In a different room in the castle, Lady Blaire was reading something, a book, old enough to be eaten by mites and mold. Her unwavering gaze had not moved from it for an hour or more; she did not look up as her husband entered.

"I have been thinking," he said, "Thinking and thinking is all I do nowadays." He sat down on the bed beside her.

"And what are your thought says, dear husband?" She said, not taking her eyes from the book. Not even giving him so much of a glance.

He sighed heavily. "You know how we were always taught that there are three kinds of people? The ones who think they're clever, those who think they aren't, and those who don't care either way. Well, I'm here to tell you that's wrong. There are only two kinds: those who think they're clever but really aren't, and those who are clever but don't realize it."

Lady Blaire looked at her husband with a newfound interest. "What's this new talk about?"

"Nothing, just saying people who actually think they're clever when they're not. It's very common these days. You've seen them. They sit around all day talking about things like philosophy and politics, but their heads are empty. But then again, there's nothing wrong with being stupid if you're happy." He unbuttoned his shirt slowly and meticulously.

"Is that why you came here, to talk about what's clever and not?" She looked at her husband, his smooth and hairless chest gleaming in the candlelight. His skin was pale and soft, and his stomach flat and hard.

"No," he replied. "I came because I wanted to ask you something." He slouched back on the bed, still looking at her.

"and that would be?" She asked, unenthusiastically.

"I heard you've slept with one of our guests."

Lady Blaire's eyes widened in shock and disbelief. "What? How dare you accuse me of such a thing? That's preposterous!" she exclaimed, her voice rising in anger.

Augustus raised his eyebrows, seemingly amused by his wife's reaction. "Oh, don't be so defensive, my dear. I have my sources, and they're quite reliable."

Lady Blaire stood up from the bed, her fists clenched at her sides. "And who might these sources be? Some servant spreading false rumors, I suppose?"

Augustus smiled. "No, not a servant. Young master Damien himself, actually."

"Damien? That insolent boy has been spreading lies about me?" Lady Blaire seethed with anger.

Augusts shrugged nonchalantly. "It's not like I'm accusing you of anything. I just wanted to confirm the rumors. After all, we don't want any scandals tarnishing our reputation."

Lady Blaire's face twisted in disgust. "Scandals? You mean to say that you care more about our reputation than our marriage?"

Augustus rolled his eyes. "Of course not, my dear. But you have to admit, it would be quite embarrassing if our guests were gossiping about you behind your back."

Lady Blaire glared at her husband, her anger boiling over. "You're unbelievable. Instead of trusting and supporting me, you choose to believe baseless rumors spread by a young boy who probably has nothing better to do than stir up trouble."

Augustus stood up from the bed and walked towards his wife, his tone turning cold and accusatory. "And what if the rumors are true, Blaire? What if you really did sleep with Damien? Are you going to deny it?"

Lady Blaire's face went pale with shock and disbelief. "I...I don't know what you're talking about. How could you even suggest such a thing?"

Augustus leaned in closer to his wife, his breath hot on her face. "Don't play dumb with me, Blaire. I know you've been spending a lot of time with Damien lately. Is there something going on between you two?"

Lady Blaire stepped back, her eyes filled with tears of anger and frustration. "I can't believe you're even asking me that. You know how much I love you, Augustus. How could you ever doubt my loyalty?"

Augustus crossed his arms over his chest, his expression stern and unforgiving. "Actions speak louder than words, my dear. And right now, your actions are very suspect."

The room fell silent as Lady Blaire and Augustus stared at each other, their expressions filled with anger and hurt.

Finally, Lady Blaire turned away, her shoulders shaking with suppressed sobs. "I'm sorry," she said quietly. "But I cannot allow myself to be treated this way."

She stormed off the room, opening the door wide with a loud thud.

Augustus smiled as he looked at his wife's retreating back.

"Who could resist the temptation to sample those assets?" He widened his arms and fell to the bed, staring at the ceiling, just staring at the ceiling...

***

In a different place, a little away from the castle, Damien was enjoying his leisure time. He dipped his legs on the small pond, and a stream of cold energy drizzled throughout him.

Magic. He thought.

Apart from the skirmishes and constant threats of death, this world was beautiful.

He watched the reflection of the moon dancing across the ripples of the water. He let out a contented sigh and closed his eyes, feeling the gentle breeze brushing against his skin. Suddenly, he felt a rush of cold energy surging through him, filling his body with a tingling sensation. He shuddered and opened his eyes, marveling at the sight before him.

The water in the pond had turned a deep shade of blue, shimmering like diamonds in the moonlight. A faint mist began to rise from the surface of the water, swirling around Damien's legs like an ethereal serpent. He felt a strange power emanating from the pond, and he knew that he had stumbled upon something magical.

As he gazed into the depths of the pond, he saw strange shapes and shadows moving beneath the surface, their forms twisting and contorting like living things. He wondered if they were the spirits of the water, guardians of this mystical place.

Damien reached out his hand and plunged it into the water, feeling the icy coldness enveloping his fingers. He felt a jolt of electricity shoot up his arm as he made contact with the water, but it didn't hurt him, rather it enveloped him and cradled him like a mother's touch.

He could feel something inside him resonating with the coldness in the pond, the water had frozen, but he felt nothing but comfort in him.

What's going on?

Deep inside him, he knew what was happening.

Awakening, he thought.

He was awakening his magical ability.

But how? On what basis?

The awakened ones, they're people who have unlocked their affinity with the mana.

It was rare among common folks but slightly common among noble houses, due to their bloodlines and the abundant availability of resources.

But for one to awaken, then something life-threatening or heart-thumping must happen.

Calen awakened when he saw his sister being chased by a hungry wolf. He then sliced the wolf with just a wooden stick.

Damien always thought, if he ever awakened, it must be in the middle of a large orgasm or similar lustful experiences, but this...awakening while doing nothing...it was preposterous. It was the first case he heard in the entirety of the novel.

"You!!" He heard an angry shout from behind. "What idiocy did you say to Augustus?" Blaire asked, her nostrils flaring up and down.

Damien looked at the angry lady and back at the pond, then again at her. He did it again and again, in a matter of moments.

It can't be? She can't be, right?

She was the only one left in the entire duchy to be influenced by the ring. How?

He has been intensively searching his brain to at least get some information about the ring and its power or someone remotely even capable of disrupting its power, but there was none.

The ring was only used in a very small arc- the villain just used the ring on Calen -maddened hero burnt an entire village -kills the wielder of the ring and regains consciousness- that's it. That was all there was, or that was all he remembers.

"What are you looking at- oh my god! Is that ice?" She dashed towards him and craned at the icy pond. "How? How come there is ice here?" She leaned down and touched the ice. it was real, like really real ice.

Snow only visits at the end of the year. This was not the end of the year, this was damn too early for that. So how did it happen?

Her gaze then suddenly shifted to the legs inside the frozen pond. With a horror-struck expression, she yelled. "Are you okay? Are your legs frozen? Let me get my father, wait here." She was about to turn when she heard his voice.

"Wait," he said. "I think this is me."

She abruptly stopped on her track. "What do you mean, it's you?"

"The ice," he said, looking at the crystalized water, feeling a connection- an overwhelming emotion like he was reuniting with a lover after so long. He sucked in the icy air, rejuvenating on it. "I think I can call upon the ice."

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