The Anomaly's Path

Lord Marius Valmont, the son of the Marquess of Highmere, had been watching the ballroom all evening with a glass of wine in his hand and a storm brewing in his chest.

His dark hair was swept back from his face in the style favored by young nobles who wanted to look older than they were, and his deep brown eyes, usually warm and kind, were cold and hard as he scanned the crowd for the one face he had hoped never to see again.

He had known Princess Cordelia since they were children.

Their families were close, they directly served the royal family, their estates bordered each other, and they had grown up together in the shadow of the Imperial Palace. He had watched her laugh and cry and grow from a shy girl with skinned knees into the most beautiful woman in the Empire.

He had stood beside her at banquets and balls, had danced with her when no one else would, and held her hand when she was scared and wiped her tears when she was sad.

He loved her.

He had always loved her.

And she knew it, but she only ever looked at him like a friend, like a brother, like someone she could trust but never love.

Then, two years ago, at her sixteenth birthday, that bastard Leo von Celestial had ruined everything.

Marius’s grip tightened on his glass, and the thin crystal creaked under the pressure. He remembered it like it was yesterday — the way that drunken fool had stumbled across the ballroom, grabbed Cordelia’s arm, and tried to kiss her in front of everyone, in front of the Emperor, in front of the entire court.

The shame on Cordelia’s face. The fury in the Emperor’s eyes. The way the whole room had frozen in horror.

And then — nothing.

Because Leo von Celestial was a Celestial.

One of the Four Great Houses.

A family with a long history and deeper pockets and enough power to make even the Emperor think twice before acting. The punishment had been light — a scolding, a few months of house arrest, a slap on the wrist that had made Marius’s blood boil.

He had wanted to kill him.

He had dreamed about it, about wrapping his hands around that scum’s throat and squeezing until the light left his eyes.

But he couldn’t. No one could. No one was stupid enough to go against one of the Great Houses, especially one with the history and power of House Celestial.

So Marius had swallowed his rage and waited.

He had heard the rumors that Leo had entered his Path Trial, and he had prayed — actually prayed, that the failure would fail. That the trial would kill him. That the world would finally be rid of the stain that was Leo von Celestial.

...And soon enough, the news came.

Leo von Celestial was dead. The trial had claimed another victim. The Celestial line had finally shown its cracks.

Marius had laughed. He had laughed until his sides hurt and tears streamed down his face, because the bastard was dead, and Cordelia was safe, and the world was finally right again.

But now — now that bastard was standing in the corner of the ballroom with his white hair and his cold eyes and his infuriatingly handsome face, alive and well and looking better than he had any right to look.

Marius’s blood boiled.

”The world may forgive you for what you did to the Princess,” he muttered under his breath, his voice low and venomous. ”But I will not. I will never forgive you.”

He looked across the ballroom at Cordelia, who was standing beside her father talking with some nobles, though her emerald eyes were fixed on the white-haired bastard in the corner. There was something in her gaze — curiosity, maybe, or confusion, and Marius felt his chest tighten.

This is my chance, he thought. Tonight, I will put that scum on his knees. I will make him beg for his life in front of everyone. I will make him apologize to the Princess for what he did.

And then — then the world will see what kind of man Leo von Celestial really is.

He set his glass down on a passing servant’s tray and straightened his coat. His friends, the same group of young nobles who had followed him since childhood, noticed the change in his posture and fell into step behind him.

”My lord,” one of them said, his voice low, ”are you sure about this?”

”I have never been more sure of anything in my life.”

”But he’s a Celestial—”

”He’s a failure. A drunk. A scumbag who should have stayed dead.” Marius’s eyes were cold. ”And tonight, I will remind everyone why he was never worthy of the name he carries.”

They moved through the crowd like wolves closing in on prey, and the nobles they passed stepped aside, sensing the tension in the air. Marius’s eyes never left Leo, the white hair, the black jacket, the way he was leaning against the pillar like he had not a care in the world.

Just watch, Marius thought. Just watch what happens to those who wrong me.

_

Leo was staring out the window, his back to the ballroom, completely unaware of the danger approaching. His white hair caught the moonlight, and his black jacket with silver embroidery seemed to shimmer in the pale glow.

He looked peaceful — relaxed, even, and that made Marius even angrier.

How dare he? Marius thought. How dare he stand there like nothing happened? Like he didn’t try to steal a kiss from the woman I love? Like he didn’t humiliate her in front of the entire court?

He stopped in front of Leo, close enough that their shadows merged on the marble floor. His friends fanned out behind him, forming a semicircle that blocked any chance of escape.

Leo didn’t turn around.

”You have some nerve showing your face here,” Marius said, his voice cutting through the silence.

Leo’s shoulders shifted slightly, a small movement, but he didn’t turn. ”I have nerve for a lot of things. You’ll have to be more specific.”

Marius’s jaw tightened. ”Don’t play dumb with me, Leo von Celestial. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

”Honestly?” Leo finally turned, and his ocean-blue eyes met Marius’s with a calm that was almost insulting. ”I don’t. I’ve done a lot of things people don’t like. You’ll have to narrow it down.”

”The Princess.”

Leo’s expression didn’t change. ”What about her?”

”You know what about her.” Marius’s voice was shaking now, raw with barely contained rage. ”Two years ago. Her sixteenth birthday. You were drunk. You grabbed her. You tried to—” He couldn’t finish the sentence. The words caught in his throat like thorns.

Leo was quiet for a moment. Then he sighed, a long, tired sound that seemed to come from somewhere deep in his chest. ”Ah. That.”

”That,” Marius spat. ”You almost ruined her. You almost—”

”I was drunk,” Leo said, cutting him off. His voice was flat, devoid of emotion. ”I was young and stupid. I made a mistake.”

”A mistake?” Marius’s voice rose, and the nobles around them began to turn, drawn by the commotion. ”You call that a mistake? You call humiliating the Princess in front of the entire court a mistake?”

”I call it a mistake because that’s what it was.” Leo’s eyes were cold now, and something flickered in them — something that looked almost like exhaustion. ”I’m not proud of it. I’m not defending it. It happened, and I can’t change it.”

”Then apologize.”

”I did. Two years ago.”

”Apologize again. Here. Now. In front of everyone.” Marius stepped closer, his fists clenched at his sides. ”Get on your knees and beg for her forgiveness like you should have done back then.”

Leo looked at him for a long moment. The silence stretched between them, heavy and tense, and the whispers around them grew louder.

”...No,” Leo said finally.

Marius’s face went red. ”No?”

”No.” Leo pushed himself off the pillar and straightened his jacket, his movements slow and deliberate. ”I’m not getting on my knees. I’m not begging. I apologized to the Princess two years ago, and she accepted my apology. Whatever grudge you’re carrying, you’re carrying it alone.”

He tilted his head, his ocean-blue eyes sweeping over Marius with a casual indifference that made the noble’s blood boil. There was no recognition in Leo’s gaze, no flicker of memory, no sign that he had any idea who he was talking to.

Just blank, polite, infuriating emptiness.

”Besides,” Leo said, his voice light, almost bored, ”who are you?”

Marius’s face went from red to purple. His hands shook at his sides, and his breath came in short, sharp gasps. The nobles around them gasped, and the whispers grew louder, more urgent, because everyone knew who Marius Valmont was — everyone except the white-haired bastard standing in front of him.

”You don’t know who I am?” Marius’s voice was low, dangerous, trembling with barely contained rage.

Leo raised an eyebrow. ”Should I?”

”I am Lord Marius Valmont, son of the Marquess of Highmere. I have known Princess Cordelia since we were children. I have stood by her side through every ball, every banquet, every important moment of her life.” He pointed a shaking finger at Leo’s chest. ”And you — you drunken fool, you tried to steal a kiss from her at her sixteenth birthday. You humiliated her in front of the entire court. And you don’t even remember me?”

Leo stared at him for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then something flickered across his face. Recognition, maybe. Or amusement.

”...Ah,” Leo said, nodding slowly. ”Now I remember who you are.”

Marius felt a surge of satisfaction.

”You’re the son of the big hat guy, right?”

The satisfaction vanished.

”The... what?” Marius’s voice cracked.

”The Marquess of Highmere,” Leo said, waving his hand vaguely. ”He wears that enormous hat at every formal event. The one with the feathers. It’s very distinctive. I always wondered if he slept in it.”

Marius’s eye twitched. His friends exchanged nervous glances. The whispers grew louder.

”You’re mocking me,” Marius said, his voice tight.

”I’m not mocking you. I’m genuinely curious about the hat. Does he have multiple hats, or does he just wear the same one everywhere? Because I’ve seen him at three different functions, and it was the same hat each time. That’s commitment.”

Marius’s hand moved to his sword hilt, but before he could draw it, Leo snapped his fingers.

”Oh, wait,” Leo said, his eyes lighting up with false recognition. ”Now I remember your name. It’s something silly, isn’t it? Something like... bastard?”

”It’s Marius.”

”Right, right. Marius. My mistake.” Leo smiled, and it was the kind of smile that made Marius want to punch him. ”I got confused because your nickname was — what was it again? The Blade of Bitch? No, that wasn’t it.”

Marius’s face was purple now. His friends were pulling at his sleeves, trying to hold him back, but he shook them off. ”It’s ’The Blade of Highmere’,” Marius hissed through gritted teeth.

Leo’s eyes widened in mock surprise. ”Ah, yes. The Blade of Highmere. The sword that never draws blood. The warrior who never fights. The champion of... what was it again? Ah, I forgot.”

The insult landed like a slap. Marius’s vision went red.

”I challenge you—” Marius started, his voice shaking.

”Wait, wait,” Leo cut him off, holding up a hand. ”I’m sorry. I’m being rude. Your real name is Marius. I remember now. Marius Valmont.” He paused, tapping his chin thoughtfully. ”The same Marius Valmont who challenged Lord Ashford to a duel last year and spent three weeks in the infirmary?”

Marius’s jaw tightened.

”The same Marius Valmont who tripped over his own feet during the knight’s tournament and landed face-first in the mud?”

Marius’s hands clenched into fists.

”The same Marius Valmont who—”

”ENOUGH!” Marius’s voice boomed across the ballroom, silencing the whispers, silencing the music, silencing everything. Marius’s hand tightened on his sword hilt. His friends shifted behind him, ready to follow his lead, ready to back him up no matter what happened next.

Marius removed his glove, slowly, deliberately, never breaking eye contact with Leo, and let it fall to the floor between them. The white fabric lay on the polished marble like a challenge, like a declaration of war.

”I, Lord Marius Valmont, son of the Marquess of Highmere, challenge you to a duel!” His voice was shaking, raw with rage, and his eyes were wild. ”To the death, Leo von Celestial! To the death!”

The ballroom went absolutely silent. The whispers exploded.

”A duel? Here?”

”To the death? Is he insane?”

”He can’t do that. The Emperor would never allow it.”

”It’s his right. The glove was thrown. The challenge was made.”

Leo stared down at the glove on the floor. His expression was unreadable, not angry or afraid, not anything that Marius had expected. He just stood there, looking at the white fabric like it was the most boring thing he had seen all night.

Then he sighed. A long, tired, put-upon sigh.

”Really?” Leo said, looking up at Marius. ”You want to do this here? Now? In front of everyone?”

”You brought this on yourself.”

”I didn’t bring anything on myself. I’ve been standing in a corner for the past hour, trying to mind my own business.” Leo gestured vaguely at the window. ”I was looking at the moon. It was peaceful. You’re the one who walked over here and started yelling.”

Marius’s eye twitched. ”That doesn’t change what you did.”

”I’m not trying to change it. I’m just saying—” Leo waved his hand at the glove again. ”—this is dramatic. Very dramatic. Did you practice that speech beforehand, or did you come up with it on the spot?”

Marius’s face twisted with fury, and he took a step closer, his hand still gripping the hilt of his sword. His voice dropped to a low, venomous hiss, loud enough for the nobles around them to hear but quiet enough to feel like a private threat. ”Shut your mouth, you bastard. Draw your blade and fight me in a duel to the death.”

Leo didn’t move. He just raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

A slow, ugly smile spread across Marius’s face — the kind of smile that made the people standing nearby shift uncomfortably. ”Or what? Do you want to cry and let your family clean up your mess like always? Do you want your dear sister to come running to save you again?”

Leo’s expression didn’t change, but something cold flickered in his eyes.

Marius leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper that carried malice like poison. ”Sylvia, was it? The black-haired one. I’ve heard stories about her. They say she’s beautiful. They say she’s fierce.”

His smile widened, and his friends behind him chuckled nervously, egged on by his tone. ”Perhaps after I’m done with you, I’ll introduce myself properly. Maybe she needs a real man to show her what—”

The words died in his throat because he felt a chill run down his spine. One more word, and his head would be rolling on the floor.

A cold voice cut through the silence. ”Fine...”

Leo stepped forward, his ocean-blue eyes freezing. ”Let’s duel to the death. But all of you — come at me at once.”