The Guide to Survival by the Trashy Duke's Daughter
In the shadowed corridors of vengeance, Seraphine had meticulously woven the threads of her grand design. A scheme that would unfold over the span of several years, allowing her the cruel pleasure of witnessing her enemies descend into the abyss of their own making. Each calculated move had been devised to inflict the deepest wounds, to ensure their suffering equaled her own. However, the tapestry of her well-laid plans began to unravel when an unforeseen twist of fate forced her into a union with the most seemingly inconsequential figure in the empire—the fifth prince, Elarian. The very mention of his name brought forth a bitter taste of disappointment, like the sour residue of dashed hopes. Elarian, the fifth of the elven lineage, was infamous within the echelons of high society for his seemingly docile and coddled existence. To the privileged elite, he was but a jest, a perpetual punchline to their idle chatter. Despite possessing the latent potential of an S-class water mage, he had navigated his life without encountering the crucible of training or adversity. Surrounded by opulence and the warmth of unconditional love, his existence was cocooned in privilege. For the royal family, marriage had become an act of desperate necessity—an ultimatum to compel Elarian's long-overdue maturation. They believed that the bonds of wedlock would serve as the crucible to forge a prince worthy of his lineage. And so, Seraphine, the harbinger of her own vendetta, found herself shackled to a seemingly insufferable companion—Elarian, the reluctant prince. The convergence of their destinies ignited a volatile cocktail of emotions, birthing a tempestuous maelstrom that could only result in disdain. From the moment their paths converged, Seraphine's enmity surged forth like a torrential tide, consuming her thoughts and sentiments. It was a sentiment equally reciprocated by Elarian, whose once tranquil existence was now marred by the storm of her disdain. As Seraphine embarked on her treacherous journey to dethrone the oppressive Duke and dismantle the vile machinery of injustice that plagued those bereft of magical abilities, she found herself burdened with an unexpected responsibility—a cumbersome infant in the form of Elarian. But therein lay the crux of their predicament—an irreconcilable paradox. How could Seraphine ever hope to form an alliance with a man who had never known the depths of suffering, who lived in blissful oblivion, unburdened by the torment that fueled her unrelenting fire? How could Elarian, shielded by the armor of privilege, endure the relentless lashings of Seraphine's acerbic tongue, understanding the true weight of her words only in the nocturnal solitude that shrouded him just before the embrace of sleep? Their union was a discordant symphony, a cacophony of opposing forces, each vying for dominance in the tumultuous theater of their shared existence. As the wheels of destiny ground forward, their fates became inexorably entwined, bound by the chains of a marriage that held within its crucible both the promise of transformation and the perilous threat of destruction. [cover made by AI]
Chapter 1: Journey
"Sister!" Sebastian's eyes welled with tears, his voice trembling with an endearing vulnerability. "C-can you n-not go?"
Seraphine's countenance bore a tender smile, but it was marked by the weight of the impending separation. "Fear not," she replied, her words draped in a hint of melancholy. "Even within the hallowed halls of the imperial palace, I shall remain your guardian."
"N-no, that's not what I mean," Sebastian stuttered, his voice quivering like a fragile leaf caught in the autumn breeze.
An ineffable sense of dread clutched at his heart as if an invisible hand were squeezing the very life from his chest. "I-it's d-dangerous."
At that moment, the bond between brother and sister was a lifeline, an unspoken understanding of the perils that lurked within the Duke's domain.
"Seb," Seraphine sighed softly, enfolding her younger brother in a protective embrace. "Listen closely to my words. If you adhere to my counsel with unwavering resolve, I shall expedite your release from this place."
"O-okay," Sebastian responded, a glimmer of hope rekindling in his eyes, his lips forming a tentative smile.
"Do not, under any circumstance, cross paths with the Duke," Seraphine began, her words an invocation of caution. "Reveal not the true depths of your magic abilities and navigate with utmost discretion amidst the mistresses. Interact not with the other progeny of this abode, my dear sibling. Instead, you may seek solace in the company of the twins, but do so discreetly, away from their mother's watchful gaze."
"B-but I'm already d-doing that," Sebastian murmured, his brow furrowing in bewilderment as he met his sister's gaze.
"Yes," Seraphine nodded gently, her fingers delicately raking through her brother's unruly hair. "Continue in this manner, and you shall elude the snares of peril. In this house bereft of allies, feign disinterest in the affairs of this household, and await my return to liberate you from these chains."
"The t-twins...?" Sebastian inquired; his voice laden with concern.
Seraphine's expression softened, her heart heavy with affection for her half-sisters, the twins. "Their deliverance will require time," she admitted, her voice tinged with a hint of regret. "For their mother yet thrives, and I must secure our escape before venturing to rescue them."
"The d-duchess...?" Sebastian ventured timidly, his gaze a portrait of trepidation.
Her response was candid, delivered with the honesty that only siblings shared. "The duchess remains an enigma," Seraphine confessed. "Trust not in anyone, Sebastian, and patiently await the hour of my return."
"Lady Seraphine," the butler's dignified presence interrupted their heartfelt exchange, announcing the imminent departure. "The carriage stands prepared."
"Sister!" Sebastian's eyes brimmed with the poignant fear of separation from his beloved kin, his voice quivering with the weight of their parting. "P-please..."
"I shall return to you, my cherished brother," Seraphine whispered, planting a tender kiss upon his brow. "Wait patiently for your sister's triumphant return. Farewell, for now."
"G-goodbye," Sebastian, still in the tender throes of adolescence, summoned the remnants of his fortitude, watching his sister depart from the crucible of torment that was the Duke's manor.
With measured steps, Seraphine made her way through the grand corridor of the Duke's manor, the weight of her impending departure settling heavily upon her shoulders.
The opulent tapestries that lined the walls, woven with scenes of triumphant battles and noble grandeur, seemed to mock her with their extravagance.
She felt like an imposter in this world of splendor, a place she never truly belonged.
As she reached the imposing double doors that led to the grand entrance, her steps slowed, and she could feel her heart tighten with conflicting emotions.
Her father, the Duke, was conspicuously absent from this farewell, and the absence gnawed at her like a festering wound.
While she harbored a deep-seated resentment toward him, a part of her had yearned for his presence, a flicker of paternal warmth or even a hint of regret.
The only figure waiting by the ornate entrance was the Duchess, a woman whose life had been intertwined with the Duke's in a complicated dance of power and obligation.
Her countenance bore traces of faded beauty and unspoken sadness, a mask worn by one who had long accepted the intricacies of her existence.
"Seraphine," the Duchess greeted her with a measured smile, her voice tinged with a touch of regret. "The carriage awaits."
Seraphine met the Duchess's gaze, and in that moment, a silent understanding passed between them.
The Duchess had not always been Seraphine's ally, but in the Duke's absence, they were united by a shared sense of displacement.
"Thank you, Your Grace," Seraphine replied with a courteous nod, her voice laced with polite formality. She had learned to navigate the treacherous waters of courtly etiquette with practiced ease.
As Seraphine made her way to the carriage, she couldn't help but cast a lingering glance back at the imposing manor that had been her gilded cage for so long.
The mansion loomed like a fortress, its stone walls concealing a multitude of secrets and betrayals. It was a place that had molded her into a cunning and resilient individual, a crucible of suffering and survival.
Her father's absence weighed heavily on her, a void that could not be filled by the grandeur of her new life at the imperial palace. She was enraged by his detachment, his willingness to send her off without a word of farewell.
Yet, beneath the layers of anger and resentment, there lingered a profound sense of sadness. For deep down, despite the years of strife and estrangement, she had secretly hoped for a semblance of paternal affection, a final acknowledgment of their blood ties.
As she stepped into the waiting carriage, the Duchess waved at her, her eyes filled with an emptiness that Seraphine couldn't understand the reason behind. And then, the heavy doors closed with a resounding thud.
The wheels began to turn, and the manor slowly receded from view, fading into the distance like a wistful memory.
Seraphine gazed out of the carriage window, her gaze fixed on the sprawling estate that had been her home and her prison.
The journey ahead was fraught with uncertainty, and Seraphine's path was shrouded in shadows cast by the enigmatic web of courtly politics.
Her resolve remained unyielding, her determination to forge her destiny unshakeable.
Yet, as the manor disappeared from sight, she couldn't help but feel a pang of sorrow for the fractured relationship with her father and the tumultuous chapter of her life that was now coming to a close.
The journey from the western region to the imperial capital was a long and arduous one. Seraphine found herself confined to the luxurious carriage, its opulent interior a stark contrast to the dusty roads and bustling villages outside.
Her thoughts were a tempest of emotions, a storm that raged beneath the surface of her sweet and docile mask.
She sat in silence, her gaze fixed on the passing landscape, but her mind was far away.
The marriage to the fifth prince, an arrangement that had been imposed upon her, filled her with a seething resentment that she concealed with practiced ease.
Her father's decision had been nothing more than a means to rid himself of what he perceived as a useless and magicless burden, and she couldn't help but despise him for it.
"Is something troubling you, Lady Seraphine?" came the soft voice of her knight, a loyal and stoic figure who had been assigned to protect her during the journey.
He was a tall, imposing middle-aged man with a chiseled jaw and piercing blue eyes. His presence was a reassuring one, but it did little to quell the storm of emotions brewing within her.
Seraphine turned her gaze toward him, offering a polite smile that masked the turmoil in her heart. "Not at all, Sir Eldric. I am simply lost in thought."
The knight nodded, his expression unwavering. "If you ever wish to speak your mind, my lady, I am here to listen."
She appreciated his offer, but the secrets she carried were far too dangerous to share, even with a trusted confidant. Instead, she chose to focus on the task at hand, the role she was expected to play in the imperial court.
As the carriage approached the capital, the city's grandeur came into view, its towering spires and bustling streets a testament to the power and influence of the royal family.
Seraphine couldn't help but feel a pang of resentment as she realized the extent of her father's ambitions. He had traded her off like a pawn in a political game, a fact that filled her with a bitter sense of betrayal.
The arrival at the imperial palace was a grand affair, with the royal family, including King Thalorian and Queen Caladwen, waiting to receive her.
Seraphine stepped out of the carriage with the help of Sir Eldric, her movements graceful and poised. Her sweet and docile mask was firmly in place, concealing the storm of emotions that raged within her.
"Welcome to the imperial palace, Lady Seraphine," greeted King Thalorian, his voice a warm and reassuring presence. He extended a hand toward her, and she curtsied politely before taking it. Her grip was firm, a subtle sign of her determination.
"Thank you, Your Majesty," she replied with a demure smile, her golden eyes meeting his with practiced courtesy. She knew that her demeanor would be closely scrutinized, and she had no intention of giving anyone reason to doubt her.
Queen Caladwen, standing by her husband's side, regarded Seraphine with a measured gaze. There was a depth of understanding in her eyes that Seraphine couldn't see the reason behind it.
As the King and Queen personally led her into the palace and the heavy silence continued, Seraphine couldn't help but feel a sense of isolation.
She was a stranger in a foreign land, a pawn in a game of power and politics. The marriage to the fifth prince loomed over her like a dark cloud, a reminder of the sacrifices she had made for the sake of her family's ambitions.
Yet, beneath the veneer of her sweet and docile mask, her heart burned with rage and hatred. She despised the marriage, the Duke's callous decision, and the role she had been forced to play.
But she also understood the necessity of her presence in the imperial court, the role she would need to embrace to protect her family and uncover the secrets that lay hidden in the shadows.
Soon enough, her soon-to-be husband came to her sight, standing in the imperial hall.
At that moment, only one thought was left in Seraphine's mind: Should I just kill him?