For a high-born noble daughter of a Marquisate to wield a heavy broadsword and casually drop a violent curse was absolutely unthinkable.

Heena didn’t care. She turned her fierce glare toward the stunned servants. "You heard the guard! I am giving you all exactly twenty minutes. In those twenty minutes, every single groom’s room—with absolutely no exceptions—is to be cleaned out! Strip them down and put the estate’s property back in the treasury where it belongs!"

The servants frantically bowed their heads and practically sprinted to begin their work, terrified that the unhinged heiress might swing the sword at them next.

Heena turned her attention back to the Fourth Groom, who was now staring at the blade pointed at him, his arrogant glare slowly giving way to confusion.

"And you," Heena ordered coldly. "You are going to pay for all the massive disturbances and damages you have caused."

The Fourth Groom frowned, genuinely lost. "Disturbances? What damages are you talking about?"

Heena swung the sword slightly, pointing the heavy steel directly at the sprawling stalks of green. "This damn thing that you planted here! You are going to compensate this estate for every single coin it takes to repair the foundations this weed is going to destroy! I want you to find exactly where every single bamboo shoot is coming out of the ground."

Her eyes narrowed with utter, unfiltered hatred for his complete lack of landscaping common sense. "You are going to clean up this entire bamboo forest. Every single part of it. By hand."

It was a literally impossible task for one person, but Heena was too angry to care.

The Fourth Groom took a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. He wanted to project the aura of a calm, untouchable swordsman who was above petty estate squabbles. He lowered his head in a stiff, reluctant bow.

"I greet my lady," he said, forcing his voice to remain even. "I know that you are angry about something, but I truly do not understand what you mean. This bamboo was planted to cultivate a peaceful mind. It was merely the thought of this lowly servant—"

"Shut the heck up!" Heena snapped, cutting him off so aggressively he actually flinched.

She took a menacing step forward, the broadsword gleaming dangerously in the afternoon sun. "First, you dare to recklessly destroy a Marquis’s property with your stupid aesthetics, and now you dare to speak back to me like that? Do you think I care about your peaceful mind while you ruin my grandmother’s courtyard?"

Heena scoffed. She lowered the heavy broadsword, letting the razor-sharp tip hit the stone floor of the courtyard with a loud, metallic *clank*. Keeping one hand draped casually over the hilt, she leaned against the massive weapon as if it were a walking cane, watching the terrified servants frantically rip the luxurious courtyard apart.

Just as the chaos reached its peak, a shrill, furious scream echoed through the bamboo forest.

"What the heck are you doing?!"

Heena let out a long, deeply irritated sigh. She didn’t even have to look to know who was interrupting her now. Slowly, she turned around, still casually leaning on her guard’s sword.

Marching violently through the courtyard gates was her mother, the Marchioness. Her elaborate silk robes fluttered wildly around her ankles, her face flushed completely red with absolute, unhinged fury. Trailing right behind her, hiding cowardly behind her skirts, was Kavien—the First Groom she had just evicted.

But what really made Heena’s eyes narrow was the man walking beside them.

The Marquis. Her father.

He walked into the courtyard in total silence, his expression as cold and immovable as a mountain. Heena looked at him, a dark, mocking laugh echoing in her mind.

*Oh my God,* Heena thought, her grip tightening slightly on the sword hilt. *Look at this. This man actually found the time to come running out of his study to protect his so-called ’son-in-law’. The exact same man who couldn’t even be bothered to lift a finger to find his actual, flesh-and-blood daughter when she went missing.*

The Marchioness stormed forward, pointing a trembling finger at the mess of the courtyard, and then at the sword in Heena’s hand.

"How dare you?!" the mother shrieked, her voice cracking with rage. "Look at this mess! Look at what you are holding! Is this how a noble daughter of the Marquisate should act?!"

Heena didn’t flinch. She just looked the furious woman up and down, her expression shifting into one of mild, mocking concern.

"Mother," Heena drawled, her voice perfectly calm. "Did you eat something spoiled for lunch today? Are you suffering from severe indigestion or something?"

The Marchioness froze, completely derailed by the sheer randomness of the insult. Her mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. "What... what the heck are you talking about?!"

Heena tilted her head, blinking with perfectly feigned, innocent confusion. "Mother, what? I am merely worried about your health. Why else would a noble lady of your standing be out here screaming like a common street vendor in the middle of a courtyard?"

The Marchioness’s face turned an ugly, mottled shade of purple as she violently tried to swallow down her explosive anger.

Behind Heena, the frantic servants completely paused their cleaning to stare at the scene. They looked at the perfectly poised, sweetly smiling Heena, and then glanced nervously at each other. They were all collectively sweating, their minds screaming the exact same thought.

*My lady... you were literally just wielding a lethal weapon and dropping violent curses at a titled groom not even sixty seconds ago! How can you possibly stand there with a straight face and lecture the Marchioness about manners?!*

The Marchioness gasped, clutching the heavy silk of her robes over her chest as if Heena had just physically slapped her.

"You... you insolent wretch!" the mother sputtered, completely abandoning any pretense of aristocratic dignity. She pointed a shaking finger at the heavy blade in Heena’s hand. "Put that vulgar, filthy weapon down this instant! Look at you! Acting like a common thug, destroying your brothers’ rooms! You will order these servants to stop immediately, and then you will get on your knees and apologize to Kavien!"

Heena didn’t move an inch. She didn’t drop the sword, nor did she tell the servants to stop. In fact, seeing her hold her ground, the servants frantically sped up their cleaning, deciding that the unhinged daughter with the actual sword was currently far more terrifying than the shouting mother.

"Brothers?" Heena echoed, rolling the word around in her mouth as if it tasted like ash. She let out a short, cold laugh. "Mother, please. Have the estate’s physicians check your memory as well as your stomach. I was born an only child. The Marquisate has exactly one heir. These men are nothing more than glorified pets you brought in to entertain yourselves."

Kavien, emboldened by the presence of his adopted parents, stepped out from behind the Marchioness. "You are going too far, Seera! We are officially recognized by the family!"

Heena didn’t even look at him. She just shifted the angle of the broadsword slightly, the sunlight catching the razor-sharp edge, and Kavien instantly shut his mouth and shrank back behind the mother’s skirts.

Suddenly, a heavy, suffocating pressure descended upon the courtyard.

"Seera."