Ligia's reflection still stared back at her — firm, whole, steady — when a barely audible sound broke the symphony of wind.
A muffled cough, poorly concealed.
Her senses screamed.
Muscles tightened beneath the white and scarlet dress.
Her violet eyes flared briefly before calmly turning — unhurried — in the direction of the sound.
She raised one eyebrow.
A crooked, dangerous smile played on her lips.
"A rat... is eavesdropping," she murmured.
She activated her vampiric senses.
Vision exploded into clarity.
The light mist dissolved like a veil ripped from the world.
The warmth of leaves.
The vibration of roots.
Sunlit dust floating in golden rays.
And there, among the large crimson rose bushes...
The intruder.
Tall. Broad-shouldered. Narrow waist.
He wore the noble garb of Solarys, though his collar was loosened, sleeves rolled to reveal veined forearms and firm muscle beneath embroidered silk.
He tried to suppress a laugh.
A large, handsome hand — long fingers — covered his mouth.
But Ligia saw.
She saw everything.
His face looked sculpted by a furious artist.
Strong jawline, chiseled features, a hint of stubble over sun-warmed skin.
But it was the eyes that cut.
Green. Bright. Sharp.
Like polished emerald at dawn.
Glinting and full of amused mockery.
Short hair, slightly wavy, somewhere between forest green and moonlit moss.
Rebellious. Irreverent.
A single earring: dark stone in a silver frame.
Elegant. Subtle. Arrogant.
Ligia blinked slowly. Her smile grew.
"A well-dressed rat, it seems."
The man straightened, still trying to suppress laughter... and failed.
A sound escaped — deep, rough, delightfully insolent.
The laugh of a charming mercenary or a bored prince.
His eyes met hers.
And held.
One second. Two.
The wind held its breath.
He raised one eyebrow — mirroring her.
The lazy smile curled at his lips, like a man caught misbehaving with no remorse.
"Well," he said, voice warm like a slow summer,
"if I'd known the d'Argêntea gardens had such... extraordinary views, I'd have gotten lost here more often."
Ligia lifted her chin.
Her eyes sparked, but her smile remained — light, dangerous.
Part of her wanted to command the shadows to drag him by the ankles.
The other part... heard Lady Asvalira whisper in her mind:
"Seduction isn't haste. It's a dance. Poison in drops. Make him speak thinking he's in control."
She tucked a loose strand of hair.
Turned slightly, showing her profile.
Exposed shoulder. Narrowed eyes.
Predator pretending to be prey.
"Tell me, charming rat..."
"Is it common for nobles to hide behind flowers in gardens that aren't theirs?"
Her voice was soft. But full of thorns.
The man stepped out from the bushes with lazy elegance, hands raised as if surrendering... to her charm.
"Perhaps. When the gardens hide something far more fascinating than flowers."
His eyes scanned her.
Not vulgar.
But not hidden.
Ligia kept smiling.
Ignored the annoying heat creeping up her neck.
She stepped closer.
Graceful strides.
Arms crossed beneath her chest — lifted posture, low tone, sharp smile.
"You're awfully calm for someone who could be accused of spying... or of badly disguised flirting."
He laughed. Loud. Unrestrained. Warm.
"Maybe I'm guilty of both. But only one of those is a crime in Solarys."
She stopped one step from him.
Close enough to feel his warmth.
Scent of wood, sun, and something mineral.
Perfume of noble alchemy.
"And what's the name of the wolf who dares invade the vampires' den?"
"Ligia d'Argêntea," he said, savoring her name like rare wine.
"I heard you were intriguing. Cold. But no one told me you were also... enchanting."
She blinked.
Okay. That part wasn't in Lady Asvalira's lessons.
He's flipping the game. And it's working.
She tilted her head, bored.
"Yet you still haven't answered my question."
He shrugged. Green eyes, a wet forest full of traps.
"Verdanel."
A lazy bow.
"Just Verdanel... for now."
"A noble who hides and speaks in riddles. Very suspicious."
"Or simply... curious about a lady said to be as deadly as she is beautiful."
"And it seems the rumors don't do you justice."
Ligia bit her cheek to avoid laughing.
Bold. Arrogant. Sculpted. Dangerous.
• Mental note: more lessons with Lady Asvalira needed.
The system popped in, floating belly-up, giggling.
"Performance rating: 4.5. You're clearly using 'Seductive Interrogation Module One.'"
"Shut up or I'll buy your version with an asthmatic pigeon voice," Ligia muttered internally.
The system howled with laughter.
Verdanel stepped forward.
"So, Lady d'Argêntea… are you going to kick me out? Or let me see if this garden holds more secrets?"
Ligia snapped back into control.
Raised her chin.
Smiled sweetly, with poison.
"Depends."
"Will you keep being evasive... or give me a good reason not to use your blood to fertilize the roses?"
He just... laughed.
Then she leaned in slightly.
Ligia kept her smile.
But her eyes... darkened.
Aura rippled around her. Invisible, but palpable.
She was about to press.
Not with words — with presence.
With the legacy in her blood.
With the power that made nobles tremble.
With the silent warning that this garden was her domain.
"Let's see how far that insolent smile of yours goes..."
But then...
Fsshhh.
A crisp sound.
Shadows twisted near a tree.
And from them emerged Vael.
Straight. Elegant.
"Is there a problem, miss?"
His voice was soft. But edged with steel.
Time froze.
Verdanel raised his hands in peace.
Smiling like he'd just been caught stealing wine and invited the owner for a sip.
"None, steward. Just... a stroll. And a pleasant conversation with Lady d'Argêntea."
Vael held his gaze. Steady. Assessing.
But Verdanel... didn't flinch.
Smiled like he belonged in that garden.
Ligia stepped in lightly.
"It's true, Vael. Just a conversation."
But inside?
Red alert.
This man isn't just curious.
Vael paused a beat too long before responding:
"I understand. But... the Duke requests your presence. Immediately."
Father. Perfect timing.
Ligia nodded.
Took two steps.
But as she passed Verdanel, she turned and whispered:
"I'm not done with you."
He tilted his head, eyes glinting.
"I hope not, Lady d'Argêntea."
She continued walking with Vael, steps steady.
But in her mind, the thought was clear:
Next time... he won't get away so easily.
And she would find out — charm or no charm —what Verdanel was hiding behind that damned smile.