In the garden, Setaro strolled in silence, brushing his fingers across a blooming flower—
until the sharp crack of a slap shattered the peace.
Sera spotted him first. A smirk tugged at her lips—Setaro, ever the nervous kitten.
But then her smile faded.
Maya Alison.
Asher's aunt. Setaro's mother.
Setaro looked up, stunned. Maya stood before him, fury etched across her features.
A rare Spirit Master—and he knew exactly why she was furious.
Yesterday, he had taken the key to Asher's old room in the Hall Mansion.
He had robbed his grandmother of her favorite spectacle, basking in Asher's fame among society ladies.
The same grandmother who once tried to throw out Sylvio—Setaro's father, her stepson, and now paraded Asher's name like a trophy.
How ironic.
A venomous grandmother.
A father obsessed with the family name.
Two younger sisters: one chasing wealth, the other chasing boys.
A mother who once loved her husband's stepbrother.
And him?
Always in Asher's shadow. Always second-best.
What a twisted life.
Seraphina's smirk vanished entirely.
She remembered Angela's cruel gossip: "Maya—unworthy of being a mother."
She and Asher used to mock Sylvio through Maya's name, feeding Angela's righteous fury.
They'd stayed far from the Hall and Nightshade mess—familiar with the drama but always choosing distance.
Yet seeing Setaro now, frozen after the slap, stirred something in her.
He could've dodged or shouted back. But he didn't.
Before Maya could raise her hand again, Seraphina caught her wrist mid-air.
Maya froze. Her mouth twitched into a brittle smile.
"Oh, Sera... It's you. Just disciplining my disobedient son."
Stay out of this. It's a family matter.
Seraphina's voice turned ice-cold.
"First, don't call me 'Sera.' We're not close. Second, I have only one mother-in-law—Angela Jonus. Third…"
She threw Maya's hand aside.
"This is Nightshade Manor. Only Nightshades have the right to discipline anyone here. Stray dogs don't bark in another's home."
Maya trembled with rage—but didn't retaliate. Not here. Not against her.
Seraphina turned to Setaro, gently cupping his face.
"Are you hurt?" she asked softly.
Setaro blinked, then nodded—just slightly. Ears flushing.
No one had ever protected him. No one had ever cared.
And now, the woman he admired most was treating him with kindness.
Maya's lips curled.
"Oh, my son… I didn't know you were such a little vixen. I knew you hated Asher, but I never thought you'd become his fiancée's slut."
Setaro flinched in disgust.
Seraphina's expression went blank. Dangerously blank.
A splash of water struck Maya's head. Then another. Then, a torrent drenched her.
Seraphina smirked.
"Seems Mrs. Hall didn't understand the first time."
Her voice dripped venom.
"You don't question me—my character, my choices, or my interest. Especially not here."
Maya stood speechless. Humiliated.
Seraphina stepped closer. Her voice dropped to a chilling whisper.
"Don't provoke my passion. I'm not a kind person… and you know that."
With a flick of her fingers, a final wave blasted Maya out of the manor gates.
Silence.
Setaro cleared his throat.
"Thanks… but don't interfere next time," he muttered. "I can handle it. I just wanted to stop my mom from causing a bigger scene. One slap won't break me."
Seraphina frowned. "It's not about the slap—"
"I don't feel anything from her words," he cut in.
Her gaze narrowed, and her tone softened.
"You don't feel anything… or it just doesn't hurt anymore? You don't care… or you've gotten used to it?"
Setaro fell silent.
Seraphina walked ahead, bathed in golden light. Hands behind her back, she inhaled the garden air.
"Your name is... Setaro, right? Hmm. It sounds nice."
He couldn't look away. Seraphina's presence dazzled him. Her voice made him ache for something he couldn't name.
He opened his mouth to speak—
But she turned, locking eyes with him.
"If I've learned anything from my past, Setaro, it's this:
Live for yourself. Stand for yourself.
It's not about fighting back—it's about finding peace.
Sometimes, we play the game, even if it's dull.
Not to beat the world…
But to overcome ourselves."
She smiled—radiant, powerful—
And vanished in a flicker of light.
Setaro stood rooted in place.
Then, a quiet laugh escaped him.
"Maybe I haven't been living… but I will now.
Because today, someone like you saw me."
High above, on the balcony, Dominic watched silently. Arms crossed. Eyes narrowed.
"These Hall sons…" he muttered bitterly.
"Can they truly find no one else? Must it always come down to my daughter?"
His gaze drifted to the horizon. A faint smile tugged at his lips—a memory.
Selena.
Once, he had stolen the Hall's precious princess.
And now, it was his daughter who was at risk.
He sighed.
"Karma's a bitch."
That night, at dinner…
Everyone had gathered. Seraphina arrived last.
She wore a soft pastel green gown, gentle as spring grass.
Detached sleeves framed her arms; thin straps revealed her pale neck and collarbones.
A high waistline, cinched with a floral sash, echoed her deep bond with nature.
Her hair was braided into twin ropes—one resting on her shoulder, one trailing down her back.
No makeup. Just crystal earrings and a single ring.
That ring.
Rose-gold vines cradled a luminous central gem.
Shimmering leaf motifs curled along the band, spring, frozen in time.
It radiated timeless romance and quiet, mystic power.
Her engagement ring.
Not just jewelry.
An heirloom. A magical artifact.
Never to be removed.
She entered with quiet calm.
Dimitry kept stealing glances, squirming in his seat.
Demiska still looked pale from that morning.
Setaro had gone home.
Master Nightshade cleared his throat.
"Sera is sixteen now. You've learned enough magic. It's time to contribute to the family business."
Everyone knew—Seraphina was the future of the Nightshade legacy.
She had rejected that path once.
Now that she was using magic again, many assumed she'd finally give in.
Power-hungry relatives from the second and third bloodlines circled like vultures.
Seraphina sighed.
"I told you. That's not my path. I'll build something of my own—or take what's mine."
Demiska, quietly, felt a wave of relief.
Others were less pleased.
Forrest scoffed, "If you do this, one day you'll be abandoned by Nightshade."
Harsh—but laced with concern, as he was her older brother.
Still calm, Seraphina set down her fork and replied:
"Then so be it. My surname will always be Nightshade.
I don't fear abandonment. If anything, I'll be the one doing the abandoning."
Master Nightshade paled in disappointment.
Michele and Forrest clenched their jaws.
No one argued.
Dominic said nothing.
He had long stopped caring for tradition.