Chapter 2
1011words
Mother's teachings stir in my blood. Her medicine box—always filled with sun-dried moongrass and silver-leaf flowers. Between her fingers, herbs became weapons of dual purpose: healing the deserving, making villains rot from within.
At twelve, I slipped datura powder to the steward who'd denied me coal. He slept for three days straight. After waking, he never dared snarl at me again. This is the "softness" of herbs—vines that strangle boulders, power veiled in silence.
The Bronze Contract Ring, however, carried power of a different nature.
Before dying, Mother slid the ring onto my finger. "An ancient inheritance," she whispered. "Blood as ink, soul as guide."
On my fifteenth birthday, I accidentally cut my finger. As blood touched the ring, images flickered across its surface—the kitchen maid stealing silverware. That was the "hardness" of Contract Magic: a blade hidden in silk, cutting through all deception.
"You ungrateful wretch!" Father's roar shattered my thoughts. His walking stick crashed against the floor, the carved head denting the wood. "Do you realize what you've done? Forcing your sister to suffer while you choose the Valerian Family? Your cursed luck will doom the vampire clan. Would you have our entire family ruined because of you?"
His fury mounted with each word. The walking stick rose and fell, cracking against my back. Though the pain made my eyes water, my heart remained cold as dead ash. What was this physical pain compared to years of heartbreak?
Seraphina caught his arm, her eyes strategically reddened. "Father, please. Perhaps Sister hasn't thought this through. Actually…" She paused dramatically. "The werewolves are fine. I'm willing to go." She dangled the wolf fang before my eyes, its bloodstained tip catching the lamplight.
I traced the patterns on my bronze ring. "Sister is far too precious," I said, my voice like ice. "Better she stays home in comfort."
Father's face darkened to a mottled purple. "Isabella! Don't forget who raised you all these years!"
"Surely you jest." I raised my hand slowly, the bronze ring catching the light. "If Mother could see from her grave how you've treated her daughter… well."
"You—!" Father trembled, hand raised to strike. Something in me snapped. I grabbed his walking stick and hurled it across the room. Years of submission shattered in that single act of defiance.
Seraphina lunged forward, clawing at me. With deliberate precision, she knocked the Blood Jade Ring from my finger.
The ring skittered across marble with a musical chime. As I moved to retrieve it, the ballroom doors burst open. Winter air rushed in, carrying snowflakes that made the candles dance wildly.
"Who dares touch a Valerian betrothal gift?"
The aged voice cracked like a whip, freezing everyone in place. In the doorway stood an elderly woman in a black velvet cloak, her silver-white curls dusted with snow. The ruby atop her scepter glowed unnaturally bright in the dim hall. Behind her stood two stone-faced maids, Silver Daggers—the Valerian emblem—gleaming at their waists.
"L-Lady Victoria?" Father's voice cracked, his arrogance evaporating instantly. "How did you—"
Victoria's gaze swept past him to find me. Something like warmth flickered in her sunken eyes. She approached slowly, her scepter tapping a steady rhythm that seemed to match Father's racing pulse.
"Let me see who dares mistreat my future daughter-in-law." Her fingertip barely touched the fallen ring, which glowed crimson and flew back to my hand. "Lord Morningstar, it seems you've forgotten the contract your ancestor made with the Valerian Family three centuries ago."
Father's face drained of color. "Surely you jest, madam. That's ancient history…"
"Ancient history?" Victoria's sneer could have cut glass. Her scepter carved a pattern into the floor that glowed in the firelight, echoing the design on my bronze ring. "With the Sacred Grove as boundary and blood jade as proof, any legitimate daughter of the Morningstar family shall have priority in choosing marriage alliance with the Valerian Family. This contract is inscribed on gold foil in the royal archives. Shall I have someone fetch it for your review?"
Seraphina's sobs cut off mid-breath as she stared at the glowing pattern. The bronze ring in my palm suddenly burned hot, responding to Victoria's words. Mother had left me more than Contract Magic—she'd left me a forgotten legacy.
"But the werewolves have shown us such kindness…" Father's final protest lacked conviction.
"Debts must be repaid, yes, but contracts cannot be broken. You have another daughter who seems eager to marry a werewolf. Let her have her wish." Victoria moved to my side, her weathered hand covering mine. "Miss Isabella, come with me. Young Leicester awaits at the manor to offer his apologies."
I studied Father's ashen face, then Seraphina's white-knuckled grip on the wolf fang. The bronze ring burned against my skin. Perhaps this was what Mother meant by "when the time comes, heaven and earth join forces." The opportunity I missed in my previous life had returned in a different guise.
"Very well." I slipped the Blood Jade Ring back onto my finger, where it gleamed beside the bronze band. "I apologize for the trouble, Lady Victoria."
Victoria nodded, satisfied. As she turned, her scepter traced the floor once more. The patterns seemed to awaken, flowing like liquid light through the doorway and leaving glowing footprints in the snow outside. Father stood frozen, something caught in his throat, unable to speak.
As we left the banquet hall, I glanced back. Father stood with his back to us, shoulders trembling slightly. Whether from rage or fear, I couldn't tell.
Snowflakes settled on my lashes, bringing a moment of cool clarity. This was only the beginning. Victoria offered protection, yes—but also the weight of ancient obligations.
What secrets lay buried in that three-hundred-year-old contract? Why had Mother's dying gaze held such complexity?
The bronze ring hummed against my skin—urging me forward, yet warning me too.
