready," he said.
*****
Three years ago, the situation in Northmark grew dire, and my father, Finnian Verne, served as Caine's Deputy Commander.
During a sudden ambush, he was struck by several arrows while protecting Caine. On his deathbed, he entrusted me to that young war hero.
"Your Grace... I... can't follow you any longer..." my father rasped, his voice barely a whisper.
He lay there in the command tent, breaths fading, the white bandages on his chest soaked red with blood.
"All I ask... please protect my little girl, Lauren... Her mother left us so early... She's all that's left to me..." he pleaded.
I was only eighteen then, kneeling by my father's bed, crying so hard I could barely get words out.
Caine, his silver armor spattered with blood, dropped to one knee beside my dad and made his solemn vow.
"General Verne, don't worry. I swear right here—I'll look after Lauren like she's my own blood. No harm will ever touch her, not while I'm alive," he said.
Three days later, my father's body was brought back to Valleria for burial, and I moved into the Duke of Valor's estate.
I remember the first time I stepped through those grand gates, the sheer scale of the place was so overwhelming I couldn't even bring myself to look up.
Caine walked ahead, then suddenly stopped and turned to look at me.
"Lauren, there's no need to stand on ceremony. From now on, this is your home," he said.
His voice was gentle, but there was an unmistakable distance in it.
He added, "I've had the Rainmere Pavilion in the east wing prepared for you. It's quiet and peaceful—perfect for you to settle in.
"If you need anything, just let the steward know."
I nodded timidly, stealing a glance at him. The sunlight streamed down behind him, casting a golden glow around his figure.
His brows were sharp, his eyes sparkled, his nose had a noble profile, and his jawline was so perfectly chiseled it could've been sculpted by an artist. He was the kind of man you couldn't help but remember from the very first sight.
At that moment, my heart stuttered. 'This is the man I want,' I thought, breathless.
"Thank you, Your Grace," I whispered, my voice barely more than a breath.
He nodded slightly and turned, striding off, his silver armor catching the sunlight, his figure upright and unyielding—like a solitary pine.
I had no idea, in that fleeting moment, how completely that single look would seal my fate.