The skies over Vilgian were velvet blue, stitched with the golden sun that warmed the land. Shen Yui arrived in a whirlwind of fate, clad in unfamiliar fabrics but with the soul of a warrior. Her mission was clear: learn the secrets of the Caelum Family and dismantle their future rise to power. And if possible… reshape the fate of the Shen.
But when she crossed paths with him—AnWenyi, heir to the House Caelum—her clarity began to blur. Cold, aloof, elegant beyond reason, he was a man who wielded silence like a blade and whose rare smiles could start wars or end them.
He was nothing like she expected.And perhaps, neither was she.
The morning Shen Yui arrived in Vilgian, the capital was preparing for the Banquet of Ascendancy. It was a celebration reserved for nobility and rising heirs—a showcase of beauty, talent, and quiet declarations of political dominance.
Though technically an outsider, Shen Yui had received a formal invitation. Whether it was a gesture of diplomacy or mockery, she couldn't say. She accepted it all the same.
As she stepped off the silver carriage bearing the emblem of the Shen Family—a dragon coiled around a blade—the servants nearby froze. The emblem carried weight even in this land of gold and arrogance.
Her gown, midnight silk stitched with shimmering eastern runes, flowed like liquid night. Her sword, sheathed at her side, was ceremonial only in name. Its true edge had drawn blood before—and might again.
She walked through the courtyard of the High Pavilion, eyes meeting those of noble sons and daughters as if daring them to speak first.
"Who is that?"
"Is she from the east?"
"That's the Shen girl. I heard her family commands dragons."
She smiled inwardly. Let them talk.
Inside the banquet hall, chandeliers sparkled like stars frozen in crystal. Gold drapes fluttered in the evening breeze, and music lilted through the air like sweet perfume. The atmosphere was refined, beautiful—and laced with venom.
She had barely accepted her goblet of wine when he appeared.
AnWenyi.
His presence was like frost. Not cold in cruelty, but in restraint—a man molded by tradition and legacy.
His silver eyes glanced at her once, then away.
That should have been the end of it. But he lingered.
"You wear the colors of dusk," he said eventually, his voice soft. "Fitting for a woman who walks between futures."
Shen Yui turned. Her lips curved faintly. "And you wear indifference like armor. Is that to keep others out, or yourself in?"
A pause.
He blinked—once. That was the closest thing to surprise the heir of Caelum ever showed.
"I was not expecting you here," he said, ignoring the ripple of noble girls behind him whose dreams dimmed at her arrival. "The banquet is political."
"So am I," Shen Yui replied with a wink.
They danced. Not literally. Not yet. But their exchange had begun.
Elsewhere in the ballroom, Gracy Atizza leaned against a marble column, sipping wine as rich as the northern frostlands. She watched Acetein Floresco bumble through another polite conversation with a Sorein ambassador's daughter. His laughter was too loud. His coat was misaligned. His heart, clearly, was in the wrong place.
"You're hopeless," she said as he stumbled over to her.
He blinked. "I was charming."
"You were drowning," she said, tugging his coat straight. "And I was watching."
Acetein grinned. "Then I guess you saved me. Again."
Behind them, a shadow passed. Jose Cordapior, silent and dressed in a black coat stitched with the sigil of twisted vines, watched Gracy with eyes that had once taken lives.
He said nothing. But his presence was like a breath on her neck.
Back at the banquet...
"Lady Shen," came a voice sharper than a dagger's kiss. Clitoria Bornafide approached, fan half-raised, hiding a sneer.
"You look lovely," she said, tone dipped in poison. "I heard dragon silk is very last century. But then, I suppose ancient styles suit ancient families."
Shen Yui smiled sweetly. "And I heard rose perfume can't hide the scent of desperation."
AnWenyi choked slightly. Acetein, watching from afar, muttered, "Oh no. Yui's in villainess mode."
But Shen Yui bowed politely. "Please enjoy the banquet, Lady Bornafide. Try not to trip on your own pride."
As Clitoria fumed and flounced away, AnWenyi offered his hand. "You navigate these games well."
"I prefer swords," she said, accepting his hand. "But dances come close."
And so they stepped into the ballroom, the music swelling around them like prophecy.