His Unwanted Fiancée Is The Kingdom's Genius

Jace POV:

I stood frozen in the banquet hall, my cheek still burning from Corrin's slap. I stared at her retreating back, completely bewildered by her final question. What day is tomorrow?

Caleb sneered, wiping spilled wine from his sleeve. "What is she talking about? She's probably just making up some pathetic excuse to get your attention, Jace. Next, she'll say someone died to make you pity her."

The words hit me like a spark. Died. I suddenly remembered a brief conversation from a week ago. Corrin had come to my study, her eyes red, and told me that the remains of her parents, who had perished in a border conflict five years ago, had finally been recovered. Their ashes were being escorted back to the capital on the eve of the Holy Flame Festival—which was tomorrow.

She had asked me to accompany her, saying her parents had always wanted to see her married. I had agreed readily at the time. I didn't want to break my promise, but doubt gnawed at my mind. We had been married for three years, and I had never once heard her mention these parents. Why would they suddenly appear right when Elianna was hosting her celebration? And who in the Dragon Court would bother escorting the ashes of an orphan's parents across the country?

It was obvious. Corrin was lying. She had fabricated this elaborate story about dead parents just to force me to spend the day with her instead of Elianna. She loves me so much she's willing to curse her own parents just to keep me, I thought, shaking my head. I wouldn't expose her lie. I would just humor her tomorrow morning.

Corrin POV:

The morning wind bit through my thin black mourning dress. I stood outside the massive iron gates of the Davidson estate for an hour. The sun had crested the horizon, blinding and cold.

Jace never appeared.

I pulled out my communication crystal and channeled a tiny bit of energy into it. A few seconds later, Jace's voice crackled through, sounding extremely impatient. "Corrin, what is it? Elianna had a sudden emergency with her estate's magic array. I have to help her. I can't go with you today."

A cold laugh escaped my lips. It was entirely expected. "So, you are going to let the deceased wait while you finish flirting with your mistress?"

"Oh, stop it, Corrin!" Jace snapped. "We both know it's just a made-up excuse anyway! What does it matter if I don't go? Stop being so dramatic—"

Before he could finish, a soft, delicate voice drifted through the crystal from his end. "Jace, I'm ready. Are you coming?"

"I'm coming," Jace replied, his voice instantly softening.

Click. He cut the connection.

I stood there, my body turning numb. It wasn't just heartbreak; it was a freezing, murderous fury at his blatant insult to my heroic parents. I resolved in that moment to sever every tie I had with this pathetic man. But right now, my priority was bringing my parents home.

I turned and walked toward the capital's military district.

Two hours later, the towering obsidian walls of the Dragon Guard camp loomed ahead. A massive silver crest of dragon wings gleamed under the sun.

Two guards stepped in front of the gate. "Military restricted area. State your business," the taller one barked.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out a worn, scratched bronze badge. I held it up. "Former Griffin's Wing Vanguard, Corrin Nolan. I am here to claim the ashes of Ronan and Isolde Nolan."

The guard's harsh expression instantly dissolved into profound shock. He looked from the badge to my face, his posture stiffening into deep reverence. "Wait here, please!" he said, his tone trembling with respect.

Moments later, the heavy iron gates groaned open. It wasn't just a single officer who came out. A line of heavily armored Elite Guards marched out in perfect unison, forming two rows. At the front was General Alistair Fairchild, a high-ranking Half-Blood commander known for his ruthlessness. But as he looked at me, his eyes were filled with deep sorrow and respect.

"Vanguard Nolan," General Alistair said, his voice booming across the courtyard. "The entire camp has been waiting for you."

The soldiers around me didn't care that my dress was plain, or that I was known in high society as a "Dragonless peasant." In this military camp where true strength ruled, they knew exactly who I was. They knew the tactical genius and the hidden combat prowess I possessed.

I walked behind him through the training grounds to the Hall of Heroes. Alistair and two soldiers brought out a heavy obsidian urn.

Alistair took a deep breath. "Honor to the blood of heroes!" he shouted. He dropped to one knee, slamming his right fist over his left breast. All around the courtyard, every soldier dropped to one knee, offering their highest respect.

"If those aristocratic fools ever wrong you," Alistair whispered fiercely as he handed me the urn, "remember that the Griffin's Wing will forever be your shield."

I took the freezing urn. The moment the cold stone touched my chest, a surge of overwhelming grief and rage tore through my heart. The extreme emotional stimulation triggered something deep within my chest—something that had been dormant for twenty years.

A sudden, agonizing pain ripped through my ribs, feeling as if my bones were being crushed and my blood ignited into boiling lava. The Awakening.

I gasped, my vision flashing with pure, blinding gold. A terrifying, ancient presence stirred within my broken dragon crystal. The surrounding soldiers gasped as a faint, terrifying wave of golden dragon aura pulsed from my body, cracking the stone beneath my boots.

I gritted my teeth, tasting blood, and forced the violent power back down. I couldn't let it consume me here. I had to return to the Davidson estate, pack up my weapon blueprints, and leave that cursed family forever.