Strength in Unity: The honey trap

Location: Shelb Camp near the Northern Borders

The Shelb camp buzzed with activity, a chaotic mix of soldiers preparing for the looming battle. Amid the commotion, Micheal von Shelb wandered aimlessly, his sharp blue eyes scanning the area. He had tried offering assistance, but most soldiers either evaded his efforts out of respect for his noble status or avoided him altogether. Frustrated, Micheal felt an acute sense of purposelessness. Then, as if to mock his repeated failures, someone finally approached him for help.

As Micheal reached the quieter outskirts of the camp, the clinking of weapons and shouted orders faded into a haunting stillness. Here, a young woman emerged, her Shelb estate healer's assistant uniform slightly rumpled. Her face was flushed, her hair disheveled, and her wide eyes carried an air of urgency.

"My lord!" she called, breathless. "Forgive me, but my helper beast has gone missing. Could you help me find it?"

Micheal hesitated. Suspicion prickled at the back of his mind, but after so many rebuffed efforts to assist others, he couldn't bring himself to refuse the first person asking for his help. Besides, denying her now could undermine his image as a kind and approachable lord. Forcing his doubts aside, he gave a nod. "Of course," he replied. "Lead the way."

She led him toward a secluded area near the mountains. Micheal's sharp gaze scanned the surroundings, unease gnawing at him. The spot was oddly isolated, a place rarely frequented except during specific times of the day.

"Why here?" he wondered, his instincts urging him to leave. But before he could voice his concern, the woman stopped abruptly, her eyes darting around nervously.

"It's strange," she murmured, her gaze shifting. "I thought I saw it here."

Micheal frowned. "There's no sign of—"

Before he could finish, the woman turned sharply. In one swift motion, she tore her own shirt and clawed at his coat, ripping the fabric.

"What are you doing?!" Micheal exclaimed, stepping back, his voice tinged with shock and disbelief.

Her expression shifted instantly, her feigned innocence giving way to calculated malice.

A triumphant glint sparkled in her eyes as she said coquettishly, "My lord, please! Your wife… she doesn't treat you well. Everyone knows you live separately. Let me care for you. Let me make you happy."

Micheal froze, her words striking him with disgust.

"You're mistaken," he said firmly, his voice steady despite the turmoil within. "I am loyal to my wife. Always."

Her frustration twisted her features, but her confidence didn't waver.

She was certain that if she pressed harder, Micheal would relent. Her plan seemed foolproof—no man, not even the noble and dutiful Micheal, could resist her persistence.

After all, everyone back home at Shelb whispered about his estranged marriage. They lived apart, didn't they? Surely, he was lonely.

Confident in her allure, she reached out, groping him as she murmured, "I can make you happy, my lord. Let me take care of you."

Micheal recoiled, his voice tight with anger. "Stop this. I said no."

But she didn't stop. Her hands caught on the pendant hanging around his neck, the small trinket that Micheal treated with almost reverential care.

She didn't know it belonged to Magda, but she had heard the rumors—how Micheal always fiddled with it, kissed it in moments of joy, and guarded it with ferocious devotion. Some said it belonged to a lover from his past, a sentimental tie to someone he could never forget.

The girl's eyes gleamed with new resolve as she gripped the pendant.

"You care for this so much," she purred, her fingers tightening around the chain. "But what about yourself? You deserve to be cared for too, my lord."

Micheal's anger deepened as he reached to free the pendant from her grasp. "Let go. Now."

His attempts to retrieve the pendant only tangled them further, her proximity fueling her belief that she had succeeded. Her triumphant smile widened as she whispered, "See? You're already letting me in."

However, the sound of approaching footsteps shattered her confidence. Her triumphant expression turned to panic as her mind raced to salvage her plot.

In a desperate move, she fell to her knees, clutching her torn clothes and wailing. "My honor… he assaulted me!" she sobbed. "I can't live with this shame. Please, my lord, have mercy!"

Micheal turned, his heart pounding, to see Magda and Vivian standing a few paces away.

Magda's crimson eyes locked onto him, her expression unreadable, while Vivian's emerald gaze flickered between shock and growing anger.

"Magda," Micheal began, his voice faltering. "This isn't what it looks like. I didn't…"

Magda's silence was suffocating as she stepped closer. Micheal's words died on his lips under her piercing gaze.

To Micheal and Vivian, she appeared calm as she knelt beside the girl, whispering something softly. But only the girl could hear her words, and her expression shifted from triumph to dread.

"Then what are you waiting for?" Magda's voice suddenly broke the silence, sharp and icy. "End it."

The girl's sobs faltered, her wide eyes snapping to Magda's face.

Of all people, why did it have to be the princess? Rumors painted Magda as a shrew who had forced Micheal into marriage, but the girl had hoped for mercy—a chance to remain as Micheal's mistress, or at least be given money to disappear. Instead, she was met with an unrelenting presence.

"What… what do you mean?" she stammered, her earlier confidence dissolving.

Magda's crimson eyes narrowed as she leaned closer. The air around them warped subtly, and her words, though whispered, carried venom that only the girl could hear.

"If you think I'll let you manipulate him, you're wrong," she said. "I could end you here, and no one would question it. But I won't… because he's watching."

The girl paled, her trembling becoming genuine. "I… I didn't mean to…" she faltered, realizing that Magda was far more dangerous than she had anticipated.

To Micheal and Vivian who couldn't see their faces, Magda appeared to offer kind reassurances.

Micheal's chest tightened, fearing she might believe the girl's act. A sinking feeling gripped him as he wondered if their budding connection was already shattered.

Magda stood abruptly, her expression unreadable. Magda turned her gaze to Micheal, her tone almost serene as she said, "Explain."

She knew he wasn't at fault, but the situation presented an opportunity she couldn't ignore. The Valorian blood in her veins carried its own quirks—after all, a dynasty doesn't endure for over 700 years on generosity alone. If she played this right, she might secure Micheal by her side forever.

Her eyes narrowed as she locked on to her elusive prey, a predator ready to strike.