The General’s Forgotten Daughter

CHAPTER 9

The breakfast tray hit the floor with a crash, forgotten. Kaelenna breathing came in shallow bursts, one hand clutched dramatically to her chest, the other shaking against the fabric of her gown.

“Do you understand what this means?” she cried, looking to no one and everyone. “We’ve lost the protections. The treaties. The respect.”

Kaelenna paced the room, her robe trailing behind her like a banner of rage.

“Where is she? Where is she?!” she shouted, eyes wild. “This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening!” Her voice turned on the maids, sharp as a slap. “You—check the east wing. You—her quarters. Find her! Bring her back!”

The servants scattered in a flurry of bowed heads and quick steps. No one dared argue, though every one of them knew Seren hadn’t stepped foot in the estate since yesterday. Her absence now felt like a fire no one could put out.

“This is all her doing,” Kaelenna seethed, spinning toward her mother. “She’s punishing us because she was jealous. She wants to tear everything down!”

Mirelle didn’t answer. Her fingers trembled as she stared at the crumpled court documents on the floor.

In another part of the estate, Calyx stood in his study, arms braced on either side of his desk. His eyes were bloodshot, his voice raw from shouting hours earlier.

“She can’t do this. She can’t just walk away and take everything.”

“She did,” the steward said quietly, eyes lowered. “And now the nobles are talking.”

Calyx’s head snapped up. “What do you mean?”

“Three of your allies declined meetings today. Guild Master Helvon revoked his support. The grain consortiums are pulling out.”

Calyx cursed, slamming a glass against the edge of the desk. “They wouldn’t dare.”

But they had. By the time he reached the city gates, the damage had already spread. He stormed into the first guild hall, demanding a meeting.

“Tell the council I’m here,” he snapped.

The secretary smiled without warmth. “They’re unavailable.”

“At least give me five minutes,” he insisted. “We have standing agreements—”

“They’re under review,” she said flatly. “Please wait outside.”

At the second estate, the butler opened the door with narrowed eyes.

“Lord Darion.” Calyx stepped forward. “Is Master Ivorrin in?”

A pause. “No. And even if he were, he isn’t receiving you.”

The doors shut before Calyx could respond. He stood frozen, fists clenched, heart thudding. Behind him, voices drifted through the street like poison.

“You heard?”

“Veris blood, and he threw it away.”

“He’s finished.”

“Even Vireya can’t fix that.”

That night, Calyx returned to the estate hollow-eyed and silent. The house had grown colder, emptier. The staff moved quietly. No one met his gaze. He found Vireya in the sitting room, wine in hand, legs crossed elegantly, though her eyes darted toward him too quickly.

“We still have options,” she said before he could speak. “I’ve spoken to my father. If we frame this as political miscommunication—”

“She planned it,” he said flatly, cutting her off.

Vireya blinked. “What?”

“This wasn’t an accident,” he muttered. “She didn’t just react. She prepared. Every clause, every withdrawal, every piece was already in motion.”

Vireya stood. “You think she plotted this the whole time?”

“I think she was waiting for the right moment.”

Vireya’s voice turned cold. “You said she was harmless.”

Calyx laughed bitterly. “So did everyone.”

He stepped onto the balcony, the city lights flickering beyond the garden. For a moment, he didn’t speak. Then:

“I humiliated her, and she turned it into strategy. I made her invisible. She made me irrelevant.”

Outside the estate gates, Riven waited in the shadows. He stepped forward when Calyx emerged onto the front walk. Their eyes met through the iron bars.

Calyx’s voice was low. “Come to gloat?”

Riven shook his head. “No. I’m just here to see what it looks like when it all finally falls apart.”

“You don’t get it,” Calyx said, jaw tightening. “She was never this calculating. This isn’t her.”

Riven’s laugh was humorless—quiet, sharp.

“You really don’t get it,” he said. “Vireya’s the one who knows how to twist a knife. You don’t know my cousin like I do. She’s the devil in disguise. Beautiful, patient, and born to burn people like you.”

Calyx’s eyes narrowed, but Riven didn’t stop.

“And Seren?” Riven went on. “She didn’t start out like this. But you pushed her. Over and over. And now you’re surprised she finally pushed back?”

Calyx looked away for half a second, then snapped back. “She lied. She let everyone believe—”

Riven took a step closer. His voice dropped.

“Or maybe she just stopped giving you what you wanted.”