Change Is Coming

Vryne's gaze remained locked onto Solara's sharp teal-blue eyes, her irritation radiating off her in waves. Yet, as if she were nothing more than a passing stranger, he turned away, offering only a neutral greeting.

"Welcome, Lady Greysteel." His tone was polite but distant, as if their engagement was nothing more than a footnote in his life.

Solara scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "Hah… you really haven't changed, have you?" she muttered, shaking her head. "Even after all these years, you're still the same, aren't you, Vryne?"

Vryne—no, Dante—remained silent at her words. If she only knew how different he truly was now.

Inwardly, his mind raced, revisiting the twisted history between them.

Solara Van Greysteel, a prodigy from the prestigious Greysteel family, was a warrior born of iron and fire. She was a woman with dreams, aspirations, and the skill to carve her own legend as a magic knight. But fate, or rather, the will of two powerful families, had shackled her to the original Vryne.

The Drexsic and Greysteel families had sought a union of power and influence, sealing the deal with an arranged marriage between their heirs.

But the original Vryne… he had taken things further than anyone could have imagined.

He had mistaken obsession for love.

Instead of letting Solara forge her own path, he had sought to bind her to him by any means necessary.

Through deception and manipulation, he had blackmailed her, sabotaged her career, and spread false rumors of her infidelity—anything to make her dependent on him, to break her so she would have no choice but to rely on him alone.

He had called it love.

But in truth, it had been nothing more than twisted possessiveness.

Dante inwardly cringed, barely keeping his expression neutral. No wonder she had come to despise Vryne. In the novel, when she and the protagonist met at the academy, he would be the one to mend the scars Vryne had left on her life. He would help restore her honor, push her to new heights as a magic knight, and ultimately, she would fall for him.

And Vryne?

The truth of his manipulations would come to light, shattering the alliance between the Drexsic and Greysteel families forever.

Yet, despite all of this, Dante couldn't entirely blame the original Vryne. Because the novel had revealed something much darker—something that had pushed Vryne down that twisted path.

It was—

"Greysteel."

A voice sliced through the air like a blade, deep, cold, and utterly chilling.

Vryne's entire body tensed, a shudder involuntarily running down his spine.

A suffocating presence loomed over them, and even the very temperature of the air seemed to drop.

Solara turned first, her expression flickering with surprise before settling into something guarded. "Patriarch Drexsic," she greeted with a curt bow, her tone carefully neutral.

And then the voice addressed him.

"What's wrong, son?"

Dante swallowed thickly. He hadn't expected to meet him this soon.

Slowly, he turned his head toward the source of the voice.

Ivor El Drexsic.

The head of the Drexsic family.

The true antagonist of the novel.

And Vryne's father.

Standing at the entrance to the grand hall, Ivor exuded a presence so suffocating that even the most battle-hardened warriors would hesitate before speaking in his presence.

He was tall, towering over most men, his posture a perfect display of noble refinement and absolute authority. His tailored suit was a seamless blend of modern and regal designs, a deep charcoal-black with silver embroidery that traced intricate patterns of chains and swords—symbolizing the unbreakable will of House Drexsic. A long overcoat draped over his shoulders, its fabric lined with streaks of muted crimson, as if dipped in the blood of those who dared oppose him.

But what truly unnerved Dante was his eyes.

They were just like Vryne's—obsidian black—but darker, deeper, as if they could swallow everything in their gaze. There was no warmth in them. No love. Just a calculating coldness that stripped a person down to their very soul.

Dante had no choice but to lower his head and bow. "Father."

Ivor's gaze flickered over him before shifting to Solara.

"I trust your journey was safe, Lady Greysteel?" His voice remained level, but there was something unnerving about it—something that suggested he already knew the answer before she could even respond.

Solara straightened her posture, nodding. "It was."

Ivor hummed, his attention shifting back to Vryne.

Dante could feel the weight of that gaze pressing down on him. He had read countless scenes of Ivor's ruthlessness in the novel, but experiencing it firsthand was an entirely different matter.

This man—this monster—was the reason why Vryne had become the way he was.

Because in truth, the original Vryne had not always been obsessed with Solara.

He had been made that way.

Ivor Drexsic was not merely a father. He was an architect of control, a man who viewed his own son as nothing more than an investment.

A tool to be shaped.

A weapon to be wielded.

And Vryne?

He had been the result of years of conditioning, manipulation, and psychological warfare.

Every emotion, every desire, every dream that did not serve the family's interests had been stripped from him. Until all that remained was a hollow shell desperate to grasp onto something—anything—to prove that he was still human.

And Solara had been his last, desperate attempt to hold onto that humanity.

Dante gritted his teeth, keeping his head lowered.

He had no intention of following that same path.

But standing in front of him, Dante realized just how deep of a pit the original Vryne had been trapped in.

Ivor's gaze lingered for a moment before he finally spoke again.

"I expect you to be on your best behavior today, Vryne." His voice was smooth, yet there was an unmistakable undercurrent of warning. "We wouldn't want to disgrace the Drexsic name, would we?"

Dante forced himself to nod. "Of course, Father."

Ivor said nothing more. With a final glance at Solara, he turned and walked deeper into the manor, his presence lingering like a phantom even after he was gone.

The tension in the air remained thick, neither Vryne nor Solara speaking for a long moment.

Finally, Solara let out a sigh, running a hand through her fiery orange-and-blue hair.

"I don't know what's worse," she muttered, shaking her head. "Dealing with you or dealing with him."

Dante gave a small, humorless chuckle. "I'd have to agree with you there."

Solara frowned, tilting her head slightly. "Hah… you're acting strange today."

Dante met her gaze, his expression unreadable. "Strange?"

She studied him for a moment, her sharp eyes narrowing. "You're not acting like a spineless coward, nor are you acting like an obsessive creep." She crossed her arms. "It's almost like you're an entirely different person."

Dante's heart nearly stopped.

Had she noticed?

No. He couldn't afford to let her suspect anything.

So instead, he smirked faintly, keeping his voice as even as possible.

"Maybe I finally grew up."

Solara scoffed. "You? Grow up?" She rolled her eyes, but there was a hint of curiosity in her expression.

Dante merely shrugged. "You never know."

For a moment, there was silence. Then Solara sighed.

"Whatever," she muttered, turning on her heel. "I don't have time for whatever game you're playing. I just need to get through this visit without wanting to punch someone in the face."

Dante chuckled lightly. "Best of luck with that."

Solara didn't respond, but as she walked away, Dante could feel her lingering gaze on him, as if she were trying to figure out exactly what had changed.

He exhaled slowly, turning his own gaze toward the hall where Ivor had disappeared.

One thing was certain.

If he wanted to survive in this world, he would have to tread carefully.