The Unwanted Northern Heiress Shines Again

Elaine Serrano POV:

The heavy oak door of my bedchamber clicked shut behind me, but it couldn't completely muffle the laughter and celebration coming from the main hall. In the dim corridor, my loyal personal maid, Phoebe, stood trembling in the shadows.

Without a word, she hurried to my side, draping a warm shawl over my shivering shoulders, and fell into step behind me as we walked down the freezing stone corridor.

The commotion had already drawn the night staff out of the woodwork. The servants, who used to bow so low their noses nearly touched the floor whenever I passed, now openly lined the hallway, not even bothering to hide their gloating stares or their malicious whispers.

"Did you hear? Lord Brian stripped her title. She's just a personal maid now," a scullery maid whispered loudly.

"About time. She's just a cursed Dragonless jinx anyway," a guard snickered, his eyes shamelessly raking over my silk gown.

I felt Phoebe shaking with rage behind me, but I didn't stop. In my past life, these whispers were like knives to my heart. Now, they were just the buzzing of flies destined for the slaughterhouse.

When I finally pushed open the door to my own chambers, the biting cold hit me instantly. The dragon-crystal heater was completely dead. Not a single spark of energy had been provided for the night.

The moment the door clicked shut, sealing us inside, Phoebe finally collapsed to her knees.

"My lady... how could he? How could Lord Brian do this?!" Phoebe sobbed, her fingers digging desperately into the cold floorboards. "He knew how much that night destroyed you! How could he use the slaughter of your family as a weapon to humiliate you in front of everyone?!"

Looking at Phoebe, my childhood companion who shared my deepest trauma, the last trace of patience in my heart vanished.

"Stand up, Phoebe," I said, my voice dropping to an eerie, frozen whisper. I knelt and gently wiped the tears from her face. "Tears cannot wash away the blood of our families. Brian said House Serrano is nothing but a dead graveyard. Then it is time we show him how the ghosts from that graveyard feast."

I stood up and walked to the row of massive dowry chests in the corner of the room. They were made of ironwood, unique to the North, and branded with my family's snow-wolf sigil.

This was everything I had brought from House Serrano. It was also my ticket out of this disgusting cage.

I opened one of the chests and took out a heavy ledger from a smaller box. My mother had left it to me. It recorded all the assets and connections of House Serrano.

By the light of the dragon-crystal lamp, I began to carefully inventory my dowry.

House Serrano. Once the strongest shield of the North, guarding the realm for the Raymond dynasty for generations.

A year ago, my father and six brothers died on the southern battlefield. Their dragonfire was extinguished when they were heavily surrounded. Shortly after, Veskarian assassins slipped through the broken defense line like ghosts, infiltrating our homeland. My mother, my sisters-in-law, and all the old and weak were brutally slaughtered in pools of their own blood.

The official story was that it was a mad act of revenge by the enemy for my father and brothers' past victories.

I had believed it. But now, in my second life, I knew it wasn't that simple.

Brittaney Kirk... her shadow loomed over that tragedy. Back then, it was Brittaney's elite Winged squadron that was supposed to reinforce my father. But they were mysteriously "delayed." Their delay cost the lives of my father and brothers, which allowed the assassins to breach the North.

In my past life, I thought it was a tragic accident. But after being burned alive by her dragonfire, a chilling realization crept into my mind: what if she had intentionally let my family die?

A sharp pain shot through my chest. I gripped the edge of the chest, gasping for breath. The fire of vengeance burned in my veins.

But it wasn't time for that. First, I had to escape this cage.

It wasn't just these material goods in the ledger. There were also eighty servants who had come with me to the Castro estate. They were born into the service of my house, loyal only to me.

Brian and the Castros all assumed that once I married into their family, these people and properties naturally belonged to them.

They were wrong.

According to the laws of the kingdom, a wife's dowry belongs to her and her alone, unless she willingly gifts it away.

And the "Rejection Ritual" was the only form of marital dissolution that allowed the female to leave with her entire dowry, no questions asked.

It required the consent of both parties, or... a direct command from the Dragon King himself.

Brian wanted his new bride and his glory. I wanted my freedom and my dignity. We would settle this the old-fashioned way, the dragon way.

I closed the ledger and put it back. The plan was clear in my mind.

The Castros thought they controlled everything, but they didn't know that my father, Corbin Serrano, had been one of King Aurthur's most trusted Dragon Lords. He had even saved the King's life when His Majesty was a boy.

The Castros didn't know about that favor. But the King would remember.

All I needed was a chance to see him.

"Starting tomorrow morning," I ordered Phoebe, my tone absolute and merciless. "Send our hidden guards to every Serrano-owned business, farm, and mine. Cease all fund transfers to the Castro estate. Cut off their food supplies, their winter clothing, their weapon shipments, and the Royal Dragon Healer's fees. Freeze every single copper coin."

Phoebe's eyes ignited with a fierce, vengeful fire. "You mean... we cut them off completely?"

"Completely," I turned to face her. "Since Brittaney loathes the 'petty chores' of managing a Dragon Court, let's see how her glorious dragonfire conjures bread out of thin air."

"Prepare ink and parchment," I said, my gaze shifting toward the distant, towering spires of the Dragon Palace. "I am writing to the Dragon King."

After the last word was written, I blew the ink dry, folded the letter, and sealed it with the Serrano family crest—a snow-wolf forged in blood and iron.

"Find the most reliable messenger among our loyal guards," I ordered, handing the heavy envelope to Phoebe. "Ride through the night. Deliver this straight to the Dragon Palace."