novelraw Chapter 121 : The Merchant’s Daughter
Chapter 121 : The Merchant’s Daughter
(Seris Revingale’s POV)
The rumor didn’t arrive like gossip usually does.
It didn’t start with whispers in the halls or giggles from the girls near the courtyard.
It came quietly — in the form of a few casual words from a group of upper-year students over tea.
“Did you hear? The Valemonts honored an old betrothal contract,” one said, her tone light, almost careless.
“Apparently their second son is promised to a merchant’s daughter. Some trader from the East. She joined the academy last term.”
The words hit like a pebble dropped into still water — small, but the ripples spread fast.
I froze, teacup halfway to my lips.
A merchant’s daughter?
I remembered the first time I visited Valemont with Elara, three years ago.
The dinner table had been warm, filled with laughter — until the topic turned to me.
Selene had smiled politely at first, but her eyes sharpened when Elara, trying to make conversation, mentioned Rooga’s fiancée.
“That girl again?” Selene had muttered. “Rooga and Seris—”
But Darius had cut her off, his voice calm but firm.
“Seris is not his betrothed. There was an old promise — to a merchant family that once helped our house during the famine. I honored it. Nothing more.”
That was all he said, but the silence after lingered.
Selene had looked down at her plate, displeased, and the matter never came up again.
Until now.
It didn’t take long for the news to spread through the academy halls.
Not from the Valemonts themselves, but from those connected to the merchant family.
The daughter’s companions — girls eager to climb the social ladder — dropped hints in every conversation.
They bragged that their friend’s fiancé was the son of Darius Valemont, the famed swordsman of the borderlands.
Others whispered that she might become Elara’s sister-in-law.
And, just like that, everyone suddenly wanted to be near her.
Connections mattered more than truth in places like this.
But no one stopped to think about what kind of boy this Valemont son truly was.
No one knew
him.Not like I did.
Her name was Leanora.
I found her sitting under the shade of the west garden arch, surrounded by a small group of girls who hung on her every word.
Her uniform was immaculate, her hair arranged perfectly — not a strand out of place.
Even from a distance, I could tell she didn’t belong here in the same way the rest of us did.
Her posture was practiced, her smile trained.
Pretty, but cold.
When I approached, the others parted instinctively.
“Leanora,” I greeted.
She turned lazily, her amber eyes landing on me. “Oh. Revingale, isn’t it? You must be here about the engagement gossip.”
“So it’s true, then?” I asked, keeping my voice even.
She laughed softly. “True enough, I suppose. My father arranged it years ago — some business favor with the Valemonts. He thinks marrying me off to their son will turn our trade into noble blood.”
Her lips curved, but her eyes were flat.
“I have no interest in farmers pretending to be aristocrats. The only reason I’m even at this academy is because my father bribed the administrative board. He wants me to ‘make connections.’”
She leaned closer, her tone dripping disdain.
“Frankly, I want someone intelligent, kind, someone who actually understands me. Not some brute from Valemont swinging a stick.”
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My chest tightened — anger, disbelief, something sharp.
But then, like a flicker, a thought came.
She didn’t even know his name.
Didn’t know his smile, his voice, the way he listened.
Didn’t know what kind of heart he had.
And maybe that was good.
Let her stay ignorant.
Let them all.
The less they knew about him, the safer he would be — away from greedy eyes and shallow hearts.
So I smiled — calm, practiced.
“You’re right,” I said softly. “Valemont men aren’t exactly the gentle type. I’ve met one before. He’s… certainly not what you’re looking for.”
Her brow lifted. “So you agree?”
“Completely.” I smiled wider. “He’s not for someone like you.”
She laughed, thinking it was solidarity. “Finally, someone sensible. Then maybe you’ll help me find someone better
.”“Better?” I asked.
She twirled a lock of her hair, smirking. “Prince Edmond, of course. You’re close to him, aren’t you? Help me get his attention.”
For a moment, I almost pitied her.
She had no idea.
No idea who Edmond’s heart already belonged to.
No idea that all her games and charm would crumble the second she met the sincerity of an Asterion heir’s love.
I hid a small smirk behind my hand.
“Sure,” I said softly. “I’ll lend a hand.”
She smiled, thinking she’d gained an ally.
But in truth, she’d just walked herself into a quiet illusion — one I was more than happy to maintain.
Let her chase her prince.
Let her dream of titles and crowns.
Because the boy she mocked — the one she called a brute from Valemont — didn’t belong to her world.
He belonged to the light she’d never understand.
The one that made me feel human again.
(Edmond Asterion’s POV)
The afternoon sun cut through the glass of the study hall, painting long slashes of light across the floor.
It was supposed to be a quiet day — paperwork, etiquette lessons, maybe a spar before dusk.
Instead, I found myself staring across the room at a girl I’d only just met.
Leanora, the merchant’s daughter everyone had been talking about.
She was polite enough — graceful even — but her words fell heavy with practiced sweetness. Every sentence sounded like a transaction.
Seris had arranged the meeting, smiling all the while like a hostess at a dinner party.
She stood just behind Leanora, quiet, calculating, letting the girl do the talking.
Leanora’s fan fluttered open as she spoke.
“I must say, Prince Edmond, I’ve admired the Asterion name for quite some time. Your family’s discipline and… refinement are so inspiring.”
“Is that so?” I replied, keeping my tone mild. “Most people find us rather dull.”
She laughed — too quickly. “Oh no, never dull. I find composure… attractive.”
I offered a small smile, the kind that said nothing and meant less.
Across the room, Seris stood with perfect posture, her face unreadable, eyes half-lidded as though she were bored with the whole charade.
I wondered what game she was playing this time.
After a few minutes of polite small talk about trade routes and academy dances, Leanora curtsied and excused herself.
Her smile was radiant — the smile of someone who believed she’d achieved something.
She left the room humming softly to herself.
And then there were two.
The door clicked shut behind her.
I didn’t bother turning around.
“I know what you did, Seris.”
A soft hum. “What did I ever do, your highness? I merely introduced you to someone new.”
Her tone was honeyed, but it didn’t fool me.
I finally looked at her. “You know I don’t care about her.”
She tilted her head, feigning innocence. “Then what do you care about?”
I stepped closer until only the desk separated us. My voice dropped to a low whisper.
“It’s not about her. It’s about you spreading rumors about my brother-in-law.”
That finally cracked her mask — a faint flicker in her expression.
I leaned in, my lips almost brushing her ear.
“Lazy, you said. The boy who healed a land while the rest of us played politics.”
Seris smiled again, slow and deliberate. “He’s not formally your brother-in-law, is he? Just Elara’s precious little brother.”
Her eyes narrowed, gleaming. “So what will you do? Report me to your lioness? Tell Elara that her best friend’s been whispering about her family behind her back?”
The words were venom, but she delivered them with velvet grace.
I straightened, meeting her gaze. “You’re clever,” I said. “But clever doesn’t mean untouchable.”
Her expression didn’t change, but I could see it — the faint tremor in her hand, the spark of something unhinged behind her calm eyes.
“So what if Elara doesn’t believe me?” I continued. “What about Rooga himself? What happens when he hears it? When he finds out the girl who smiled at him, who cared for him, was the one tearing him down behind his back?”
I let the words hang there, soft but sharp. “If that happened to me, I think it’d hurt worse than any sword.”
For the first time, Seris went completely still.
The light from the window carved half her face in shadow.
Her smile faded — not into guilt, but something colder.
When I turned to leave, her voice stopped me.
“If he ever hears about it…” she said quietly, “then my name will go down in history. Not as the daughter of Revingale, but as Seris — the one who killed the prince.”
The air froze.
I turned, slowly, and met her eyes.
There was no tremor, no hesitation.
Just the steady calm of someone who meant every word.
And for a long moment, we simply stared at each other — predator and prey, but neither certain which was which.
Then I nodded once. “You really have changed, Seris.”
She smiled faintly. “No, Prince Edmond. I’ve only learned what’s worth keeping.”