Vengeance of The Reborn Heir

A Clean Cut

“What do you mean by ‘return everything’?” Calista snapped, whirling back to face Ronan.

“Aren’t you, the heir of House Crowne, ashamed to take back gifts you’ve already given?”

As she spoke, she hugged the lacquered weapon case tightly to her chest, her left hand subtly slipped behind her back.

That dagger was no trinket.

It concerned the upcoming final evaluations at the Royal Martial Academy.

Calista herself might not need it, but Lucien certainly did.

Not to mention, it was a B-rank extraordinary weapon worth millions, something even Rank 7 grandmasters would kill for.

As for the bracelet, it had been crafted by a Martial Saint and could conjure an invincible shield for three minutes.

It was even more priceless and irreplaceable, especially when facing a life-or-death crisis.

The thought of surrendering either piece made her stomach knot.

A faint, mocking smile curled at Ronan’s lips.

“Didn’t you just declare you want no ties with House Crowne?” Ronan asked calmly.

“If so, why cling to Crowne property? You can’t demand a clean break while keeping everything that came with the bond. Cutting ties means returning it all. Isn’t that right?”

Calista tried to argue, but no words came.

Before she could scramble for an excuse, Ronan ended it flatly.

“You see, I’m not suggesting, I’m requesting. You have no right to negotiate.”

Calista’s retort died in her throat.

The logic was airtight, and yet... she truly couldn’t bring herself to give them back.

Meanwhile, onlookers started to murmur in agreement.

“He’s right. She can’t have it both ways.”

“Wants the perks but none of the responsibility. How convenient.”

“Even a hired courtesan knows that nothing comes without a price.”

A few people snickered.

“Come on, that’s a bit harsh,” someone scoffed and chuckled. “She’s the Sable’s most famous beauty. Surely she’s not shameless enough for that.”

The thinly veiled sarcasm from the onlookers cut deep, and Calista’s cheeks flushed.

Yet she couldn’t find a single argument to refute them.

Seeing her hesitation, a chill crept over Ronan’s face, his voice turning icy.

“Did you think House Crowne was so easily milked?” he asked. “That you could pocket our treasures and walk away whenever it suited you?”

Calista faltered, words caught behind clenched teeth.

Just then, a stern voice cut in.

“Is this how the mighty Crowne heir treats a lady? Demanding gifts back after offering them so ‘generously’?”

Heads turned as a tall man stepped out of the crowd.

Some recognized him and whispered in confusion.

“Isn’t that Lucien Cross, the down-and-out kid from our neighboring town, who got into Royal Martial Academy? What’s he doing here?”

“And what does Calista Sable’s affair have to do with him? Why is he sticking his nose in?”

Lucien Cross ignored the murmurs.

He stepped forward, the sunlight catching the insignia of Thalara Royal Martial University stitched onto his collar.

He positioned himself protectively in front of Calista.

"Demanding the return of a gift, especially one given willingly, doesn’t reflect well on your status. Don’t you agree?"

Lucien spoke with righteous authority, his tone laced with subtle mockery and a challenge aimed at Ronan.

Seeing Lucien step in to defend her, Calista’s eyes lit up, and a wave of relief washed over her.

“Lucien… you came? I thought I lost you in the crowd. Thank you for standing up for me like this.”

“You never have to face this kind of humiliation alone. Not as long as I’m here,” Lucien said with a comforting smile.

Ronan, however, narrowed his gaze.

His rival, the Chosen One, had arrived.

Did Lucien think a few words could make him change his mind?

Dream on.

Ronan straightened, his voice calm and his lips curled up.

"Oh? And who exactly are you to comment on the dealings between House Crowne and the Sables?"

"Lucien Cross," Lucien replied. "Fellow student. Friend to Calista. And someone who doesn’t turn his back on basic decency."

He knew Ronan’s status, but he wasn’t intimidated, he believed he was standing for justice.

Ronan nodded calmly, then his tone sharpened.

“Since you’re Calista’s friend, you must know about our engagement. And surely you understand, the dagger and the bracelet were never ‘gifts’ in the sentimental sense. They were betrothal offerings, symbols of a political contract between two noble houses. Don’t you?”

He let the sarcasm drip from his words.

“Now, Calista Sable has publicly dissolved that contract, of her own accord, in front of hundreds of witnesses. So tell me, what’s wrong with reclaiming items tied to the engagement? Pray tell, what right do you have to demand I give them away for free?”

Lucien paused, but quickly found a retort, “Aren’t you the mighty Crowne heir? And yet you’re acting so petty, have you no shame?”

Ronan couldn’t help but chuckle mockingly, “Oh, so you mean just because I’m the mighty Crowne heir, I should let others bleed my house dry without resistance? Are you foolish, or do you think I am?”

Lucien’s jaw tightened at the accusation.

However, Ronan had no interest in him anymore, he turned back to Calista, his voice ice-cold.

“You want your freedom, Calista? Then take all of it. Not just the status. Not just the title of ‘ex-fiancée.’ Return the weapons, the artifacts, the resources my house poured into you for ten years. Or are you only interested in freedom when it comes with free treasure?”

“My question is simple. Will you return them, or not?”