As far as promises go, a missive arriving in Madalynn's room at a weekend was a bullshit way of keeping them. Her heels clacked against the red rugs lining the floors of the Sadreska, a frown pulling against the corners of her lips. Servants knew better than to get in the way of her pale pink dress as she tore through the hallways in search of her father's study.

She made a promise to her horse, Gomoky, about getting his favorite brand of oats in the market today. After making sure it fell on a weekend, where no lame tasks for the house or the business would eat away at her time, imagine her surprise when her lead lady-in-waiting popped her blond head past Madalynn's door and informed her of an official missive.

For Gomoky's sake, she even made sure to make her father promise to never summon her under any conditions. For whatever pathetic reason he has for her now, she's not going to hear the end of it after giving her father a piece of her mind.

Most of the velvet curtains were drawn back from the floor-to-ceiling glass windows they're guarding. Light from the morning sun streamed past the glowing landscape of gardens and lesser stone manors surrounding Sadreska—a clear contrast to the cloud of annoyance brewing above Madalynn's head.

The lawn needed trimming. Maybe she'd get one of the servants to tell the chief gardener. These heathens, while being paid by the hard-earned Agnussen fund, always found a way to slack off and underperform. Meanwhile, as heir of the dynasty of business and social standing, Madalynn couldn't even get one day off to treat her horse who has been with her longer than her father had.

Paper crinkled between her fingers. She brought the crumpled telegram to her face and re-read the loopy handwriting characteristic of her father, the head of the Agnussen House. There has been some developments. Come.

That's everything. She turned the sheet over, as if the same gestures from earlier would provide a different result. Growing up an Agnussen meant being trained to be open to any possibility about everything. This telegram could have been a trap, sprung by their rival house, the Renlichts. Her father, a businessman to his core, would never forget the promise he made to his own daughter about her own holiday.

Nevertheless, there's a chance she was really being summoned and her father was as much of a dick to her as he was to his enemies. Well, she wouldn't find out unless she went, would she? Perhaps she'd be able to make the trip to town a little later than planned, but she'd still be able to cross it off her to-do list. This was the last time her father would be able to push her around. She's the next heir, and it should be clear as early as now such was the case.

Dust assaulted her nose and she sneezed. Damn. Why would the cleaners decide to sweep the place when she's up and about in the manor? Oh, right. Because she told everyone she wouldn't be here early in the morning, that they're free to do everything they wanted in her space, and that she's not going to return well until evening.

How ironic.

The ornate doors of her father's office sped into view. Carved from the prized bloodwood tree in all of Arvensey, it's perfect for the most intricate designs her father's fancy might catch. And as she craned her neck up at the convoluted mess of leaves, flowers, and occasional baby angels, it's evident how her father had gone crazy. Perhaps, he, too, had fallen victim to the iokhi capsules he kept flooding the underground market with.

"Let's get this over with," Madalynn muttered under her breath and despite cringing internally at interacting with her father's tacky door, cranked the brushed, golden handle. The hinges didn't complain when she swung the door in. "Good morning, Father," she greeted in the flattest tone she could muster.

Her effort to communicate her annoyance flew by her father's head as his dark hair popped from his study. A book sat in his hand, and he's perusing his tall bookcase for something else before her entry. His glasses sat atop his head, which he, no doubt, had forgotten.

"Morning, my lily," he greeted back, a stupid smile plastered on his kind face. "How was your sleep?"

The townsfolk were right. It's hard to fault Kasenck Agnussen for anything, when his doe eyes and soft features made him look like a lost lamb rather than a leader of the largest iokhi cartel in Arvensey. Well...second-largest, maybe—the title was up for grabs until now. Hence their quarrel with the Renlichts.

It took everything in Madalynn's will to not bow to her father's charms, despite how wily he seemed to be this particular day. He was usually like this when he wanted something from her, something he couldn't ask of the other elders.

"Summoning me in the morning with a missive you promised to not send, I presume, isn't about how I slept?" she snapped, crossing her arms over her ample chest just to make her presence fuller than him. Even with his geeky face, her father never lost the ability to control the room just by standing in it. "Are you starting to grow snow on your hair?"

Which wasn't harsh, by any stretch. Never in her life had her father asked her anything about her well-being. It was always business, business, and even more business. Not that she's against it. In fact, she preferred the ruthless side he showed only to his partners, underlings, acquaintances, and enemies. But her father was a doting man to his family, and unfortunately, Madalynn was one.

"I haven't forgotten, Maddy," her father shut the book with a final thud and stuck it into the void in the bookcase. She pointed to her head to signify his glasses when his face morphed to the beginning of his quest to look for it. The metal creaked when he lowered it to his eyes. "In case you're wondering."

"But...?" Madalynn prompted. "I feel there's something of the sort coming."

Her father nodded. "But I received important information, and it concerns the future of our house," he studied Madalynn from head to toe, noting how the pink satin complimented her rich brown skin, and how her equally dark hair was pulled away from her face in an uncomplicated low bun. He continued when she didn't contribute anything to it. "You're going to Verolya."

A dry laugh scratched out of her mouth. "Are you serious?" When her father's expression didn't change, her amusement petered out. "You're serious."

"I'm glad you reached such a conclusion," her father replied, matching her dryness. He retired to one of the many lounge chairs in his office. She remained standing. No way she'd handle this conversation by giving up power by sitting. "I'll have provisions and your steed prepared. You'll leave tomorrow."

"And I suppose I'm not going to get any explanation as to why?" she said. "I have a life outside being an Agnussen, Father."

He raised an eyebrow. "Buying oats?" He rested his elbows on his thighs and twined his fingers. "Look, Maddy. You don't have much time. Verolya must be ours to conquer."

They could have saved some of that much-needed time had he not spent it meandering and talking in riddles. "Are you waiting for me to ask 'why?' " she answered through the ample gap he put in between.

"I suppose not," her father heaved a breath, signifying how tired he was. Well, controlling the underground inside the confines of this decorated room while not moving an inch tended to do that to someone. "An ancient ruin was unearthed in Verolya, and rumors have it there's something of our interest inside the abandoned vaults."

It was Madalynn's turn to cock an eyebrow. "A treasure hunt?" she strode to the opposite lounge chair from her father and rested her weight on it. "I also never counted you to believe in rumors, much more in superstition."

"A considerable amount went into Levera's coffers for this, so I must vouch for its accuracy," her father answered to her dismay. He was like her mother. Both didn't have constraints on where and how fast they spent money. Hence, a business like theirs was necessary. Working as a noble house under the Krahviy's thumb could only pay so much. "And I was—am—desperate."

She has had enough talks with her father along this thread; she knew what he was going to say next and could recite it word for word. "You're almost past the appropriate age for a eskanovbri. You're getting fewer and fewer suitors by the year. We need to remedy that."

"By going on a treasure hunt?" Perhaps, her father had followed in the footsteps of his ornate door. "I don't follow."

Her father coughed into his fist. It was more of dislodging a lump in his throat rather than of sickness. "Deep within the vaults of Verolya lies the Heart," he said. "Legends say it's able to make anyone fall in love with its owner."

Oh. So, this was the way it's going. Now, it made sense. "Think about it, Maddy," her father stood up and approached her. Callous hands brushed against her sleeves as he took her shoulders. "We can finally close the deal with the Kalaos House and move on to take over the iokhi monopoly. We're projected to make quadruple of our profits if we get the Renlichts out of the way. You just need to make Humaa's son fall for you with the Heart."

As always, it was business. And this time, he's making sure he would have someone to pass it to while being sure it wouldn't crumble when he keeled over. "I can handle my own eskanovbri, Father. Without the aid of mystical treasures which may not even work," she slipped her father's hold off her. "There are other powerful noble houses we can convert to the underground if we so wish to. I think the Charkyiv House is enough to sink the Renlichts."

Her father flashed her a flat look. "Didn't you spook the heir at that ball a few months ago? It was because of an uncut snowpear, I believe."

"Snowpears must always be cut and served cold in any function," Madalynn defended, enlightened about the memory she forgot. "It's the Charkyiv's fault they're too primitive to follow tradition."

He blew another breath. "Why do I even wonder about my only daughter still unwed at this age?" he muttered. It was loud so she could hear. Subtle but not. Thanks, Father.

It's not like she intended to sabotage her own potential engagement. Not everyone could handle her tongue as well as her stubbornness. Women in the noble circles of Arvensey were expected to be docile, engaging in mind and bodily affairs with grace to match a swan. And with Madalynn...let her say she once tackled a wild woolbear when it came too near and won.

"Father, I still think this mission and this trip is unnecessary," she reasoned. "I—"

"You will go to Verolya. You will obtain the Heart," the cruelty now crept in her father's eyes and tone. He's pissed off, and she was the cause. She'd rather not be on the other end of his wrath, because Angels forbid, she knew what it entailed. There's no doting man to an unruly daughter, no matter how prized she was to his eyes. "And you will continue the Agnussen legacy using any means necessary, even if you have to use an ancient curse."

It's an order—one she couldn't refuse to her father's face. So, she forced herself to look up and meet his eyes. Her own frost-blue eyes stared back at her. "Fine," she said. "But I need someone to buy Gomoky the best oats in Arvensey."

Her father's shoulders slumped in relief. "And no more missives on all weekends after I return," she added. Of course, having his daughter accept a quest, no matter how ridiculous the end goal was, he had no right to refuse.