Nyx sat still.
The file on Alden remained open in her ManaSync, but her eyes weren't reading anymore.
They were distant and lost.
He's just like me…
That thought appeared into her mind out of nowhere—but it was impossible to ignore.
She had always thought Alden was a typical noble—arrogant and spoiled.
Even if he was an illegitimate son.
But the truth…
He had been discarded. Abused. Exiled.
Just like me…
Her fingers curled into fists.
Memories appeared in her mind—memories she'd buried deep.
Her own childhood, spent behind fortified gates and marble walls.
A golden prison.
Her father never once smiled at her. Never once held her hand or praised her.
His gaze was cold and clinical — as if assessing a weapon he'd personally forged.
And that's all she had ever been.
A tool.
The perfect daughter. The perfect soldier.
Trained in combat before she could write.
Restricted from leaving family mansion.
