The Neglected Heiress: Now Watch Me Rule

Arlene Sanchez POV:

"Sign the document, Arlene, or I swear to Ukrae you will rot in the border barracks until you are sold off like cattle."

The sharp bark of my father's voice cut through the ringing in my ears.

The smell hit me first.

It was the sharp tang of antiseptic mixed with expensive oiled leather and old parchment.

I blinked against the harsh glare of the gas lamps, my hands resting flat against the dark oak table of the Court of Duty mediation chamber.

My fingers were intact.

They were slender, calloused from sword grips, but entirely whole.

There was no blood pooling beneath my fingernails.

There was no jagged shard of dragonblood tearing through my ribcage, burning my flesh to ash from the inside out while Dominic sneered down at me.

I was back.

It was the twentieth year of my life, the exact afternoon the magistrate finalized the dissolution of my parents' marriage and forced a division of their bloodline.

Across the polished wood, Lucien Kowalski tapped his signet ring against the desk.

The heavy gold clinked in rhythmic, impatient strikes.

Beside him sat my half-sister, Katharina.

She wore pale blue muslin, her golden hair woven with fragile white ribbons that made her look like an injured bird.

"The Court of Duty has acknowledged the petition for family severance," the magistrate droned, pushing his round spectacles up his hooked nose.

He shuffled three heavy sheets of imperial vellum stamped with the crest of Vorrath Keep.

"Under the imperial statutes governing human subjects, the daughters of blood must declare their allegiance. Mistress Katharina Kowalski, you have the floor."

Katharina did not hesitate.

Her shoulders gave a delicate, practiced tremor.

Large, crystalline tears welled in her pale blue eyes before spilling over her porcelain cheeks.

She turned toward Lucien, her small hands clutching the rough wool of his officer tunic.

"Father," Katharina whispered, her voice cracking in just the right place.

"I could never leave you. I cannot abandon Dominic and Conrad. The Kowalski barracks are my home. Whatever hardships come, my duty remains with our family's honor."

Her words were soft, yet perfectly pitched to echo off the stone walls of the chamber.

Lucien's hard, weathered jaw relaxed.

A rare flicker of pride softened his cold gray eyes as he patted Katharina's trembling hand.

"Good girl," Lucien said, his tone warmer than anything I had ever received from him in twenty years.

"The Kowalski line protects its own. You will never lack a place at my hearth."

Then his gaze shifted to me, and the warmth vanished as if a shutter had slammed down.

His eyes were flat stones.

"Arlene," Lucien ordered, his fingers drumming once more against the table.

"Make your mark. Do not waste the magistrate's time with your usual sullen silence."

I looked at Katharina.

Beneath the wet sheen of her lashes, a sliver of triumphant venom gleamed.

She knew how desperate I had been in my past life to earn even a scrap of Lucien's approval.

In that life, I had bowed my head, begged to stay, and spent years breaking my bones in the military academy just to give Dominic the strategic glory that bought his captaincy.

My reward had been an execution in the snow.

I did not lower my head.

I leaned back in the high-backed wooden chair, letting my hands rest loosely in my lap.

"I choose my mother," I said.

The words fell into the quiet room like a heavy stone into still water.

The magistrate paused, his quill hovering above the inkwell.

Lucien's tapping finger froze against the wood.

His eyebrows pulled together in disbelief.

"What did you just say?"

"My hearing is fine, Father, and so is yours," I replied, keeping my voice flat and even.

"Under imperial law, I am of age to select my guardian house upon parental separation. I choose Lady Elena Sanchez. I will take up residence with House Beaumont."

Katharina gasped, her mouth dropping open.

Her carefully orchestrated sorrow vanished, replaced by sheer shock.

This was not in her script.

She had planned to watch me beg, to watch Lucien treat me like a burden, and to isolate me under the Kowalski roof until she could steal Julian Montgomery from my side.

"Sanchez," the magistrate cleared his throat, peering over his papers with renewed interest.

"You are fully aware that selecting Lady Elena forfeits your claim to any Kowalski military pension, inheritance, or dowry assistance?"

"I am entirely aware," I said.

"Record it."

Lucien slammed both fists onto the table, rattling the heavy brass inkpots.

"Have you lost your mind!" he roared, veins bulging along his neck.

"You turn your back on your father for that traitorous woman? She abandoned you to marry into Beaumont wealth! You will be nothing more than a stray dog in their estate!"

I met his furious glare without blinking.

"A stray dog eats better than a pack mule worked to death, Father. The law gives me this right. You have no authority to overrule it."

I turned my back on him entirely, facing the sharply dressed woman sitting at the far end of the table.

She wore a gray tailored coat bearing the silver falcon crest of House Beaumont.

Elena's legal representative had been silent until now, her expression guarded.

"Is the transfer ready, Advocate?" I asked.

A sharp gleam of satisfaction ignited in the advocate's eyes.

She pulled a leather-bound folder toward her and dipped a fresh nib in red wax.

"Everything is prepared, Lady Arlene. We need only your signature to finalize your wardship under House Beaumont."

I took the quill from her hand, scratched my name across the rough vellum, and set the feather down.

Behind me, Katharina stood up so fast her chair scraped against the stone.

She rushed around the table, grabbing my wrist with cold, tight fingers.

"Arlene, stop this!" she hissed under her breath, her face contorted in frantic fury.

"Without the Kowalski name, Julian will never look at you! You will be an outcast! What are you doing?"

I peeled her fingers off my wrist one by one, squeezing her thumb back just far enough to make her wince.

"I am letting you keep the scraps, Katharina," I whispered directly into her ear.

"Take the Kowalskis. Take the barracks. Let us see how warm they keep you when the winter comes."

I stepped past her without looking back.

"Get out!" Lucien screamed behind me, his voice echoing through the corridor.

"You are no daughter of mine! Don't you dare come crawling back when they throw you to the street!"

The heavy oak doors of the chamber clicked shut behind me, cutting his voice in half.

The advocate walked briskly beside me, leading the way toward the grand archway of the Court of Duty.

Outside, the cold mountain air of Vorrath Keep hit my lungs, clean and biting.

The dark basalt spires of the city stretched toward a slate-gray sky.

The advocate handed me a travel pass bound in red cord.

"The carriage is waiting at the south gate, Lady Arlene," she said quietly.

"Your mother has counted every day until this moment."

I took the pass and held it tight.

Footsteps clattered against the cobblestones behind us.

I paused, glancing over my shoulder.

Katharina stood beneath the shadow of the stone portico, her delicate blue skirts clutched in her fists.

Her tear-stained facade was gone, replaced by pure, naked malice.

Her lips moved, mouthing the words through the icy wind.

"You will regret this."

I did not answer.

I turned my back to her and stepped into the open street.

Arlene Sanchez POV:

The wheels rumbled steadily over blackstone paving, the monotonous, lulling drone of the carriage seeping into my bones. Leaning back against the velvet cushion, I closed my eyes-but the memories of my past life surged forth unbidden, impossible to contain.

"Miss, you look unwell. Would you like to rest?"

A young girl named Clara sat across from me, twisting her fingers nervously in her lap. This was our first meeting in this lifetime. She held out a cup of warm water, her gaze clouded with concern.

My chest twinged with sharp pain as I stared at her anxious face. In my past life, it had been her. During the final days of my captivity, she had snuck me scraps of food and water. And in the end, she had been beaten to death by Dominic's men while trying to shield me.

This lifetime, I swore silently. I would not let her meet the same cruel fate.

"I am fine," I murmured, taking the cup from her hand.

The carriage rolled through the gates of Vorrath Keep, and the bustle of the city faded behind us. I lifted the carriage curtain, watching the scenery rush past, and my thoughts drifted back to where all my ruin had begun.

In my former life, I had stayed with the Kowalski family, desperate to earn my father's approval. I studied military strategy relentlessly, even forcing my way into the all-male Human War Academy as a woman.

I devised battle plans for my eldest brother Dominic, helping him win glory after glory in the border skirmishes against the vampires. For my second brother Conrad, I covered up his crime of assault while drunk, spending every coin I had saved to quiet the victim's family.

I thought my sacrifices would win me acceptance from my blood kin. All I received in return was exploitation, more ruthless by the day.

Katharina's face rose in my mind, always wearing that innocent, sweet smile. She had stolen the poems I had written and presented them as her own at the High Court's Verse Recital. She dazzled the assembly and caught the eye of Julian Montgomery, the Regent Heir.

Meanwhile, she framed me. I was accused of poisoning her out of jealousy for her talent. My father Lucien locked me away in confinement.

The deadliest betrayal came from my betrothal to Julian. The Kowalskis had arranged the match to climb into the Regent's favour. Foolishly, I had believed it might be my escape from this household.

But when Kaelen the Bloodrinker, the Vampire King, unleashed full-scale war, the Kowalski family cast me aside without hesitation.

They declared publicly that I, Julian's fiancée, would travel voluntarily to the deadly Frost Border to raise troop morale. The truth was they wanted me to "die honourably", trading my life for political prestige for House Kowalski.

The final memory burned bright: inside a fallen fortress, soaked in my own blood. I had summoned my last strength to beat back one wave of vampires, waiting and hoping for reinforcements.

Instead, my eldest brother Dominic stepped out of the smoke, surrounded by his personal guards. He looked at me as if I were garbage.

"Arlene. Your death will bring the greatest benefit to our house. You ought to feel honoured."

I had gasped out my question, raw and broken: "Why? I am also of Kowalski blood!"

Dominic laughed, a cruel, cold sound. "You? You are only a mongrel carrying that woman's blood. Katharina is Father's beloved daughter, the true treasure of House Kowalski."

Then the shard of dragon's blood in his hand pierced my heart. The agony felt as though my soul was torn apart. I would never forget it.

A violent jolt of the carriage wrenched me out of the nightmare. I gasped for air, cold sweat beading on my forehead.

"Miss, did you have a terrible dream?" Clara's voice shook with alarm.

I shook my head, steadying my ragged breathing. "I was only remembering something terrible."

I glanced out the window. The outline of Beaumont Manor rose in the distance, warm and peaceful beneath the sunlight, a stark contrast to the grim military compound of the Kowalski household.

In my past life, my mother Elena had sent messengers many times to fetch me away. But my father and brothers blocked every attempt. They filled my head with lies, telling me she had abandoned me, stoking resentment in my heart until I turned away from her.

I only learned the truth from an old servant, moments before I died. Mother had never given up on me. She had married into House Beaumont and plotted patiently, gathering power little by little, all so she could one day pull me free from the Kowalski's grasp.

But all her waiting ended when news of my death reached her.

I closed my eyes and felt my heart beating strong and alive in my chest. This life, I would not miss my chance.

House Kowalski. Dominic. Conrad. Katharina. Lucien. Every debt you owe me will be repaid, tenfold.

And Mother. This time, I will protect you.

The carriage slowed to a halt. Clara's voice sounded beside me. "Miss, we have arrived."

I opened my eyes. All traces of vulnerability and grief vanished. Nothing remained but icy calm and unshakable resolve. I smoothed the fabric of my gown, ready for my new life - and my first battle.

Katharina Kowalski POV:

I sat before my vanity mirror while my maid Doris brushed carefully through my long golden hair. The girl moved with timid caution, afraid of marring a single strand. In the polished glass, my reflection stared back-fair-skinned, soft-featured, eyes curved into perpetual gentle innocence. That helpless, pitiful delicacy was my most flawless, most deadly weapon.

I twirled a string of pearls between my fingers, a fresh reward from Father, granted simply because I had "obediently" chosen to stay by his side instead of fleeing like Arlene. A cold, mocking smile tugged at my heart. Men were truly such foolish creatures. A few well-timed tears and a show of meek piety were enough to cloud their judgment entirely.

"Miss," Doris lowered her voice, a faint, gloating edge creeping into her tone, "word has come from Beaumont Manor."

I held my gaze steady on her reflection in the mirror. "Speak."

Doris leaned in, barely containing her excitement. "It seems the third young master of House Beaumont, Weston, has never cared much for that Arlene. He's instructed the old housekeeper, Mrs. Perkins, to prepare a grand 'surprise' for her arrival."

A subtle, triumphant smile curved my lips. Weston Beaumont-a spoiled, empty-headed dandy. Even in my past life, he had never been capable of anything but petty, tasteless tricks. Still, he was perfectly useful for breaking Arlene down.

Memories flickered through my mind. The moment Arlene first stepped foot in Beaumont Manor all those years ago. That ridiculous brazier ritual had left her flustered and humiliated, her ankle burned raw. She had been bedridden for days, the laughingstock of the entire estate.

Now she dared to defy Father and run straight into the Beaumonts' territory, foolishly chasing a new fate. She was walking straight into her own ruin. I would see just how long her weak, powerless mother could shield her, now that she no longer bore the protection of House Kowalski's name.

I murmured softly, feigning idle curiosity, "What sort of surprise has he prepared?"

Doris drew closer still, her tone dripping with schadenfreude. "A so-called 'purification ritual.' All new arrivals must step over a blazing brazier to burn away outside 'bad luck.' Just imagine-she's nothing but a crude military brat from the fortress. She's never seen such formal, intimidating customs in her life. She'll likely freeze up entirely, if not soil herself in fright."

I laughed lightly, the sound soft and sweet to any outsider's ear, cold and satisfied within my chest. Perfect. Exactly as I remembered. Rebirth was utterly divine. Every piece of the game lay firmly within my grasp.

"And Father and my brothers?" I shifted the topic casually.

"The General is still furious over Miss Arlene's defiance," Doris answered promptly. "Young Masters Dominic and Conrad both say to treat her as if she never existed. Whatever becomes of her out there, alive or dead, has nothing to do with House Kowalski any longer."

Precisely as I needed. I needed the entire world to believe Arlene had been utterly cast aside by her family. Only then could I move against her without restraint, free of consequence.

I plucked a gold coin from my jewelry box and tossed it to her. "Keep a close watch. Report every scrap of news regarding her at Beaumont Manor immediately."

Doris caught the coin, face lighting up with delight. She bowed repeatedly in thanks before retreating quietly from the room.

Silence settled over the chamber. I stared at my unblemished reflection, and the gentle mask on my face finally slipped, revealing the venomous malice hidden beneath. Arlene, my foolish, delusional sister. Did you truly believe abandoning the Kowalskis and clinging to your mother's side would rewrite your fate?

Everything you once had-the betrothal to Julian, the family resources, the glory and status-was meant to be mine. You stole every last bit of it from me in our past life.

This time, I will never give you a single chance to rise again. I will crush you beneath my feet, pin you down so thoroughly you can never break free. You will watch helplessly as I climb step by step to the pinnacle, as I marry the most noble, powerful man in the entire empire.

The suffering you face now is only the beginning.

I rose to my feet and walked to the window, gazing toward the distant grounds of Beaumont Manor. Though it was far beyond my sight, I could picture the scene vividly in my mind. Right this moment, she must be standing before that blazing brazier, frozen and helpless, a lamb waiting to be humbled and slaughtered.

-

Arlene Sanchez POV:

I had barely stepped off the carriage and steadied my feet when a woman in her fifties approached me. Slightly plump in stature, with a sharp, unkind face, she wore a crisp, immaculately pressed housekeeper's uniform. She introduced herself as Mrs. Perkins.

Her eyes swept over me from head to toe, brimming with unmasked contempt. "You must be Arlene Sanchez," she drawled, as if speaking my name were a condescending chore.

I met her gaze evenly. "I am."

Several young maids stood clustered behind her, whispering and snickering under their breath. Their eyes wandered over me openly, examining me as though I were some odd, inferior curiosity put on display.

Mrs. Perkins tilted aside with a cold, hollow smile, revealing two male servants standing behind her, holding a large brass brazier. Charcoal blazed fiercely inside, rolling waves of dry heat toward me, warming the air between us.

"By the rules of House Beaumont," she announced haughtily, "all new arrivals must cross this purification brazier to cleanse any ill fortune clinging to them before they may enter the manor gates."

Clara paled visibly behind me and instinctively stepped forward, trying to shield me from the confrontation.

I understood instantly. This was no ancient Beaumont tradition. It was nothing more than a humiliating power play, a petty welcoming trick devised by that spoiled brat Weston Beaumont. In my past life, I had hesitated here, flustered and nervous. A stray spark had singed my gown, and in my panic I had twisted my ankle-turning me into the entire estate's laughingstock for days.

They expected to break me with the same trick twice?

I stared calmly at Mrs. Perkins' self-satisfied, obedient face, every line of it screaming that she relished carrying out her young master's petty humiliation. Already, I knew exactly how I would turn this farce back on them.