The Heiress Bound By Ruthless King

The orphanage was abuzz with an unusual excitement, the kind that only came with celebration. Strangers in tailored suits moved through the space, their smiles polished, their laughter practiced, as cameras captured their generosity. Tables groaned under the weight of lavish dishes, while brightly wrapped gifts gleamed in the sunlight, like treasures waiting to be claimed.

She had watched it all with a wide smile, bouncing on her toes, her heart thrumming with delight. The gifts had been picked with great care-dolls with glassy eyes, books filled with grand adventures, toy soldiers and stuffed animals soft as clouds. She had chosen many of them herself, pointing at catalogs with a firm little finger, certain that each one would make a child happy.

It was a perfect day.

And it was within those very walls that she first saw Kael. An Édienne-one of the city's few respected families, much like her own.

He had looked like a prince from the pages of her childhood fairytales-tall and poised, his features striking, as if painted with deliberate, masterful strokes. At twelve, Kael carried himself with the kind of quiet confidence that Ríona had only ever seen in grown-ups, his school uniform crisp, his movements careful and precise. When he approached, it was with measured steps, as though the very air shifted to accommodate his presence, an unseen light trailing in his wake.

And Ríona had stared at him with open curiosity.

"Lady Dawnstar," a voice cut through the air, deep and polished like the grand piano in her family's salon. Kael's grandfather. He was tall and old, his suit pressed to perfection, his sharp gaze moving over the room like he was inspecting something. He greeted Ríona's mother with a polite nod, though his eyes never lost their weight.

"It is always a pleasure to see your family's generosity," he said, his voice smooth but distant. Then his gaze dropped to her. "And this must be little Ríona."

Ríona's cheeks warmed. Instinctively, she pressed herself against her mother's side, her small hands twisting in the silk of Jianna's gown. She did not often feel small. The world had, for as long as she could remember, arranged itself around her, bending to her laughter, her wants, her delight. But there was something about the way the old man looked at her that made her feel observed in a way she did not entirely understand.

Her mother chuckled softly, smoothing a hand over her daughter's hair. "This is Mr. Édienne, a close acquaintance of your grandfather," she said. "You must greet him properly, my dear."

Ríona hesitated only for a breath before dipping into a practiced bow, her head bent low.

"I hear you chose all these gifts yourself," the old man continued, his voice soften.

At this, her shyness fell away like a silk ribbon slipping undone. Ríona straightened, her earlier hesitation replaced with enthusiasm. "Yes!" she declared, nodding so fervently that her curls bounced. "They are all my favorites! The children love them!"

"How thoughtful," he murmured, though his voice carried no particular inflection, no indication of whether he truly meant the words. Then, turning back to Jianna, he added, "You must be proud of her."

Jianna Kim, ever the vision of effortless elegance, smiled in the way only she could-like light through fine crystal, something soft yet dazzling in its quiet brilliance. She was a woman who inspired whispered admiration, the kind of beauty that did not demand attention but commanded it all the same.

Ríona, still preening under the weight of the conversation, turned to Kael then, expectant. She had grown accustomed to being met with laughter, with praise, with indulgent amusement at her every word. The world, after all, had always been a mirror for her joy, reflecting it back in kind.

But Kael said nothing. He just stood there, perfectly still, his hands behind his back. He wasn't even looking at her-wasn't looking at anyone, really. His gaze was somewhere else, distant, uninterested, like none of this mattered to him.

Ríona's brows furrowed. People always paid attention to her. They always smiled, always said something nice, always-something.

But Kael was different.

She huffed quietly, lips pursing.

It was Ríona's first charity event when she first met Kael, on a spring morning at her birthday celebration.

"Do you hate me?"

She stood before Kael, arms crossed, chin tilted upward, her eyes-large and expectant-searching his for something, anything. The summer sun draped golden light over the two of them, catching in the loose strands of her auburn hair.

Kael did not sigh, nor did he frown. He merely regarded her in the same way one might acknowledge an autumn breeze-felt, but forgotten the moment it passed.

"I don't hate you," he said at last. It was rare for him to respond at all, but today, for whatever reason, he did. "I just don't like children."

Ríona blinked, as if the very idea baffled her. "Why not?"

"Because you're insufferable."