CHAPTER 6- Members of House of Nyxveil

**Life fucking sucks.**

The thought echoed in my mind like a curse, a mantra I couldn't escape. My eyes swept over the grand hall, taking in the sight of my so-called family.

The Nyxveils—a name that carried the weight of centuries, a legacy of power, ambition, and cold, unyielding pride. And there I stood, Selantia Nyxveil, the forgotten daughter, the shadow in their glittering world.

My father, **Zaphry Vael Nyxveil**, the 40th Duke of Nyxveil Duchy, loomed like a monolith of authority. His presence was a force of nature, commanding the room with an effortless dominance.

Though he appeared youthful, his green eyes—sharp as emerald blades—betrayed the depth of his experience. He was the man who shook the very foundation of the empire after all.

His golden hair, long and meticulously groomed, cascaded over his broad shoulders, catching the flickering candlelight. He was dressed in black silk, the fabric adorned with silver embroidery so intricate it seemed alive, shifting like shadows under the dim light. His cloak, heavy and lined with platinum threads, bore the insignia of House Nyxveil—the blue rose.

Around his neck hung a heavy cross, ancient and ornate, a relic that spoke of both divine favor and unspoken sins. His fingers, adorned with rings of rare gemstones, rested on the hilt of a sword sheathed at his side—a weapon as much a symbol of his power.

He was a man who bent the world to his will, a man who had no room for weakness. And yet, as his gaze fell on me, I saw something flicker in those cold eyes—something I couldn't quite place.

Disappointment? Annoyance?

Beside him stood my mother, **Duchess Althea Noctis Nyxveil**, a woman whose beauty was something for which empires would fall.

Her deep navy-blue hair, woven into an elaborate updo, was crowned with a diadem of gold and sapphires, each gemstone catching the light like fragments of the night sky.

Her gown, midnight silk embroidered with constellations, clung to her figure with an elegance that spoke of both grace and power. A gossamer shawl, shimmering with celestial patterns, draped over her shoulders, as though she had plucked it from the heavens themselves. Her gray eyes, piercing and calculating, swept over me with scrutiny that made my skin crawl.

Then there was my brother, **Dain Obsidian Nyxveil**, the heir to the duchy. He stood tall and broad-shouldered, his youthful face marred by a faint scar that ran from his temple to his jaw—a mark of the brutal training our father had subjected him to.

His practice clothes, though simple, bore the crest of House Nyxveil—a red rose, its thorns sharp and unyielding. His boots, scuffed and dirty from hours of training, contrasted sharply with the opulence of the hall. He looked at me with a mixture of shock and confusion, his dark brows furrowed as though he couldn't quite reconcile the girl he knew with the woman standing before him.

And then there was **Alancia Serena Nyxveil**, my younger sister. She was the jewel of the family, the darling of the empire. Her beauty was ethereal, and her every movement was graceful and deliberate. 

Given how she was dressed, I wasn't sure if my fiance or her fiance was coming.

Her gown, a cascade of ivory silk and lace, made her look like a porcelain doll, fragile and perfect. Her hazel green eyes, wide and innocent, sparkled with a light that made it impossible to look away. She was the embodiment of everything I was not—delicate, cherished, adored. And as she looked at me, her lips curled into a sweet, innocent smile, which felt more like a mocking one. 

"What took you so long?" My father's voice cut through the silence, cold and sharp as a blade.

I met his gaze, my own expression unreadable. What could I say? That seeing you all is the last thing I wished for? That I fucking resent you for everything you hve done? That I had no idea how to navigate this world, this life, this family?

"Sister, you shouldn't ignore Father's words," Alancia chimed in, her voice sweet and melodic, her gaze clearly provoking me. I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms.

Don't lose your sh*t now, Selantia. You need to see just who the fuck your fiancé is.

I had always dreamed of love, of a family, of a life filled with warmth and happiness.

But this? This was not what I had envisioned. I had been thrust into a past I barely recognized, a world where I was nothing . And now, standing here, surrounded by the people who had shaped my life—and shattered it—I felt a wave of emotions I couldn't quite name.

Anger, confusion, and despair.

My mother's voice broke through my thoughts. "Selantia," she said, her tone distant and cold.

I looked at her, my expression blank. She blinked, her sapphire eyes widening slightly as though she had seen something unexpected.

Don't tell me I'm wearing my cold, indifferent face. If it were the younger me, I would have looked at her with a wide smile, my eyes full of stars. But that girl was gone, buried beneath layers of pain and regret.

"This dress suits you," she said, her voice softer than I had expected. I nodded, my tone flat. "You have good eyes for clothes, Her Excellency."

The room fell silent, the air thick with tension. My father's eyes narrowed, his lips pressing into a thin line. My mother's hand twitched, her rings glinting in the candlelight. Even Alancia looked stunned, her innocent mask slipping for just a moment.

"Y-you called me Her Excellency?" My mother's voice trembled, a rare crack in her composure. I didn't bother looking at her as I answered. "You dislike it when I call you mother or mom because it shows how impolite I am."

The words hung in the air, heavy and unspoken. My mother's face paled, her lips parting as though she wanted to say something but couldn't find the words. My father's glare intensified, his fingers tightening around the hilt of his sword. Even Dain looked uneasy, his usual confidence faltering.

I had always been the forgotten one, the daughter who was never quite necessary.

Alancia, with her delicate beauty and fragile health, had always been the center of attention. Dain, the heir, had been groomed for greatness from the moment he could walk.

And me? I had been raised by maids, knights, and kitchen staff—people who had shown me more kindness and love than my own family ever had.

The maids had sneaked me out of the mansion, letting me explore the world beyond its walls. The kitchen staff had taught me to cook, their laughter and warmth filling the void left by my parents' indifference. The knights had trained me, their gruff voices and steady hands guiding me through the hellish drills my father had designed. They had been my family, my protectors, my teachers. And I had failed them. I had failed to protect them when it mattered most.

My heart clenched, a sharp pain cutting through the numbness. I clenched my fists, my nails digging deeper into my palms. It was all because of you, Father. All because of your betrayal and greed.

"You must behave yourself in front of your fiancé, Selantia." my father's voice cut through my thoughts, cold and commanding. The massive doors began to creak open, the sound echoing through the hall.

"You don't need to worry about my behavior, His Excellency," I replied, my tone dripping with hostility. I could feel his glare on me, sharp and unyielding.

Beyond the door stood my fiancé—a man I had never met, a man who held the key to my future. But as the doors swung open, my breath caught in my throat.

The man who stepped into the room was no stranger. His raven black hair, his piercing golden eyes, the cold, unyielding expression on his face—it was him. **Ezekian Seraphiel Nordwyn**, the man who had haunted my dreams and my nightmares.

"I can't believe Sister is getting married to Ezekian Seraphiel Nordwyn," Alancia whispered, her voice filled with awe.

"Yeah, nobody thought the same," Dain muttered, his tone equally shocked.

I felt my heart sink, a wave of emotions crashing over me.

Why? Why did it have to be him? Of all the people in the world, why did it have to be the man who had caused me so much pain, so much heartache? The man who had looked at me with cold, accusing eyes, who had hated me with a passion that burned brighter than the sun.

And yet, even in his hatred, he had never left my side. He had been there, in the darkest moments of my life, a constant presence I couldn't escape.