“Nyx, Lux, I brought you your favorite food.” Matteo’s eyes sparkled with joy as he unwrapped the cloth filled with chunks of raw meat. “I managed to get some extra for you two today.”
The two snow leopard cubs bounced over to take the food. A week ago, Stella had decided to introduce Matteo to the two cubs for the first time. Initially, they’d been wary of his presence, and it had only been a matter of time before they warmed up to him. While she watched him play with the cubs, Stella kept one hand resting on the letter she’d received from Lisette.
She’d been nervous and anxious to open it since yesterday.
A few days after her duel with Luke, Lisette had come to her with good news: a letter, in pristine condition, delivered a few days ago to Stella’s PO Box. At last, two weeks of waiting had come to an end. In her hand was a response from Flora. Unable to conceal the nervousness in her blue eyes, she broke the seal to read the contents quietly, shielded from the sun by the branches and leaves.
[It has been several months since I heard from you.
I thought, by now, you might’ve forgotten about me and moved on.]
The moment Stella read the first line, relief washed away the tension she had carried all morning. This time, unlike her previous life, she had succeeded in holding on to her dear anonymous friend. The young Albrecht had shared with Flora how she had been caught up in the predicament and hadn’t had the chance to write back until now.
Of course, she left out the part about her father’s passing.
[Hey, you should be proud of me for picking up The Heart of Northland to read in my leisure time, as you suggested. I'm also intrigued that the history of our nation is portrayed so accurately in the romance novel…]
Flora’s usual updates followed, consisting of her hobbies, small curiosities she had stumbled across, and little things she hadn’t gotten around to sharing yet. They were ordinary, the kind of details that might bore anyone else. But to Stella, they spoke of her character. After years of letters, one of the few things she knew for certain was that her anonymous friend was an omega, close to her in age.
[Nonetheless, you’re not supposed to cheat. Wasn’t it you who made a bold promise to figure out my identity? What’s the fun for me in revealing it myself?]
“Ugh, it’s not like I don’t want to try.”
In the last letter, Stella tried her luck and asked Flora outright who she was. Then she breathed out a sigh of frustration. It’s not that the alpha didn’t want to—she couldn’t, not with her circumstances demanding her undivided attention. Furthermore, time wasn’t on her side. Once her friend came of age, less than a year from now, Stella would lose this window to find her. Her eyes drifted over the paper until the very last word before she folded the letter back into its envelope. She breathed out a quiet sigh and a soft smile touched her lips. Through ordinary conversations in the letter, it left her with a rare sense of comfort and peace.
In this life, she'd been given the chance to reach Flora again. It had been so long since she'd last felt this kind of eager anticipation.
“I wonder what I should write back to her.” She whispered to herself, then rose to her feet.
The black-haired noble walked up to the cubs and played with them for a while before they needed to return to the manor. Stella had yet to introduce the cubs to Ophelia, but she intended to bring her here in the near future at the right time.
Standing in the nautical twilight, Stella was greeted by a howling breeze that crept through the gaps of her clothing. She waited by the entrance of the Chevalier estate, bundled in a warm cape and leather boots. With every breath, white puffs of mist curled into the air. Stella had tied her hair back into a neat ponytail, fitting for such a special occasion. Above her, the sky was deep indigo, its sea of radiant stars beginning to soften as dawn approached. From the eastern horizon, a glow of cobalt spread across the sky, casting just enough ambient light to make out her surroundings.
Her serene blue eyes followed the servants hurrying back and forth, preparing carriages and luggage for the Chevalier members of the main branch attending this year’s First Snow Hunt. They had been up hours before anyone else.
She leaned against the white carriage covered with intricate scarlet and gold patterns—a clear display of luxury and wealth. Beside her stood the young pink-haired alpha who had arrived early with her. After a long wait, both Stella and Matteo turned toward the entrance to see Ophelia, fully bundled, with one of her luxurious fur capes draped over her shoulder.
“When are we departing?” Stella asked, her arms crossed.
“Shortly after the final round of checks,” Ophelia answered, walking up to her fiancée. “Stand still. I have a gift for you.”
“Hm?”
Stella watched as the pink-haired lady held what looked like a neatly folded ivory cravat. After giving it a light shake to unfold it, she draped it around Stella’s neck. The alpha tensed up, but didn’t pull away. Ophelia tied the cravat with practiced ease, tightened it just enough, and smoothed the creases with her fingertips. Stella’s eyes quickly noticed the pattern; the silky ivory cravat was embroidered with lavender flowers—clearly chosen for what they meant.
“Perfect.” She said, smirking, then gave a subtle, satisfied nod. “We finally match.”
She lifted her right wrist to proudly display her favorite white gold bracelet with a star trinket—the one Stella had given her for her birthday. To wear something bearing your partner’s name or scent was its own quiet claim. A mark announcing who they belonged to.
“Do you like it?” Ophelia said, her lips still curled as though already anticipating Stella’s reaction. “I embroidered it myself.”
“What?” Stella’s voice jumped slightly, her eyes locking on the cravat. “You embroidered this?”
Questions invaded her mind. When had Ophelia found the time, when the two of them spent nearly every waking hour together? Except for when they were in the academy. Stella’s fingers brushed over the embroidery, tracing the tiny ridges where the thread overlapped. No words were uttered as she was awestruck at the intricacy of it. Stella could only describe it as perfection. Each stitch was deliberate and precise. Not a single thread of silk had been wasted.
“Well?” Ophelia pressed. “Surely this deserves some praise. I put a considerable effort into making it for you, when I could have spent that time on something far more productive.”
She went on commenting on the quality of the thread she had handpicked and the meaning behind each shade of purple chosen for her masterpiece. Stella listened in silence, wanting to say something, but she wasn’t able to form words. Something tightened in her throat, forcing her to swallow hard. This might have been the first sentimental gift Ophelia had ever given her, not even in her previous life. A handmade one. The omega hardly needed to explain because the embroidery spoke for itself.
“…Thank you. It’s beautiful.” Stella nearly stuttered, but at least she managed to find the right words to express her gratitude. Fortunately, the twilight hid the pink tint creeping up her ears. “I genuinely appreciate this gift. I promise I’ll take great care of it.”
“Of course you will.” Ophelia lifted her hand toward Stella, palm faced down, as though inviting the alpha to take it. “You'll wear it for the entire hunt. I want every guest to know you belong to me.”
“…Whatever you say.” Stella exhaled quietly and closed her fingers around Ophelia's, guiding her up into the carriage. Thirty minutes before dawn, they departed the Northland capital, heading northeast.
It would take around three hours to arrive at their destination—the Silverwood Forest located beside Rothley Town.
The First Snow Hunt—
It was one of Northland's oldest and most distinguished noble traditions, held at the close of autumn, when the first snow descended upon their land. Attendance was limited to the main family of each house, with only the highest-ranking among them granted the honor of hosting. This year, for the first time, the hunt was extended to two days, which meant an overnight stay at the campsite.
After hours on the road, the carriage gradually rolled to a stop. Just as Stella anticipated, with the Chevalier being the host this year, the event had been taken to another level entirely, with their immense wealth on full display. Walking through the campsite, luxurious large white tents stretched in every direction, and Chevalier servants and Fiennes guards occupied every corner she looked.
“I know that the Chevalier would elevate the standards of the hunt…but not to this extent.”
Stella said the moment she stepped inside the tent shared between her, Matteo, and Ophelia. Everything around her screamed luxury, from the entrance to the bedroom zones, the wardrobe, and the bathtub. With the campsite positioned near one of the rivers, they wouldn’t run out of water. All they had to do was inform the servants, and they could bathe comfortably in warm water to their heart’s content. It was as though Stella hadn’t taken a single step outside the Chevalier estate.
“Father wants to make sure all our esteemed guests get the rest they deserve after their long travels,” Ophelia replied, then she turned to order the guards on where to place their luggage and belongings.
Shortly after they had settled in from the long trip, Emily arrived at their tent bearing an important instruction from Marquis.
“Milady, the guests have begun to arrive.” Emily lowered her head as she stood beside Ophelia. “His Lordship requests that you and Lady Stella welcome the guests that just arrived…”
“Who might that be?”
Emily took half a step closer, her voice dropping too low for Stella to hear. Clearly, Marquis’s orders were only meant for Ophelia’s ears alone.
“…Very well, then.” Ophelia turned her head toward Stella and Matteo. “You two, follow me. We have important duties to do.”
“You mean using us to welcome the guests?” Stella shot back casually.
“Precisely.” Ophelia’s reply came unhurried and nonchalant. “I have to make good use of you.”
“What a cruel woman you are. Not even a moment to rest.” Stella sighed, followed by a shrug, before carrying herself toward her fiancée. She lifted her arm slightly, an open invitation for Ophelia to take. “Shall we get moving? I thought it might be inappropriate for the host to keep the guest waiting.”
Her smirk widened, laced with satisfaction. Stella was certain she heard a soft chuckle slip from Ophelia’s lips as she linked her arms with hers. They walked through the campsite, with Matteo and Emily following a few paces behind.
Perhaps owing to her combat experiences, Stella had developed heightened senses, allowing her to notice a few pairs of eyes watching them from afar, careful not to draw attention to themselves.
“You are never to leave my side, no matter what. Understood?”
Cutting through the noise around them, Stella was close enough to catch Ophelia’s soft yet stern order. Neither of them looked away from the path ahead, maintaining a natural appearance.
“…As I always told you for the past months,” Stella whispered back at the same volume. “Even when the opportunity presents itself before me, I won’t leave your side. That’s a promise.”
The stubborn alpha intended to reassure the omega as many times as necessary until she finally accepted it. Moments after she replied, she felt the grip on her arm tighten for a split second before relaxing again. Stella didn’t pry further. Her subtle response was answer enough.
“…We’ll see how well you can keep that promise,” Ophelia said with a widened smile. “Because they are there.”
When they arrived at their destination, several carriages were parked near the entrance, and Chevalier servants were occupied with transporting the guests’ belongings to their respective tents. Stella’s eyes swept across the carriages, lingering on them longer than usual. Her eyes widened as the familiar emblem came into view—the crossed swords and sabretooth emblem belonged to the House Valens.
“…!”
As they approached the carriage, it was impossible for her not to notice their signature deep red hair. She recognized every individual in the group, and among the five figures, one stood out instantly.
Her long, deep burgundy hair fluttered gently in the breeze. Despite being a beta in her early forties, she possessed an undeniable commanding presence. Somehow, she made even the guards straighten their backs and tense up unconsciously.
Gallant. Dignified. Exactly as Stella remembered. Age had changed nothing.
…She’s no one other than Commander Alicia Valens, her mother.
Stella counted the silence, then the quiet exhale followed. This was what Ophelia meant earlier, testing her resolve before the family she had grown up with. The couple drew closer to the group before their presence was made known.
“Welcome to the First Snow Hunt, esteemed members of the Valens family.” Ophelia’s voice carried quiet confidence, gaining their attention almost promptly, before she lowered herself into a perfect bow, lifting her dress slightly. “I trust your journey here was a pleasant one.”
Eyes turned to Ophelia first, then they quickly found the black-haired figure beside her. The adults were able to conceal their surprise better than others, not Stella’s cousins—Fiona and Aston. Their gaze widened on Stella. This included her mother, staring straight at her with those razor-sharp blue eyes, laced with disbelief.
“Thank you for your warm welcome, Lady Ophelia of Chevalier.”
The middle-aged man with dark red hair stepped forward, offering a cordial bow. He was Count Valens, who happened to also be Stella’s maternal uncle. His composure remained absolute, concealing his surprise behind a gentle gaze that eventually found his niece.
“I'm glad to find you well, Stella.” Count Valens’s tone was stoic, yet carried the tenderness of someone speaking to their own blood. “How have you been faring?”
“Yes, I’m well. Thank you for asking, uncle.” Something warm shifted inside Stella’s chest, and she allowed her lips to curl into a tender smile.
After their fleeting reunion, Ophelia led them to their tents to settle in. Carrying herself with unhurried grace, the omega confidently recited every detail they needed to know, adding that if anything was lacking, the Chevalier servants would be glad to help.
“We hope you'll make yourselves at home and find your accommodations to your liking,” Ophelia concluded her explanation with a diplomatic smile, standing tall, head held high. “If there are no further questions, Stella and I must take our leave now. More guests will be arriving shortly.”
“Wait.”
Just as they were about to leave, Fiona Valens, daughter of Count Valens, strode forward. Her brunette hair caught the light as she stood before the couple, wearing a cheerful smile.
"Stella, do you have some time later?" She asked, her tone unhurried and natural. It's been a while since we last caught up."
The young Albrecht counted the silence. One. Two…and three. No reaction from Ophelia. Then a small smile gradually found her lips.
“I'm afraid I can't.” Stella shook her head before declining her cousin’s invitation. “I have to stay with Ophelia the entire time.”
“H-Huh?”
Something shifted in the air, subtle yet noticeable. Fiona blinked, and for a moment the surprise on her face was too genuine to hide. It wasn’t the answer that caught her off guard, but it was how she had said it, without a trace of hesitation. She sounded like she meant it.
"That would be my fault, I'm afraid."
Ophelia's arm linked with Stella's, and her hand came to rest on her alpha’s shoulder with ease. What surprised Fiona even more was how relaxed her younger cousin seemed. Not a flicker of tension in those shoulders, no resistance in the omega’s touch. This wasn’t like Stella Albrecht that she knew at all.
"These past few weeks at the academy left us very little time for each other." A light chuckle escaped Ophelia’s lips, almost apologetic. "I hope you'll forgive me. I find myself not quite ready to share Stella just yet. We must leave now."
Stella dipped her head once and turned away with Ophelia, their arms still linked. Not once did the alpha look back, not at Fiona, not at any of them. With every step, the distance between them and the Valens grew. The warmth in her eyes moments ago was now gone, replaced by a quiet hostility she did her best to hide the moment she arrived.
The family settled in, making themselves comfortable in their tent, all except for the two young adults who were clearly agitated by what had happened earlier. Everyone here attended this year's hunt out of formality and obligation, but none of them expected to meet Stella, who was now held captive under Chevalier’s roof.
“I’m honestly quite surprised…That doesn’t sound like Stella we know at all.” Aston Valens, a young crimson-haired man, broke the silence as he stood beside his younger sister. He was still unsettled by how Stella had pushed them away to stay at Ophelia's side. “As if she’s not being held captive against her will.”
“Who knows what that witch did to our Stella?” Fiona shot back, her jaw tightened with brewing frustration. “I swear if she had done something to her, I’ll make sure she pays—”
“Fiona.”
Absolute silence followed instantly. Fiona’s body tensed on reflex the moment her aunt cut her off mid-sentence. Alicia leaned against the backrest of her seat, sipping her tea languidly. In contrast to the two young, feisty Valens siblings, the beta woman showed little to no concern over the discussion.
“We’re just here for the First Snow Hunt, nothing else.” Alicia cut straight to the chase, sparing no small talk or explanation. “Whatever unfolds, that’s not our business to intervene in. Stella made it clear that she doesn’t want our help.”
“W-What are you saying, Aunt Alicia?”
Fiona was bewildered, unable to understand what she heard. Of everyone here, Alicia was the one most worried about the young Albrecht, yet she seemed most indifferent among them all.
“This is Stella we’re talking about! Of course, we didn’t expect that she’d be here too, and this might be our golden opportunity—”
“That’s enough, Fiona. We understand your frustration, but your aunt is correct.”
Count Valens interjected, resting his firm hand on his daughter’s shoulder to calm her. He glanced over at Alicia, sipping her tea without a care in the world, before turning his gaze to his children. Unlike his twin sister, Andre was far gentler with his words. There was no chance the Chevaliers weren’t watching their every move. Even now, he could feel pairs of unseen eyes keeping them under surveillance. Hence, the wisest course was to do nothing. He reminded them that the hunt would begin in less than two hours, with both Aston and Fiona representing the Valens family this year.
“We’re here just for the hunt, and that should be our only focus. Get as much rest as you can, understood?”
“Yes, father.” Both siblings nodded, though their words came out stiffer than they intended.
Fiona was clearly against the order, but obeyed anyway. As the count accompanied his children back to their tent to rest and prepare, silence settled over the space. Alicia let out a soft sigh as she brought the rim of the cup to her lips.
“It seems Stella is doing fairly well, better than we thought. That’s a relief, at least.”
Beside Alicia was another alpha member of the House Valens, a woman in her early thirties quietly enjoying the tea with her. Roxanne Valens—the fifth member of the group, cousin to Alicia and Count Andre. Known for her formidable combat skills and instincts, she served as one of the commanders in the Knight Order of Northland. She had been accompanying Count Valens and his family as their personal guard whenever he had to depart from the county.
“Well, I raised her to be capable of looking after herself.”
A soft smirk touched Alicia’s lips as quiet pride flickered within her eyes. Her mind recalled that pair of serene blue eyes that locked with hers—transparent and resolute. Truth be told, she was a little taken aback. Those eyes didn’t belong to an oppressed captive.
“Hm, I can see something is still on your mind.” Roxanne noticed how oddly quiet Alicia had become, as though her mind was clearly elsewhere. “Care to share?”
“There is something I must confirm.” Alicia’s gaze drifted from the cup to meet with Roxanne’s. “Can you do it for me?”
“Is that even a question?” Roxanne chuckled, setting her cup down on the table. “Once I find out her position is in the campground, I’ll let you know.”
“Don’t get caught, Roxanne,” Alicia smirked and shrugged. “There are many pairs of eyes on us.”
“You know I’m good with moving discreetly.”
Roxanne rose and left the tent, leaving Alicia to her peace. She breathed out a quiet sigh, her thoughts refusing to settle. Something about her daughter didn’t sit right, as though there was a puzzle piece that refused to fit the picture. To confirm her suspicions, she would need to find a way to speak with Stella again, alone.
Shortly after the couple left the Valens’ tent, Ophelia’s arms remained linked with hers. Then she proceeded to walk Stella through the schedule in detail, along with their duties as the hosting family. Marquis Chevalier had appointed his children to personally welcome each noble family, especially high-ranking and influential ones, such as the Valens. A few families had yet to arrive, so the couple had to station themselves by the entrance of the campground until further notice from the Marquis.
“Father wished for us to welcome the Valens and Chaplin personally.” Ophelia’s green remained forward. “He believed you might miss your family and wished for you to greet them.”
“How generous of the Marquis,” Stella replied, almost scoffing.
Clearly, the young alpha saw through Marquis’s true motive. It had never been out of empathy. It was a thoughtful yet cruel test meant to gauge her behavior and loyalty toward Ophelia. This surely wouldn’t be the first and last test the Chevaliers had in store for her.
“Nonetheless…I didn’t think you had it in you to be so cruel to your own family, Stella.”
A playful chuckle escaped between Ophelia’s lips. She made no attempt to conceal her smirk laced with satisfaction. If she were being honest, she hadn't thought Stella was capable of turning her family away without hesitation.
“Oh? Would you have preferred I accept Fiona’s invitation?” Stella kept her eyes fixed ahead, matching Ophelia’s energy with an additional sprinkle of sarcasm of her own. “I was under the impression someone might sulk if I didn’t spend enough time with her.”
“My, how thoughtful of you.” Ophelia replied, still grinning. “Someone’s tongue is getting sharper.”
By the time they returned to the campsite entrance, it was already bustling with people. Several families had arrived at once, and Stella recognized several faces in the crowd immediately. Many of her friends and colleagues from the academy would be invited to this annual hunt as well. As the couple approached the Chaplin’s carriage, they found the middle-aged couple mid-conversation with one of Fiennes’ guards, unaware of their arrival. The couple dipped into a bow, greeting both the Marquis and Marchioness of Chaplin. While Ophelia spoke with them, composed and confident, Stella found herself drifting deeper into her thoughts.
Marquis Raymond Chaplin—a man with absolute integrity and transparency.
The Associate Justice of the Northland Supreme Court. One of her father’s most trusted men and holder of one of the three original copies of Cedric’s will. Stella could say, without a doubt, that he was the strongest ally that she could ever hope to have on her side. Perhaps he was the only man in Northland who was unafraid to put wrongdoers behind bars in the name of justice, even if that person bore the Albrecht name. At last, she had the chance to meet him in this life.
“It is good to see you again, Lady Stella.” Perhaps the Marquis noticed her staring; his eyes eventually found hers. Calm and poised, he dipped his head with a cordial smile. “You’ve grown much since the last time I saw you.”
“The pleasure is mine, my lord Marquis.” Stella returned his greeting with a bow. “I’m glad to see you well.”
“Oh? Stella, it is good to see you’re here too!” Kenric spotted his friend, striding over promptly. He turned to the pink-haired lady beside the alpha, one hand placed over his chest, and dipped his head. “How do you do, Lady Ophelia.”
“How do you do, Lord Kenric.” Ophelia returned his greeting with a bow; a smile of near-perfect hospitality curled on her lips.
Moments after the greeting, a slightly older man with dark gray hair approached, standing beside Kenric with familiarity. Stella met his gaze and recognized the older man at once: Bernard Chaplin, the elder brother and the heir to the marquisate.
“You must be Lady Stella. Kenric and Elaine have spoken very highly of you.” Bernard extended his hand with ease. Those pale blue eyes were exactly as she remembered. Clear and frank, without a hint of pretense. “Bernard Chaplin. It is an honor to make acquaintances with you.”
"The pleasure is mine as well, Lord Bernard." Stella met his handshake firmly. "Stella Albrecht."
Following the script, the couple guided the esteemed Chaplin family to their accommodations with practiced hospitality before taking their leave. As Stella and Kenric stood at the front, casually chatting, two young ladies spotted them from a distance.
“Oh, look who just arrived!”
Both turned toward the voice to find Astrid and Lisette approaching. They had just arrived shortly before Kenric’s family. Easing into the conversation with her friends, Stella’s lips curled into a soft, unguarded smile.
“I’m glad to see all of you here.” Stella said, arms crossed. “Was it a rough journey this morning?”
“I don’t know. I slept the whole way, and it was a good sleep.” Astrid shrugged, prompting light laughter from her friends. “What?? I stayed up last night finishing the assignment from Professor Agnes, okay?”
“That is Astrid for you,” Kenric said, his hands resting on his hips. “Nonchalant as always.”
“Enough about me, will you??” Astrid cleared her throat, then turned to Stella, eyes narrowed with a suspicious-looking smirk. “I’m far more interested in that gorgeous cravat you’re wearing.”
“Huh?”
All eyes turned to Stella, studying the embroidered ivory cravat at her collar. Beautiful lavender print, hand-stitched. It only took them a moment to guess who had given it to her—there could be only one. Their stares and silence that followed made Stella’s shoulders tense, an odd bashfulness creeping over her. Just before her friends could press further, Ophelia’s voice cut through.
“Stella, we’re leaving.”
She turned to see her fiancée standing with her arms crossed, and a quiet sigh of relief slipped past her lips. Stella felt surprisingly relieved for the interruption, cutting her conversation short before taking her leave. The moment she turned away, she was certain she heard someone click their tongue—most likely Astrid.
Fortunately, Ophelia told her they could rest before the opening ceremony, set to begin in an hour. As they made their way back, Stella swept her gaze left and right, but the young pink-haired boy was nowhere to be found.
“Occupied with father’s orders, just like us,” Ophelia said, her tone composed. “He can take care of himself. We will meet him back at the tent.”
On their way back to the tent, the anxiety knotted quietly in Stella’s stomach, slipping past her composed exterior. Though her body paced beside Ophelia, firm and steady, her mind had wandered elsewhere. The knot in her stomach tightened with each passing hour. Meeting her family posed no challenge to her. There was only one person she hoped, above all else, never to encounter under any circumstances.
Faint. It should’ve been unnoticeable from this distance. Yet, it found her anyway.
“—!!”
A fine thread of sweet scent touched her nose, her senses lurched, and Stella’s legs froze mid-step. Her heart slammed against her ribs. Each beat pounded in her eardrum, drowning out everything else, including whatever Ophelia was saying. Something fluttered wildly in her stomach. Her blue eyes turned and fixed on one direction.
There was no mistaking it—Linda.
Even from this distance, Stella recognized that familiar silhouette in an instant. Silky, pastel-orange hair drifted gently in the wind.
Peach fragrance—smooth and rich. With another breath, her sweet scent hit straight into her lungs, and something close to a firework sparked in her chest.
Heat swallowed her face and ears. The moment that pair of pastel-green eyes found her, something close to a fated thread emerged between their souls. Their emotions bled into one another, shared between them. Stella felt it all—surprise, joy, relief, yearning, love, and more.
The young alpha forced every muscle in her body to move. She tried, multiple times, again and again, but the harder she resisted, the more her resolve dissolved. It was as though she had been placed under an unbreakable spell, unable to tear her eyes from Linda.
Darkness flooded her vision until only Linda remained.
The world went quiet—just the two of them and no one else. This magical touch was something that no one could understand. It belonged only to them. Stella watched Linda’s lips part, forming her name.
‘Stella’
She missed it. Every time Linda said her name, it filled her heart with something akin to blooming fireworks. Her presence and smile never failed to lift every burden from Stella’s shoulders. The years they had spent together were some of the happiest moments of her life. Everything felt perfect. It was meant to be. Then, a mysterious force surged through her veins, something wild and primal, carrying a desire of its own.
“…Linda.”
Stella’s lips parted, her tone soft and yearning. She missed her so much. So close. Her leg began to move, as though the fated thread were pulling them toward each other of its own will. She saw Linda mirror the same reaction, taking a step forward. Whatever was happening to her had overridden every part of conscious control. Just a little bit more. She is so close—
“—!!”
A violent jerk wrenched her back, and a heavy wave of lavender slapped against her senses, flooding her airways, coiling around her entire body. Ophelia’s fingers dug into her skin, gripping hard enough to hurt. Fortunately, it worked. The spell broke.
As the peach fragrance was swallowed away by Ophelia’s pheromones, clarity returned to her all at once. Stella turned, and her eyes found her fiancée. Ophelia’s expression gave nothing away, but her body language told a different story. She clutched onto the alpha, almost desperate, as though she was about to drift away. At this moment, none of Stella’s emotions were hidden—raw and unguarded.
“You certainly have the audacity to ogle another woman when I’m right here.” Ophelia’s smile remained, an unreadable flicker in her eyes. “Perchance, is Lady Linda your type?”
“…”
Her tongue went stiff. What was she supposed to answer? She hesitated for a moment before shaking her head. All she could do was steer the conversation elsewhere. Ophelia had yet to uncover that Linda was her soulmate, and that was the one thing she could never find out.
“…There’s nothing to worry about. She’s my childhood friend.” Stella said with a practiced smile. She quietly reminded herself not to give anything away. Just act natural. Act normal. “We should head back to the tent. I’m quite tired from the travel and the walk.”
“Hmm…” Ophelia murmured, her tone low and soft. “Wise choice.”
She tugged Stella’s arm, pulling her forward. But just before she could breathe a sigh of relief, the couple was stopped again.
“Wait—” Linda’s voice rose behind them. Her footsteps grew louder and closer. “Stella…!”
They paused mid-stride. Stella shuddered, her shoulders tensed as she pressed her lips together. Linda was standing right behind her. She wished she could turn around and stride over to her, but she couldn’t. Ophelia glanced over her shoulder and found the young omega catching her breath; Linda’s eyes fixed on Stella.
“Don’t you want to greet your childhood friend?” Ophelia glanced at Stella from the corner of her eye, her expression still and unreadable. “She’s calling for your attention.”
“…Let’s go.” Stella replied under her breath with great effort, avoiding her question entirely.
“Very well then.” Ophelia pulled her in closer. A soft chuckle followed.
With every deliberate step, Stella pushed herself forward, matching Ophelia’s pace. The greater the distance between her and Linda, the easier it became to breathe. Little by little, the heat scorching her body gradually faded with the calm fragrance of morning lavender, soothed by every breath she drew in.
However, Stella barely noticed that detail. She was too consumed by something…close to fear.
Ever since she traveled to the past, there had been moments she doubted herself, but nothing had ever shaken her this badly. This was the first time she felt her resolve was about to slip through her fingers. Whatever she experienced had shaken her to the core…and that terrified her.
Before the sun could reach its highest point, everyone began gathering at the heart of the campground, the assembly grounds. Representatives from each family, fully dressed and equipped, stood ready for the hunt. Stella’s eyes swept the field, recognizing other notable families: Montclair, Schwarzenberg, Rothschild, Haines, and Vernon. Stella stood with the two Chevalier siblings, off to the side and farther back, but with a clear vantage point of the stage.
“Good morning, everyone. I would like to personally thank you for attending this year’s First Snow Hunt.” Marquis Chevalier opened the speech, welcoming all esteemed guests. “As this is the first time we've extended the hunt to two days, the Chevalier family has ensured every guest receives the best hospitality they deserve. I hope you’ll make yourselves at home.”
It was clear the marquis didn’t hold back in spending his wealth to leave a lasting, favorable impression on every family in attendance. He delivered the kind of polished speech one expected from the hosting family before inviting the next speaker to the stage. He strode up onto the stage with all eyes on him, his glistening black hair catching the light.
“…!”
Memories from the distant past resurfaced: the last moment she had seen this man, whom Stella was no longer sure she could still call her brother. He stood before her, handcuffed, about to be transported to the Midland Penitentiary alongside Lady Yvette, both awaiting trial at the Midland Supreme Royal Court for their crimes. His bloodshot eyes said everything his words didn’t. The resentment he had carried for the majority of his life was aimed at Stella. Something close to rancor. Something close to jealousy.
“One regret I have is that I wish I had killed you sooner when I had the chance.
You don’t know how much I wished for your death, even at this moment.”
He spat those cruel, venomous words at the young duchess, as though expecting some kind of reaction. However, the young duchess gave him nothing. After everything that happened, he was more of a stranger to her now. All the love she once had for her dear brother was gone.
Stella’s gaze was fixed on the man on the stage. Just the sight of him stirred something dark inside her. His face bore a striking resemblance to their late father’s, but not a single speck of warmth was found in those deep violet eyes. Standing before her was the man behind Cedric's death.
Anthony Albrecht—the duke of Northland.
-///-
Once Stella inherited her rightful ducal title, one of the things she did in secret was conduct a thorough investigation of her father’s assassination. She already knew that Anthony and Yvette had colluded with the Chevaliers to orchestrate the assassination, staging it as an accident, and then altered Cedric’s will to make Anthony the rightful heir to the dukedom. However, that was the extent of her knowledge. Everything she knew had come secondhand, from what others had told her.
“Your Grace, Marquis Chaplin’s messenger has arrived and seeks an audience with you.” Frederick, the family's senior butler, entered her study and informed his master.
"Bring him in at once." Stella's order was immediate.
Seated in her study room, the duchess had been poring over stacks of reports since dawn. When the messenger arrived, he promptly handed her a thick brown folder containing the documents she had requested, the results of the investigation she had asked the marquis to carry out. Stella knew that uncovering what lay hidden would mean reliving her grief all over again, but it was the only way for her to make peace with Cedric’s death.
“Pass along my kind regards to Marquis Chaplin,” Stella said as the messenger lowered his head.
“Of course, Your Grace.” Once his task was completed, the messenger took his leave from the Albrecht estate.
Perhaps the god of luck was truly on her side. After exposing Anthony and Chevalier’s crimes, Albrecht seized all of Chevalier’s properties and belongings, including a store of hidden documents detailing the entire incident. It seemed Marquis Hugh had intended to use this information to blackmail and threaten Anthony sometime in the future should the need arise.
According to the reports, it was heavily implied that Marquis Hugh was the one who had introduced Anthony to mercenaries from a foreign land to carry out his bidding. They ambushed the carriage in the forest, in the middle of the night, killing every Albrecht escort and guard, and singling out Duke Cedric alone.
“…!!”
Stella’s eyes widened. Something close to despair flickered in her eyes. Her fingers tightened, crumpling the paper in her hand. What the duchess didn’t know was that Cedric hadn’t been killed by the assassins. They underestimated him. The duke had survived, single-handedly slaying every last one of them, but that left him gravely wounded.
He may have survived if he had received help in time.
According to one of Chevalier’s confiscated documents, one of Chevalier’s men had been present at the scene to document what happened. Thanks to Marquis Chaplin’s extensive network, he had successfully tracked the spy down to verify his account, and that report was now in her hands.
“Anthony…H-How…how could you…!”
Her vision distorted, warm tears pooling before rolling down the corners of her eyes. Her jaw clenched tight, hands and voice visibly shaken. A mix of despair and anger churned inside her chest, almost choking her. Somewhere in Stella’s heart, she had hoped that Anthony wasn’t directly involved or responsible for their father’s death. She wished he had some goodness left in his heart. She may be able to find a corner in her heart to one day forgive him.
However, the report in her hands extinguished that remaining hope she had.
Anthony had been there. He was the one who had made sure Cedric succumbed to his wounds, who had thrown their father’s body off the cliff, and who had taken their family’s heirloom from his hand.
When she closed her eyes, Stella could still recall the warmth of her father’s hand, how he used to lift Stella high into the sky, showering her with love even in the middle of his ducal duties. In her memories, Cedric was always smiling.
“Please don’t hate your brother, Stella. It is my fault that I failed to protect and keep him close to me when it mattered most.
I believe that one day, he will find his own light once again.
When that day comes, I want you and Blake to be there for him.
Unfortunately…my voice can no longer reach him. No matter how hard I’ve tried…”
Those had been his exact words, and that broke Stella’s heart all over again.
Even after everything Anthony had become, Cedric never once loved him less. He had often asked her not to hate him, insisting it wasn’t his fault that he had turned into the man he was now. Even though it was her father’s wish, Stella didn’t have a heart as big and compassionate as Cedric's or Blake's. How could she possibly forgive Anthony after everything he had done? It was impossible to forgive.
It would’ve been easier if he had asked her to hate him instead.