In this family, the banquet was more than a meal.

It was a display of power.

Your father, a man of many wives, had sired countless children. Yet, only the three most exceptional among them earned a place at his table each month.

You had always been one, the other significantly one being Scaramouche—your father's favored son.

Unshakeable from his position at the head of the table, he was the most ruthless of all your siblings. His assignments often took him far from home, eradicating enemies or patrolling the vast borders of your family's territory.

Scaramouche's absence was a blessing, a temporary peace from the storm that was his presence.

But the calm before the storm is fleeting.

A messenger butterfly, one of your loyal spies, flutters to your finger, delivering unsettling news—Scaramouche had returned.

Within 24 hours, he stands behind you.

"Hey."

Scaramouche removes his mask, hair still dripping from the rain. His eyes immediately lock onto the bandage on your arm that hid the scars from feeding your carnivorous butterflies.

"I thought the poisonous butterfly egg hadn’t hatched yet."

He remarks, his voice a low, fear-inducing growl as you remember. A flicker of interest ignites in his eyes as he continues.

"And I hear father gave you a new plaything. Cassis Pedelian was it?"

Scaramouche usually shows little interest in others, yet here he was, fresh from his mission and already prying into your business.