Elaine Serrano POV:
The heavy oak door of my bedchamber clicked shut behind me, but it couldn't completely muffle the laughter and celebration coming from the main hall. In the dim corridor, my loyal personal maid, Phoebe, stood trembling in the shadows.
Without a word, she hurried to my side, draping a warm shawl over my shivering shoulders, and fell into step behind me as we walked down the freezing stone corridor.
The commotion had already drawn the night staff out of the woodwork. The servants, who used to bow so low their noses nearly touched the floor whenever I passed, now openly lined the hallway, not even bothering to hide their gloating stares or their malicious whispers.
"Did you hear? Lord Brian stripped her title. She's just a personal maid now," a scullery maid whispered loudly.
"About time. She's just a cursed Dragonless jinx anyway," a guard snickered, his eyes shamelessly raking over my silk gown.
I felt Phoebe shaking with rage behind me, but I didn't stop. In my past life, these whispers were like knives to my heart. Now, they were just the buzzing of flies destined for the slaughterhouse.
When I finally pushed open the door to my own chambers, the biting cold hit me instantly. The dragon-crystal heater was completely dead. Not a single spark of energy had been provided for the night.
The moment the door clicked shut, sealing us inside, Phoebe finally collapsed to her knees.
"My lady... how could he? How could Lord Brian do this?!" Phoebe sobbed, her fingers digging desperately into the cold floorboards. "He knew how much that night destroyed you! How could he use the slaughter of your family as a weapon to humiliate you in front of everyone?!"
Looking at Phoebe, my childhood companion who shared my deepest trauma, the last trace of patience in my heart vanished.
"Stand up, Phoebe," I said, my voice dropping to an eerie, frozen whisper. I knelt and gently wiped the tears from her face. "Tears cannot wash away the blood of our families. Brian said House Serrano is nothing but a dead graveyard. Then it is time we show him how the ghosts from that graveyard feast."
I stood up and walked to the row of massive dowry chests in the corner of the room. They were made of ironwood, unique to the North, and branded with my family's snow-wolf sigil.
This was everything I had brought from House Serrano. It was also my ticket out of this disgusting cage.
I opened one of the chests and took out a heavy ledger from a smaller box. My mother had left it to me. It recorded all the assets and connections of House Serrano.
By the light of the dragon-crystal lamp, I began to carefully inventory my dowry.
House Serrano. Once the strongest shield of the North, guarding the realm for the Raymond dynasty for generations.
A year ago, my father and six brothers died on the southern battlefield. Their dragonfire was extinguished when they were heavily surrounded. Shortly after, Veskarian assassins slipped through the broken defense line like ghosts, infiltrating our homeland. My mother, my sisters-in-law, and all the old and weak were brutally slaughtered in pools of their own blood.
The official story was that it was a mad act of revenge by the enemy for my father and brothers' past victories.
I had believed it. But now, in my second life, I knew it wasn't that simple.
Brittaney Kirk... her shadow loomed over that tragedy. Back then, it was Brittaney's elite Winged squadron that was supposed to reinforce my father. But they were mysteriously "delayed." Their delay cost the lives of my father and brothers, which allowed the assassins to breach the North.
In my past life, I thought it was a tragic accident. But after being burned alive by her dragonfire, a chilling realization crept into my mind: what if she had intentionally let my family die?
A sharp pain shot through my chest. I gripped the edge of the chest, gasping for breath. The fire of vengeance burned in my veins.
But it wasn't time for that. First, I had to escape this cage.
It wasn't just these material goods in the ledger. There were also eighty servants who had come with me to the Castro estate. They were born into the service of my house, loyal only to me.
Brian and the Castros all assumed that once I married into their family, these people and properties naturally belonged to them.
They were wrong.
According to the laws of the kingdom, a wife's dowry belongs to her and her alone, unless she willingly gifts it away.
And the "Rejection Ritual" was the only form of marital dissolution that allowed the female to leave with her entire dowry, no questions asked.
It required the consent of both parties, or... a direct command from the Dragon King himself.
Brian wanted his new bride and his glory. I wanted my freedom and my dignity. We would settle this the old-fashioned way, the dragon way.
I closed the ledger and put it back. The plan was clear in my mind.
The Castros thought they controlled everything, but they didn't know that my father, Corbin Serrano, had been one of King Aurthur's most trusted Dragon Lords. He had even saved the King's life when His Majesty was a boy.
The Castros didn't know about that favor. But the King would remember.
All I needed was a chance to see him.
"Starting tomorrow morning," I ordered Phoebe, my tone absolute and merciless. "Send our hidden guards to every Serrano-owned business, farm, and mine. Cease all fund transfers to the Castro estate. Cut off their food supplies, their winter clothing, their weapon shipments, and the Royal Dragon Healer's fees. Freeze every single copper coin."
Phoebe's eyes ignited with a fierce, vengeful fire. "You mean... we cut them off completely?"
"Completely," I turned to face her. "Since Brittaney loathes the 'petty chores' of managing a Dragon Court, let's see how her glorious dragonfire conjures bread out of thin air."
"Prepare ink and parchment," I said, my gaze shifting toward the distant, towering spires of the Dragon Palace. "I am writing to the Dragon King."
After the last word was written, I blew the ink dry, folded the letter, and sealed it with the Serrano family crest—a snow-wolf forged in blood and iron.
"Find the most reliable messenger among our loyal guards," I ordered, handing the heavy envelope to Phoebe. "Ride through the night. Deliver this straight to the Dragon Palace."
Elaine Serrano POV:
Two days had passed since my letter was dispatched. The Dragon Palace hadn't replied yet, but I wasn't anxious. A petition of that magnitude took time.
For the past forty-eight hours, I had barricaded myself in my freezing chambers. Whenever the Castro servants pounded on my door, demanding I come out and scrub the new Lady's bedsheets, I simply ignored them.
Bang, bang, bang!
The heavy oak door to my quarters shuddered under an impatient fist. Hazel, the personal maid of the dowager, Lady Icie, stood in the hallway with her nose pointed at the ceiling.
"Elaine," Hazel announced, deliberately dropping my title. "Lady Icie requests your presence in the grand solar. Immediately."
Phoebe bristled beside me, but I simply gave her a calming glance. I smoothed out the non-existent wrinkles on my elegant, dark velvet gown. I knew exactly why I was being summoned. The financial freeze had finally hit them where it hurt.
When I stepped into the lavish solar, Icie Castro was sitting in the center of a plush chaise lounge. Standing right next to her was Brittaney Kirk, wearing a sheer morning gown, her arms crossed as she glared at me.
"Elaine, my dear child, come sit," Icie cooed, suppressing her obvious panic and forcing a tone of artificial, sickening affection.
"I heard you froze the estate accounts out of a little... childish jealousy," Icie began, her tone soft and placating. "I know you feel wronged. But you must understand, you've managed this household for the past year, and you've done it well. Unfreeze the accounts. Pay the Royal Dragon Healer and the merchants for tomorrow's ceremony. As long as you hold the purse strings, you will always be the true mistress of this Dragon Court in my eyes."
I watched her perform, my heart cold and detached. In my past life, I had believed these honeyed words, only to be drained dry.
I gave a small, flawless smile, my eyes wide and perfectly innocent.
"Mother, you misunderstand," I said, my voice soft, respectful, and dripping with absolute compliance. "How could I possibly freeze the accounts out of jealousy? I am merely following Lord Brian's strict orders."
Icie frowned. "What orders?"
"Two nights ago, Lord Brian made it very clear that I am stripped of my title and am now nothing but a lowly personal maid," I explained, blinking gently. "According to the kingdom's customs, a personal maid has no right to manage the noble finances of a Dragon Court. It would be a severe overstep of my bounds. I wouldn't dare touch the accounts."
Icie's face stiffened. She hadn't expected me to use Brian's own vicious words as a shield.
I turned my gaze to Brittaney, offering her a respectful, subservient curtsy. "Since Lady Brittaney is the true Fated Mate and the new Lady of this house, it is only natural that I make way for her. It is my duty as a servant."
"You...!" Icie switched tactics, her voice rising in panic. "Brittaney is a noble Dragon Knight! She will be busy with her training. How could she have time for these trivial matters? You must continue to manage the household. That is an order!"
"I'm afraid I cannot, Mother," I refused gently, maintaining my perfect, harmless smile. "If outsiders were to find out that a glorious Dragon Court relies on the dowry of a cursed, magic-less Dragonless to feed its warriors and pay its Healers, wouldn't that make Lord Brian and Lady Brittaney's Fated Love a laughingstock across the entire kingdom?"
I paused, letting the humiliation of that truth sink into their arrogant bones.
"I am doing this to protect House Castro's honor," I added smoothly. "I have already instructed my stewards to prepare the handover of all estate management. Lady Brittaney, with her powerful dragonfire, will surely have no trouble conjuring bread and paying the merchants for tomorrow's ceremony, right?"
Brittaney's face turned ashen in an instant. Her arrogant glare shattered into pure panic. She knew how to swing a sword, but she didn't have a single copper coin to run a massive estate.
"You... you dare!" Icie shot up from her chaise lounge, the sudden movement causing her to cough violently. She pointed a shaking finger at me, her face purple with rage, completely unable to speak.
