THE GENERAL'S DISGRACED HEIR

David gestured to the chair across from him with an air of casual authority. "Take a seat," he said, his voice steady as he reached for the small silver bell placed on the table beside him. He rang it once, the chime echoing through the room. He expected the ever-efficient maids to appear with breakfast at any moment.

His mind, however, was already working. This unexpected visit from Mariana presented an opportunity. She wasn't just another noble; she was Mariana Va Ironblade, sister to the Archon of Warfare and an important figure in Lysora County. If he failed in his efforts to save the Archon, forging an alliance with Mariana could be a crucial fallback.

Mariana, meanwhile, sat stiffly in the offered chair, her crimson eyes boring into David with a mix of curiosity and defiance. She broke the silence first, her voice sharp and direct. "So, what's the truth?"

David leaned back, folding his arms as his icy blue gaze met hers without flinching. "The truth," he began, his tone measured, "is that you're weak. You never stood a chance against those who don't compete inside a well."

Mariana's eyes widened, the bluntness of his words striking her like a blow. For a moment, she was stunned, disbelief flashing across her face. Weak? A lifetime of rigorous training, countless victories, and relentless dedication—dismissed with a single word. Her shock quickly gave way to indignation, and she began to question if coming here had been a mistake.

Who is this man to insult me so brazenly?

David noticed the storm brewing behind her eyes and sighed, shaking his head slightly. "You misunderstand me," he said, his voice softer but no less firm. "This is exactly why you're weak. Instead of trying to see the meaning behind my words, you take them as an insult. You're so caught up in your pride that you can't see past it."

Mariana's jaw tightened as her temper flared. "Then what," she snapped, "do you expect me to interpret from such patronizing?"

David leaned forward, his gaze unyielding. "I expect you to remember that

you

came to

me.

If you want answers, stop throwing tantrums and start listening. The world doesn't revolve around you, Mariana Va Ironblade."

His calm, unruffled demeanor only fueled her frustration. She shot to her feet, her chair scraping loudly against the floor. "You don't know anything about me," she hissed, her voice trembling with anger.

David crossed his legs and steepled his fingers, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "I know more than you think," he replied, his tone maddeningly serene. "I know that you're weak. And with your current mentality, you'll never become one of the strongest."

Mariana clenched her fists, her body trembling with the effort to hold back her outrage. She opened her mouth to retort, but David cut her off with a subtle gesture. He glanced at Luna, who had been quietly observing the exchange from her place near the door.

"Tell me, Mariana," David said, gesturing toward Luna. "Do you think you could best my companion here in a fight?"

Mariana's gaze shifted to Luna, sizing her up with a mix of determination and skepticism. Luna, with her silver hair and golden eyes, seemed unassuming at first glance. But as Mariana's thoughts raced, Luna's presence seemed to shift.

The air grew heavier, sharper, and unbearably oppressive. A dangerous aura radiated from Luna, pinning Mariana in place like an insect under a magnifying glass. Sweat beaded on her brow as her instincts screamed at her to run. This wasn't a normal woman—this was a predator.

"You see," David's voice broke the tension, laced with a teasing tone. "Luna, stop harassing our guest."

Luna's sharp gaze softened, and she gave an exaggerated growl. "She tried to challenge me," Luna said, her tone half-amused, half-annoyed.

Mariana collapsed back into her chair, her hands trembling slightly as she gripped the armrests. Her mind was a whirlwind of confusion and realization.

What have I gotten myself into?

she thought.

Have I willingly walked into a den of monsters?

A knock at the door interrupted the charged atmosphere, drawing everyone's attention. David stood, adjusting his composure with an easy grace. "Breakfast," he said casually, glancing back at Mariana. "We should eat. Afterward, we can discuss how I might be able to help you."

Mariana blinked, her scattered thoughts slowly refocusing. The fire in her eyes reignited, her resolve bolstered by David's words. Despite everything, he was offering her a lifeline—a chance to learn, to grow stronger. She nodded, a spark of determination replacing the earlier fear.

David opened the door, expecting to see the familiar face of the maid. Instead, his brow arched in surprise as he was met with someone entirely different.

The figure standing there carried an air of importance, their presence immediately shifting the atmosphere of the room.

Who... or what... is this?

David wondered, his sharp mind already beginning to analyze the unexpected visitor.

Mariana's gaze shifted to the doorway, her eyes widening in astonishment as recognition set in. Her voice escaped in a whisper, tinged with disbelief. "Uncle...?"

David, who had been just as surprised by the sudden appearance, echoed the word, his sharp tone laced with curiosity. "Uncle?"

The man at the door stood with a silver tray in hand, laden with an elaborate breakfast spread. His presence radiated a quiet authority, the polished composure of someone who commanded respect without effort. His hair, streaked with silver, added a distinguished air to his otherwise unassuming demeanor.

He stepped into the room, placing the tray on the table with deliberate care. Then, his piercing gaze turned to Mariana. "Mariana," he began, his voice steady but carrying an unmistakable note of reprimand, "what are you doing in a man's quarters at this hour?"

Mariana's mouth opened and closed as she struggled to find an answer. Her usual confidence wavered under the weight of his question. She glanced briefly at David, seeking some form of rescue, but his expression remained neutral—watchful.

"I... I was just—" she stammered, flustered, unsure how to explain herself without further complicating the situation. For the first time in years, she felt utterly unprepared.

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