Chapter 8

Ondine thought the design sketches were mediocre—formulaic, lacking any real spark.

Looks like Seraphine's professional skills were nothing special after all.

Flynn, however, saw through the façade.

The sketches looked ordinary on the surface, but the flow of lines and control of proportions were incredibly precise—deliberately restrained. Hiding her edge.

The boss was playing it down.

Ondine couldn't see it. She assumed Seraphine simply lacked skill and felt secretly pleased.

"Sera, I've been working on some new sketches lately. I'll bring them by for you to look at. You can give me some pointers." Ondine smiled, her tone carrying a hint of superiority.

So what if she wasn't the Windsor family's biological daughter? She'd received the best education since childhood. Her design skills were top-tier among her peers.

Seraphine, who'd studied design in some backwater like the Wipere family—what could she possibly know?

Once Flynn saw her sketches, he'd realize who the truly talented one was.

Seraphine didn't even lift her eyes.

After Ondine left, Flynn lowered his voice. "Boss, that Ms. Windsor seems… a bit hostile toward you."

"I know." Seraphine turned a page of her sketches. "Keep going."

Flynn didn't dare say more and continued the lesson.

But he knew full well—if Ondine tried anything, given the boss's temperament, she'd regret it.

That afternoon, Ondine brought her own designs.

Three carefully rendered sketches.

"Mr. Campbell, these are my recent works. Please critique them." Ondine respectfully handed over the sketches, though her eyes flicked toward Seraphine, watching for a reaction.

Flynn took the sketches and glanced over them, nodding perfunctorily. "Not bad. The composition and color palette are well done. You clearly have talent."

Ondine smiled modestly. "You're too kind, Mr. Campbell. I still have much to learn from Sera."

She turned to Seraphine. "Sera, what do you think? Any suggestions?"

Only then did Seraphine glance at the three sketches.

For exactly three seconds.

"Proportions are off," she said flatly.

Ondine's smile froze. "What?"

"The third sketch—the neckline proportions are wrong." Seraphine's tone was matter-of-fact. "The left shoulder line is 0.3 centimeters higher than the right. The whole design will shift left. The first sketch's waistline is cinched too tightly. A model wearing it will get creases. The second sketch's sleeve lace is too elaborate. It steals the visual focus from the overall design."

She finished in one breath, her pace steady and deliberate. Every word carved with precision.

Ondine's expression shifted.

She looked closely at her sketches. The left shoulder line was indeed slightly higher than the right—so subtle it was almost invisible to the naked eye.

The waistline and sleeve issues? She'd never even noticed.

How had Seraphine spotted them?

"Sera, you have a sharp eye." Ondine forced a smile. "I'll go fix these right away."

She turned and left the study. The smile vanished completely.

Zane happened to pass by. Seeing her expression, he asked quietly, "What happened?"

Ondine bit her lip. "Seraphine said there were problems with my designs."

Zane frowned. "She did that on purpose, didn't she? She's trying to intimidate you."

Ondine clenched her fists.

She thought so too.

But the problem was… every critique Seraphine had made, upon closer inspection, was correct.

That made her even more uncomfortable.

"Ms. Windsor, you can't just take this lying down," Zane said in a low voice. "Ms. Wipere just got here and she's already trying to overshadow you. What's it going to be like later? You need to find a way to show Mr. and Mrs. Windsor who the truly capable one is."

Ondine took a deep breath. Her gaze hardened with resolve.

"You're right." Her lips curved. "I'll make sure they see."

At the hospital, Orion's condition improved with each passing day.

Octavius sat beside the bed, watching Orion's face regain its color. A rare warmth flickered in his eyes. "Grandpa, how are you feeling?"

"Much better." Orion leaned against the headboard, looking spry and energetic—nothing like the man who'd been clinging to life in the ICU days ago. "That young woman's medical skills are miraculous. She brought me back from the brink."

He paused, then shifted gears. "By the way, when are you planning to finalize your engagement with the Windsor girl?"

Octavius's brow furrowed slightly. "Grandpa, there's no rush."

"No rush?" Orion's eyes widened. "You're already twenty-eight."

"I want to call off the engagement," Octavius said evenly.

Orion's face changed instantly. "What did you just say?"

"I have no interest in this arrangement." Octavius's tone remained calm. "Rather than drag it out and waste her time, it's better to end it now."

"You—!" Orion slapped the bed in frustration. "You ungrateful brat! What nonsense are you spouting? Wesley saved my life back then! This engagement was agreed upon by both families!"

"Arranged marriages are outdated," Octavius replied, his expression unchanged. "Besides, I haven't even met the Windsor family's daughter. How can we talk about marriage?"

Orion's chest heaved with anger. Just as he was about to explode, something occurred to him. His expression turned peculiar. "Wait. You said you haven't met the Windsor daughter, but the girl who saved me last time…"

"She's the Windsor family's biological daughter. Seraphine." Octavius's tone shifted ever so slightly as he said her name.

Orion blinked. "The biological daughter? Then who's your fiancée?"

"The one I'm engaged to is the woman the Windsor family thought was their biological daughter—their adopted daughter, Ondine." Octavius explained. "The Windsor family had a child mix-up years ago. Their real daughter was lost for twenty years and only recently found. Before that, they raised Ondine as their own. Naturally, the engagement defaulted to her."

Orion, sharp as ever, didn't dwell on the old scandal. Instead, he latched onto the subtle shift in his grandson's tone.

He narrowed his eyes, studying Octavius carefully.

This brat had been a cold-faced demon king since childhood, treating everyone with the same unapproachable air.

But just now, when he mentioned that girl, his eyes had changed.

"You're interested in her?" Orion asked bluntly.

Octavius paused. "No."

"No?" Orion scoffed. "Your eyes practically lit up. You call that 'no'?"

Octavius pressed his lips together and said nothing.

But Orion, instead of looking pleased, furrowed his brow and let out a heavy sigh. "This is tricky."

He leaned back against the headboard, fingers tapping the blanket, his face clouded with concern. "The engagement was made with the Windsor family's daughter. Now that the biological daughter is back, logically, the engagement should fall to her. But if you've already taken a liking to the girl the first time you met her, and I go running to the Windsor family asking to swap daughters, what will they think?"

He grew more troubled the more he thought about it. "They'll think the FitzRoy family falls for anyone at first sight—that we're snubbing the adopted daughter to curry favor with the real one. Wesley saved my life. I can't do something that'll make people talk behind our backs."

Octavius was silent for a moment. "That's why I want to call off the engagement."