Chapter 6: The First Counter-attack

POV: GUINE

I had rejected Kael in front of witnesses. I thought that would be the end of it. I did not expect his mistress to move against me before the sun even set.

The morning after the rejection ritual, the manor felt colder than usual. The heavy silence of the long stone corridors was broken only by the nervous shuffling of servants who went out of their way to avoid my eyes. When I called for my maid to fetch the morning ledgers and send word to the timber and grain merchants I normally dealt with, she returned empty-handed, trembling as she stammered that every single merchant was suddenly "unavailable."

By afternoon, the truth behind their sudden absence became clear.

Morgause Wren had visited my mother late last night. She had not come as a polite guest bearing condolences for a shattered marriage. She had come as a calculated woman protecting her newfound position, moving swiftly to consolidate her power before I could even pack my trunks.

I didn't need to confront the household staff to learn what had transpired; my new ability forced their thoughts into my mind without my meaning to hear them. As I walked past two scullery maids scrubbing the marble floor of the gallery, their unguarded thoughts splashed over me like ice water.

(Mistress Morgause made it very clear, the elder maid’s mind whispered with bitter satisfaction. She promised Lady Vespera that if the family helps force Lady Guine back into line, little Sefa’s future, and their generous monthly allowance, will remain completely secure. But if Lady Guine persists in this madness, Alpha Kael will cut off every penny.)

(Lady Guine has lost her senses, the younger maid thought back nervously. Lord Reginald is already out in the high district telling everyone she has suffered a nervous breakdown…)

A cold, familiar anger rose in my chest, sharp and unyielding.

In my first life, I would have swallowed this kind of treatment. I would have spent days weeping into my pillow, agonizing over how to fix the rift, desperately trying to prove my worth because I foolishly believed that loyalty and self-sacrifice would eventually be rewarded. I had allowed them to drain my spirit and my coin, mistaking their parasitic dependence for familial love.

This time, every attempt to manipulate and control me only hardened my resolve into steel.

I returned to my private sitting room and sat at my desk, quietly auditing my remaining personal assets. I refused to beg. I refused to explain myself to merchants who cowered at Kael's name, and I certainly refused to shed a single tear over Morgause's petty political maneuvering.

Before I could finish cross-referencing my accounts, the heavy double doors of my sitting room burst open.

My mother, Lady Vespera, swept into the room. Her face was pale, her dark eyes red-rimmed from a lack of sleep, and her delicate hands trembled against the fine silk of her skirt.

"Guine," she began, her voice strained and sharp with panic. "We need to talk about this utter catastrophe. Do you have any idea what you have done?"

I didn't look up from my ledger immediately. I slowly finished writing a line of figures before setting my quill back into its inkstand. "I have severed a dead bond, Mother. Nothing more."

"Nothing more?" my mother gasped, taking three hurried steps toward my desk. "The entire district is talking! Morgause was here last night, Guine. She was gracious enough to offer us a way out of this embarrassment! She assured me that Kael is willing to overlook your emotional outburst if you simply act like a sensible woman."

"Sensible?" A faint, bitter smile touched my lips. "And what does Morgause consider sensible?"

"You will draft a public retraction," my mother demanded, her tone rising into an imperious screech. "You will apologize to Kael before the elders for the sake of this family! You will tell them the rejection was brought on by exhaustion and stress! If you do not fix this today, your uncle’s trade lines will fail, my stipend will be canceled, and we will be cast out of high society!"

She leaned across the desk, her eyes wide with desperate urgency. "Think of your family, Guine! Apologize to him, for the sake of the family!"

I stood up slowly, drawing myself to my full height. The cold composure in my posture caught her off guard, making her take a hesitant step backward.

I looked her straight in the eye, my gaze burning with absolute, unwavering resolve.

"The family can starve for all I care."

The silence that followed was heavy, sudden, and suffocating.

The color completely drained from my mother’s face. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. For the very first time in my life, I saw real, unvarnished fear take root in her expression.

It was not fear for my well-being. It was not heartbreak over my pain, nor was it dread over the cold world I would face alone. It was the stark, pathetic terror of a parasite realizing its host had finally severed the vein. She was terrified of losing the luxuries, the influence, and the endless gold they had quietly bled from me for years.

"Guine..." she whispered, her voice cracking as she stared at me as if I were a dangerous stranger. "You... you cannot mean that."

"I have paid your debts for a decade," I said softly, every word laced with quiet fury. "I have carried the weight of your greed while you watched Kael treat me like a servant. I owe this family nothing. Step out of my way, Mother, or I will ensure your names are attached to the financial audits I present to the magistrate tomorrow."

Unable to endure the intensity of my gaze, my mother stumbled back, clutching her silk shawl to her chest, and fled the room without another word.

I let out a slow, steadying breath, leaning my hands against the polished wood of my desk. My heart hammered against my ribs, but beneath the adrenaline, I felt a soaring sense of liberation. The invisible chains had been shattered. They could no longer reach me through guilt.

That evening, as twilight painted the sky in shades of bruised purple and dark grey, a quiet knock sounded at my door. A young courier, wearing no official pack livery, slipped a thick envelope under the door and vanished into the shadows of the corridor.

I walked over and picked up the parchment.

The back of the envelope was stamped with a delicate, arrogant wax seal, a gilded serpent wrapped around a white rose.

It was Morgause Wren's personal mark.

I broke the wax and unfolded the heavy parchment. Her handwriting was sharp, elegant, and dripping with malicious intent.

The first line read:

“You have made a very expensive mistake, Guinevere. I intend to make sure you feel every coin of it.”