Moonlight filtered softly through the tall arched windows of my private chambers, casting long, shimmering silver shadows that danced across the polished marble floor like ghostly blades.
The air hung heavy with the scent of night-blooming jasmine from the balcony vines, but my mind was elsewhere—tomorrow was the duel with Count Jennife, and deep down, I had to admit I wasn't entirely sure if I could win against her.
In my old life as an assassin, I was skilled enough to hunt down the worst scum of society, taking them out quietly in dark alleys with chains and knives, but I wasn't the absolute best, or I never would have ended up poisoned and dying in that rain-soaked gutter.
This world operated on completely different rules—gender roles and identities were dictated by ABO dynamics rather than birth sex, power came intertwined with layers of fantasy magic drawn from the Aetheric Veil, and strength wasn't just muscle—it was scents, instincts, and raw dominance.
