The Villain Professor's Second Chance

Her white winter hair, braided tightly behind her, brushed against her back with each step as she walked the long corridor toward her chambers. The mansion, draped in ice and shadow, felt even more oppressive than usual. Outside, the endless snow-covered peaks of Icevern stretched toward the gray sky, the wind howling like a beast.

But even in the heart of this icy fortress, Sophie felt a different kind of cold creeping into her bones—the cold of uncertainty.

As she approached her room, two familiar figures stepped out from behind one of the grand pillars. It was Annalise, her little sister, and Sharon, her trusted adjutant. Annalise, with her pale complexion and bright blue eyes, shot her an overprotective look as she hurried toward her.

She wore her usual fur-lined cloak, the same one she used to drape around Sophie whenever she thought her sister was cold. Sharon, taller and more reserved, followed close behind, her sharp gaze ever-watchful.

"Sis!" Annalise's voice, though soft, carried a mixture of concern and frustration. "Why didn't you tell me about the meeting with Lancefroz earlier? You know how I worry."

Sophie managed a faint smile, trying to hide the turbulence in her chest. "I didn't want to trouble you, Annalise. Besides, it was just a conversation. Nothing more."

"Nothing more?" Annalise scoffed. "I know you, big sis. You're never 'just' having conversations when you leave looking like that." She gestured to the envelope in Sophie's hand. "What did he give you this time?"n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

Sophie sighed and glanced at Sharon, who raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Sharon rarely spoke unless necessary, but her presence was always a comfort. Together, the three of them entered Sophie's chambers.

Sophie's room was as it always had been—spacious, elegant, but simple. A large canopy bed draped with heavy furs dominated one side of the room, while a polished wooden desk sat beneath the tall windows that overlooked the snowy expanse outside.

Bookshelves lined the walls, filled with tomes of strategy, history, and knightly honor—things that Sophie had spent years studying to uphold her principles as a knight.

Annalise flopped down onto the bed, her usual casualness contrasting with the formality of the room. Sharon took a seat by the window, watching the swirling snow outside as if preparing for anything to go wrong. Sophie, still clutching the envelope, sat at the small table near the fireplace, the warmth doing little to ease the knot in her stomach.

"Breakfast would've been nice, you know," Annalise remarked, leaning back on her elbows. "You always skip it when you're stressed, and I'm going to have to make sure you eat something before we go anywhere else today."

Sharon gave her a small glance, as if to say, Now's not the time. Sophie ignored them both for a moment, staring at the envelope as if it might burst into flames at any second.

"My Lady," Sharon said gently, "perhaps it is time to open it."

Sophie took a deep breath, then finally broke the seal on the envelope and unfolded the letter inside. Her eyes scanned the first few lines, and her grip tightened on the paper. The words, cold and precise, cut deeper than she had expected.

To Duke Lancefroz von Icevern,

It is with careful consideration that I write to inform you of the decision to terminate my engagement with your sister, Sophie von Icevern. Our arrangement, as you are well aware, was a political maneuver from the outset. I entered into it with the understanding that it would bring power and stability to both our houses, especially during a time when such alliances were necessary.

However, upon reevaluation, I find that there is no longer any strategic advantage to maintaining this engagement. Our families have diverged in their respective paths, and I see no further benefit to continuing this connection.

Furthermore, it has become clear to me that Sophie is unsuitable for the role I had envisioned for her. Her inability to protect her own lands during the Goblin King's uprising reflects poorly not only on her as a knight but on the values she claims to uphold. I had hoped that by this point in her life, she would have grown into a capable and formidable ally.

Instead, I have witnessed repeated failures in her duties as both a knight and a protector of her family's legacy.

I have no emotional attachment to your sister, nor do I have any desire to salvage what remains of this arrangement. The engagement, as far as I am concerned, is a relic of a political past that no longer serves either of us. It is time to move forward, unhindered by connections that offer no tangible benefit.

Therefore, I declare that the break in this engagement is final and irrevocable. There will be no room for reconciliation, nor any further discussion on the matter. Our families will go their separate ways, and any future dealings will be strictly professional, should they occur at all.

I trust that you will convey this decision to your sister, as I see no reason to correspond with her directly on this matter.

Sincerely,

Draven Arcanum von Drakhan

Sophie read the last line, her face an expressionless mask, but inside, the words felt like cold steel slicing through her. She wasn't hurt by Draven's indifference—no, she had expected as much from him. What stung was the way he framed her failures so blatantly, so cruelly. A failure. That's how he saw her.

Her hands trembled slightly as she folded the letter and set it on the table. Sharon, having read over her shoulder, clenched her fists in silent fury, her face betraying none of the rage building inside her.

"That bastard," Sharon muttered through gritted teeth. "How dare he?"

Sophie said nothing, staring into the flickering flames of the fireplace. She had never cared for Draven's approval, but the way he had laid out her weaknesses, her perceived failures—it was as if he had seen through every insecurity she had ever buried and dragged it into the light.

"You're free from him now," Annalise chimed in, though her voice was quieter, lacking her usual fire. "It's a good thing, big sis. That cold, ruthless, arrogant bastard won't be in your life anymore. No more engagement hanging over your head."

Sophie nodded, her expression unreadable. "Yes," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I suppose that's true."

But something was gnawing at Annalise. As much as she hated Draven, a memory surfaced—one that didn't quite fit the image of the cold, indifferent man the letter painted. Annalise remembered clearly, the time Draven had barged into Lancefroz's study without a hint of formality, demanding to send reinforcements to protect Sophie during the goblin uprising.

His voice had been filled with concern, his sharp eyes betraying more emotion than he likely intended.

After securing Sophie's safety, he had turned to her, asking if she wanted to end the engagement. At the time, Annalise had said yes without hesitation, eager to rid her sister of the burden of a political marriage. And yet, she had seen something then—something unspoken in Draven's eyes, a lingering care for Sophie, even though his cold facade rarely wavered.

Annalise shook the thought from her mind. What did it matter now? She was happy the engagement was broken. Truly, she was. But something about it felt... off.

Like there was more to this than either she or Sophie understood. Draven had changed, and not for the better.

But in front of her sister, she wouldn't admit to any of this. She wouldn't let Sophie see her doubts. Instead, she forced a smile, her voice light and teasing. "It's fine, sis. Really. It's a good thing to have nothing more to do with that cold, arrogant bastard.

You're finally free from that guy."

Sophie looked at her, and for the first time in what felt like ages, she smiled. It was a soft, genuine smile, one that brought warmth to the otherwise cold room. But to Annalise, that smile didn't feel like the victory she had expected. There was something sad behind it, a flicker of emotion that she couldn't quite place.

"Thank you, Annalise," Sophie said, her voice warm but tinged with a melancholy that her sister couldn't ignore.

As Sharon stood by the window, still fuming over Draven's words, Annalise couldn't help but wonder—what had really changed between Draven and Sophie? And why, despite everything, did Sophie's smile seem so sad?