The storm that had been grumbling over the horizon finally broke before dawn. Rain hammered the stained-glass windows of Vale Manor like fists demanding entry, washing the night in silver streaks.
I hadn't slept. Ana's words kept circling my head—Prove you're not the monster the world remembers.
Proving it would be harder than surviving.
A soft knock sounded. Reiss stepped in, dripping rain from his cloak."My lord, the outer watch reports riders on the east road—imperial colors."
I frowned. "At this hour?"
"They carry the council's seal."
So it begins. The ruling council hadn't even waited a day before tightening the leash around the villain they thought they'd buried.
"Prepare the reception hall," I said. "And double the guards."
The emissaries arrived before sunrise—three men wrapped in blue cloaks, the serpent sigil glinting on their brooches. The one in the middle, Lord Gregor Vael, was a name even readers of the novel despised: the council's inquisitor, the man who orchestrated Lucien's downfall.
He looked older than I expected—white hair, narrow eyes that measured everything.
"Lord Lucien," he greeted, voice oily smooth. "You've returned from the dead. How… inconvenient."
"I prefer miraculous," I said, sinking into the high-backed chair that once belonged to the old Duke. "To what do I owe this resurrection party?"
His companions stiffened, but Gregor only smiled thinly. "The council requires your cooperation. The crown cannot tolerate rebellion twice."
"So they send lapdogs to bite first."
"Careful, my lord. The last man who called me a dog lost his tongue."
Reiss moved beside me, hand resting on his sword hilt. The air thickened with tension.
I leaned forward. "Tell your council this: I have no interest in their petty throne. All I seek is peace within my lands."
Gregor's gaze lingered on me, probing. "How noble. And the rumors that you consort again with Lady Ana Everleigh?"
A faint smile tugged at my mouth. "Rumors travel faster than truth."
He chuckled, but there was no warmth in it. "Then we understand each other. The council will be watching."
He turned to leave—and that was when I felt it.
A ripple in the air, subtle but sharp—mana, hidden beneath the sound of rain. One of his guards moved oddly, right hand twitching toward his belt. My instincts screamed.
"Reiss!"
The guard drew first, a crystal dagger glowing sickly green. Poisoned.
Steel flashed. Reiss blocked the strike, sparks flying. I raised my hand, instinct guiding me more than memory. Shadows coiled around my fingers like living smoke.
"Abyss bind."
The spell erupted from me—dark tendrils snaking across the floor, wrapping around the assassin's legs, yanking him down. The crystal dagger clattered away.
For a moment the hall smelled of burnt iron and ozone. Gregor's mask cracked just enough for me to see the hatred beneath.
"You still wield cursed magic," he hissed. "Proof enough for the council."
"Proof that I can still defend myself," I answered.
He stepped back. "This will not end well for you, Lucien Vale."
"Nothing ever has," I said, lowering my hand. "But I'm still here."
They left in silence, dragging the bound assassin behind them.
When the doors closed, Reiss exhaled hard. "You should have killed them, my lord."
"Not yet," I said. "We need them to believe I'm predictable. Only then can we move first."
I turned toward the window. The storm was easing, but lightning still flashed beyond the mountains—white against black.
Somewhere beyond those clouds sat the capital, the hero, and the woman fate had turned into a knife.
Ana.
I could still feel the warmth of her waist from when I'd pulled her close. The scent of jasmine lingered faintly on my coat. For the first time since waking in this cursed body, I wasn't sure whether the tremor in my hands came from rage or something dangerously close to longing.
Either way, both were fuel.
"Reiss," I said quietly, "prepare a list of everyone loyal to the Vale House. And summon the mage scholar—Sera. I need to learn everything about cursed mana. If I'm to survive their game, I'll need to master the very power they fear."
He bowed and left.
Alone again, I stared at my reflection in the window. The eyes staring back were still Lucien's—cold, sharp, but alive.
"Let them watch," I murmured. "I'll play the villain until I own the stage."
Thunder rolled once more, distant but steady.
The world thought the villain had returned.They had no idea the real story had only just begun.