**Chapter 1: The Return of the Wolf**
The war was over.
Ethan Draycott limped down the mud-choked road, his once-fine cloak now a tattered shroud. Five years. Five years of blood and steel, of watching men choke on their last breaths in the frozen trenches of the Valmari front. And for what?
Beside him, **Garrick**, the last surviving member of his personal guard, coughed into a blood-speckled rag. The big man had taken a Valmari arrow to the lung at the Battle of Black Pass. He shouldn't have lived. But he'd refused to die until he saw Ethan home.
*"You hear that?"* Garrick rasped, nodding toward the distant city gates.
Ethan did.
Not the nervous, exhausted chuckles of soldiers. Not the hollow mirth of men who'd seen too much.
This was the bright, careless sound of people who'd never known war.
The walls loomed taller than Ethan remembered. The stone was freshly whitewashed, the banners—crimson and gold, the colors of House Veyne—fluttered where House Draycott's silver wolf had once flown.
A merchant's wagon rolled past, laden with Valmari silks.
*"Since when do we trade with Valmari?"* Garrick muttered.
The gate guards wore Veyne livery.
One eyed Ethan's scars, his missing finger, the way his hand never strayed far from his sword. *"War veteran, eh? The king's giving alms at the square if you're begging."*
Ethan's voice was ground glass. *"I'm no beggar. I'm Ethan Draycott."*
The guards exchanged glances. Then laughter.
*"Draycott's dead. Died in the war. Got the royal decree and everything."*
Garrick stepped forward, but Ethan caught his arm.
Something cold slithered down his spine.
Eldrin was... **wrong.**
The market square where Ethan had once trained with the city watch now hosted Valmari spice merchants haggling over prices. The tavern where he'd drunk with his men—*The Iron Wolf*—had been renamed *The Golden Serpent*.
And the people...
They were *richer*. Fatter. Laughing.
While Ethan's men had rotted in the mud, Eldrin had prospered.
*"Captain..."* Garrick's voice was tight. *"Your house."*
The Draycott manor stood atop the hill, its towers silhouetted against the setting sun.
But the gates were barred.
The crest above the door—his father's silver wolf—had been smashed away. In its place, a golden serpent coiled in smug triumph.
A woman's laugh floated from the gardens.
Ethan knew that laugh.
She stood framed in the arched doorway, her emerald gown clinging to curves that had filled out in his absence. **Liora.**
But she wasn't alone.
Cedric Veyne—Ethan's own **steward**, the man he'd trusted to manage his lands—stood behind her, a possessive hand on her waist.
For a heartbeat, the world stopped.
Then Liora's perfect lips parted.
*"Oh."*
Not *"You're alive."*
Not *"I missed you."*
Just... *"Oh."*
Cedric's grip tightened on her. "This is unfortunate."
The guards moved before Ethan could speak.
They used clubs. Not swords. Not honorable steel.
Wood.
Like he was a rabid dog to be put down.
Garrick roared, taking two down before a crossbow bolt punched through his bad lung.
Ethan fought. Of course he fought. But five years of war had left him a shadow of the warrior he'd been.
The last thing he saw before the darkness took him was Liora's face—not horrified.
*Annoyed.*
He woke in filth.
Garrick's corpse lay beside him, the bolt still in his chest.
Somewhere above, fireworks lit the sky. A celebration.
Ethan dragged himself upright, his ribs screaming.
The laughter of Eldrin's people echoed down to him.
And in that moment, the last shred of Ethan Draycott's honor died.
The Draycotts were an old but **diminished** noble house, once feared as the *"Iron Wolves of Vaelis."* Their ancestral lands lay in the harsh northern territories, where the wind howled like a dying man and the soil yielded more stone than grain.
- **Sigil:** A silver wolf on a field of black
- **Words:** *"Steel Endures"*
- **Power:** Military prowess, not wealth. The Draycotts were **sword lords**—commanders, not merchants. Their influence came from the loyalty of hardened northern warriors, not gold.
Ethan's grandfather, **Lord Torvold Draycott**, had been the last great Warlord of the North, crushing rebellions for the crown. But his son—Ethan's father, **Lord Aldric Draycott**—was a different man.
Aldric was a scholar, not a warrior. He preferred dusty tomes to swords, and under his rule:
- The Draycott coffers dwindled (taxes went uncollected; bandits prowled the roads).
- Their vassals grew restless (the northern lords sneered at a "bookworm lord").
- The **King's favor shifted** to wealthier houses (like the Veynes).
Ethan, the **second son**, was his father's shame.
*"You swing a sword well, boy,"* Aldric once said, *"but steel doesn't fill granaries."*
His elder brother, **Edric**, was groomed to rule—a diplomat, fluent in trade and politics.
Ethan? He was sent to the barracks at **twelve**.
The **Grand Melee of Eldrin** (held to celebrate the king's 50th year) was Ethan's chance to prove his worth.
- He fought **unarmored**, relying on speed and brutality.
- He broke a knight's jaw with his bare hands.
- He took a lance to the thigh and kept fighting.
That was when **Liora Veyne** first saw him.
The Veynes – Serpents in Silk**
House Veyne:
- **Sigil:** A golden serpent coiled around a dagger
- **Words:** *"Silent, Sudden"*
- **Power:** Trade, spies, and **poison**. Where the Draycotts ruled through honor, the Veynes thrived in shadows.
Liora was the youngest daughter—**beautiful, sharp-tongued, and utterly ruthless**.
Her family's problem? **They had gold but no blades.** The king tolerated them but didn't *respect* them.
A marriage to a Draycott (even a second son) would give them:
- Military credibility
- Ties to northern garrisons
- A wolf to mask their serpent's nature
Liora approached Ethan after the melee, pressing a perfumed handkerchief to his bleeding knuckles.
*"You fight like a man who wants to die,"* she mused.
*"I fight to win,"* he growled.
She laughed—a sound like shattering glass. *"Then let's see if you can win me."*
What followed was a courtship of:
- **Secret duels** (she demanded he teach her swordplay, then nearly gutted him with a dagger)
- **Poisoned gifts** (a bottle of wine—"from an admirer"—that killed his squire)
- **Whispers in the king's ear** (she convinced the court Ethan was *"more than a brute"*)
Ethan, raised on battlefields, mistook her cunning for passion.
#### **6. The Wedding – A Pact with a Viper**
Their marriage was **the event of the decade**:
- Liora wore a gown sewn with **jade vipers** (a quiet insult to his wolf sigil).
- Ethan gifted her a **Valmari dagger** (unaware she'd later use it to betray him).
- The king blessed the union, declaring it *"the joining of steel and gold."*
Only **Garrick**, Ethan's gruff bodyguard, dared voice doubts:
*"That one's got snake eyes, Captain. She'll bite when you least expect it."*
He was right.
#### **7. The War – Her Opportunity**
When the Valmari invaded, Ethan rode to battle without a second thought.
Liora kissed him goodbye, her lips cold. *"Don't die a hero,"* she whispered. *"Die rich."*
While he bled on the frontlines, she:
- **Fabricated his death** (paid a scribe to forge the king's seal)
- **Seduced Cedric** (his own steward, a Veyne cousin planted years earlier)
- **Dismantled his house** (sold his ancestral armor, burned his father's books)
And when he returned?
She didn't even **pretend** to be surprised.
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