How To Love Your Archnemesis [Romance/Drama/Fantasy - Completed]

A thick roll of paper snapped down onto the polished breakfast table with enough force to rattle teacups, fluttering open to reveal the bold headline of this week's papers: An unlikely alliance of the Northern Duke and Southern Duchess saves the city festival from fire - and steals our hearts?!

An elaborate sketch depicted two figures kneeling together intimately among what appeared to be snow - one tall, unmistakably striking as the Duke of Rivain, the other of the Duchess, who Ysonna thought looked more like a she-devil than a woman. She absently continued to stir her tea, though the sugar had long dissolved.

Her mother splayed her hand flatly on the paper as she stared down at her daughter. "Have you seen this nonsense?"

Ysonna's lips pressed into a thin line, eyes glued to Cassien's drawn image before forcing herself her attention back to her drink. "It's all anyone has talked about for the last three days."

Her mother huffed, scanning the papers as she continued to repeat the text in a mocking voice. "'Onlookers claim after the two rulers braved the fires to help, they were seen embracing in celebration. Has the cold finally thawed between North and South?'"

Marchioness Fiona narrowed her eyes. "The only thing thawing is the Duke's common sense. This is what happens when Southern women start becoming too bold."

From around them, several of the maidservants stationed around the room shifted uneasily at the poor tone directed towards their duke, knowing full well that it could be considered treason if anyone heard them.

"Mother," Ysonna said nervously, clinking her spoon down. "He's still our liege, we mustn't speak like that."

"Don't you think I know that?" The marchioness waved impatiently at a maid to rush forward, pulling out a seat for her beside Ysonna. "It doesn't matter if he is willing to just throw our good nation away for a harpy. If I'd known this would happen, I would have put forth your sister's name much more aggressively last year."

Ysonna kept her eyes lowered. "Perhaps His Grace was… otherwise occupied, Mother."

"Obviously," Fiona snapped her fingers at the maid, pointing at her empty cup. "Otherwise he would have responded to the marriage offer for Jasmine."

Ysonna kept her white-laced hands folded nervously in her lap, holding back the lump in her throat. When she had heard last year that her older sister was submitted as a marriage candidate for Cassien, she had thrown a fit at her own lack of consideration. But the Marchioness looked at her daughter differently now, more matured and ready for the spotlight of high society.

"My sweet child, you've always had a soft spot for the Duke, have you not?"

"...What?" Ysonna's breath hitched.

Her mind slipped into the same fantasy she had been imagining since the very moment Cassien had helped her in the Calypsan garden when she had fallen: striking, untouchable golden eyes that would only soften at the very moment they swept to her face, and her face alone. In public, he would be a dark knight, impossibly handsome in the chill of Rivain's winter sun - but he would save his most precious smiles just for her, to be paraded around like a national treasure.

Her mother's firm voice called her back to the present. "Maybe I focused on the wrong daughter - you are more than of marriageable age now, and respected in society. Perhaps there's still time to correct my mistakes."

Fiona cleared her throat, her eyes sharpening. "You will teach everyone exactly why those songbirds do not steal our men."

"What do you mean by that?" Ysonna asked timidly, though she already knew exactly what her mother was plotting.

"My dearest, we simply need to show the Duke and the rest of Calypsa what they already know deep down about the Southerners: they are nothing more than twisted, pretty faces."

Ysonna twisted a lock of hair around her finger nervously, leaning closer. "Mother… T-that's a dangerous proposition. If we were discovered-"

Her mother scowled. "Ysonna, drop the scared little girl act. We both know that you're more than willing to follow through with this if it meant getting the duke to be yours, or at least ridding him of that cow."

Her body shook slightly as she considered her mother's terrifying yet tempting words. She wanted nothing more than to be by Cassien's side; but the prospect of potentially crossing Naomi - a duchess in her own right - was incredibly daunting. But more than that, Ysonna was afraid of her mother's disappointment - and her own to let this opportunity pass.

"Yes, Mother," she whispered, something inexplicable stirring deep in her chest.

**

The weekly banquet dinner came shortly after, marking the end of another week of the Accord with only two left to go before the season officially ended. As always, the grand ballroom was elaborately decorated with glittering jewels planted among high rise chandeliers and thick, velvety drapes that served as a lush background to the platters of delicacies and wine. Around the room, a handful of northern lords and ladies, inspired by Duke Rivain's public partnership with Duchess Rosenthorn, attempted to make tentative talk with the southern nobles. Despite their efforts, most of them were rebuffed with clipped replies and chilly postures as they kept to their corner of the room.

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The West and East, however, who had loyalty to the North and South rulers respectively, appeared to have a better time with their opposing coast. Their exchanges were still short and impersonal, but it was already leagues further than it ever had been in the past few decades. Ysonna's skin prickled with irritation at the sight of her fellow northerners and western loyalists lowering themselves to awkward conversation with their rivals. Her lips pressed into a tight line as she watched the Duchess from across the banquet, laughing at something Cassien had said. Even at a distance, she could see the tenderness in Cassien's eyes as he watched Naomi, wishing it were herself instead.

What's so good about her anyway?

Ysonna hated the way Cassien looked at her. The reserved, private duke she knew had always kept his heart closed, never offering more than polite words and a fleeting smile. But now, whenever his golden eyes lingered on Naomi, there was a softness that had never existed before. She couldn't deny that Naomi was outwardly very beautiful, but Ysonna refused the thought that her precious Cassien would fall for someone who merely had a pretty face. Obviously, it had something to do with her having seduced Cassien the morning she had seen them together in the south wing, with Naomi having practically bragged about how they had "slept together." Her blood boiled at the very thought; even more so at the fact that their relationship had already failed once before, yet they dared chance it again.

She's just a little snake, Ysonna seethed inwardly, her glare boring holes into Naomi's head.

A voice broke her focus, light and teasing. "Stare any harder, and I'd think you have it out for the duchess."

Ysonna nearly jumped, turning to find Thom Paldarin at her side, swirling a cup of wine in his hand as he gave her a confident smirk. He swept his short, curled brown locks back slightly as she turned to greet him.

She forced a polite smile. "Lord Paldarin. How delightful it is to see you."

"Delightful, is it?" Thom cocked an eyebrow. "Last I remember, you ditched me to dance with Duke Rivain."

She clasped her hands together. "I sincerely apologize, Lord Paldarin. It was not my intention to be rude - I just hadn't seen the Duke in a long time, and I was… close with him, in my childhood. I wanted to greet him as quickly as possible."

Thom's eyes flickered for a moment at her bold-faced lie; he and Cassien were good friends, and if there had ever been anything between him and Ysonna, Thom would've known about it.

He smiled plainly before responding. "Of course, I understand completely. No offense taken."

"And I was merely observing the duchess," she said unprompted, not bothering to hide her side eye at Naomi. "It's hard not to given all the… attention."

"She certainly knows how to command a crowd."

Ysonna gave a small, clipped laugh. "Personally, I don't see the appeal."

Thom didn't answer at first, his mind preoccupied with the humiliation of when the spunky red-headed maid of the duchess had thrown water on him for speaking poorly of her mistress. Then, as if it couldn't get any worse, Naomi herself had reprimanded him in front of all of his peers. He had decided then in that moment, he would vehemently oppose anything that the duchess had to say, simply out of spite. But on that same night when Cassien had warned him to back off on the maid, it had been humbling at the least. He had certainly thought Cassien would at least let him reinforce his title to save face, but the disapproval in his friend's tone alone had him reevaluating his actions since then.

Thom had replayed the scene over and over, each time a little less certain that he'd really been in the right. It wasn't easy to swallow, but it made Thom see things differently; Cassien wasn't a fool, nor had he ever previously been swayed by pretty words or a beautiful face. Clearly, he cared for Naomi enough to put himself in a position of public scrutiny, as she did for him. Still, Thom watched the duchess with guarded eyes - he didn't have to like her, but for his friend's sake, he would at least try to be civil.

"Well," Thom took a sip of his drink. "Obviously the duke does."

Ysonna masked her bitter expression, feigning innocence. "It's just… odd, isn't it? After everything that happened, they just pick things up as if nothing happened."

"I'm not trying to defend the duchess here, but they were set up."

She bristled slightly. "Sounds like defensiveness to me, my lord."

Thom finished the last of his wine, placing it on the platter of a passing server. "Don't get me wrong, my lady. I don't pretend to know the duchess, or how serious things really are between them. I still have my reservations, just as many others do."

He leaned down slightly, his already grizzly voice dropping down a notch. "But at the end of the day, my loyalty lies with my leader. And Cassien is not just my liege, he's my friend. So if he decides this alliance-" he gestured towards the two rulers walking together across the ballroom. "-is what's best for Rivain, then it's all of our duty to back him."

"...Of course. I only want the best for Rivain as well," Ysonna said finally before she turned away, dismissing him. "Thank you for your insight."

Thom only gave a polite nod at her back before his broad-shouldered form disappeared into the crowd. "Enjoy your evening, Lady Archfeld."

Ysonna lingered in the corner of the room by her lonesome, annoyed that Thom's words laid a thin layer of doubt within her. He was right that despite their personal feelings, their loyalties should lie with their ruler. But the pessimistic side of her reared itself - did that mean they should never oppose their leader's actions simply because of their position, even if it would be a detriment to the nation?

She raised her gaze just in time to catch the sight of Cassien and Naomi having slipped around the back of a column, half-hidden from the prying eyes of the court. He stood in front of her, towering and muscled, the dark lines of his coat emphasizing his lean stature. One arm was pressed above her head as he leaned down to murmur something only meant for her to hear, and Naomi let out a bright giggle. Cassien's lips curved upwards at her reaction, gently brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head as she closed her eyes, openly savoring the moment.

Ysonna felt a wretched twist of pain as she watched their quiet intimacy, every trace of doubt drowned out by a roar of envy in her heart. The image of the couple blurred from her vision as she caught her mother's sharp gaze from far behind them with an almost imperceptible nod of approval. Ysonna took a deep breath, steeling herself - it was time to set their plan in motion.