My Step-Daughters Are The Villainesses

The Phoenix Heart.

It was an artifact of the Skargardian royal bloodline.

Ulrich had first encountered its name in the novel later, when Camellia started taking her role as the main female lead and love interest in the novel. At that point in the story, she had revealed the amber pendant she always wore beneath her clothes.

She had inherited it from Kaliantha after the Queen’s death.

The necklace had seemed almost unimportant at first. A sentimental relic passed from mother to daughter. A royal heirloom kept close to the heart. The story had mentioned its gold wings, the warm amber stone, and the old Skargardian name carved into the metal at the back of the setting.

Then Camellia had died.

Or, at least, she should have.

The Phoenix Heart had awakened before the blade could finish its work.

Ulrich remembered the scene clearly.

The artifact did not cast an ordinary shield. It did not call upon mana in the manner of a court mage, nor did it form a spell circle or release visible runes. No chant was needed. No command from its wearer. No preparation.

The moment its owner faced a threat capable of taking their life, the pendant answered on its own.

A barrier formed around them.

Not a thin, translucent wall of magical light that could be worn down by sustained attacks. The Phoenix Heart created a closed sphere of ancient arcana around its bearer, a barrier that did not yield to blades, spells, arrows, poison, or force. In the novel, an assassin’s sword had snapped against it. Later, a powerful spell that had torn through stone and killed several men failed to leave even a mark on the barrier surrounding Camellia.

It did not merely protect the wearer from a single strike.

It rejected death itself.

For a short period, the owner became untouchable.

The artifact recognized intent rather than simply reacting to any sudden movement. A servant dropping a tray nearby would not activate it. A clumsy hand brushing too close would not awaken it. But the instant a lethal attack approached, an arrow aimed for the throat, poison meant to stop the heart, a spell cast with the purpose of killing, the Phoenix Heart responded before the wearer could even understand they were in danger.

The protection was absolute while it lasted.

That was why the necklace had become so important to Camellia in the original story. Enemies could corner her. They could catch her unguarded. They could believe they had finally found the perfect moment to kill the princess.

Then the amber at her throat would ignite.

The golden wings would unfold in light.

And every effort to reach her would fail.

Ulrich had assumed the Phoenix Heart belonged to Camellia from the beginning.

That was wrong.

It had belonged to Kaliantha first.

He had actually forgotten about its existence until now

His eyes remained fixed on the pendant as Kaliantha moved through the dance. The amber rested against her chest, rising and falling with the rhythm of her breath. It looked harmless beneath the gold light of the ballroom. Beautiful, expensive, and old.

No one around would understand what it truly was.

No one except Ulrich and Kaliantha herself.

The necklace was not decoration.

It was Kaliantha’s final protection.

The masked musician could have a crossbow hidden in that black case. They could have a spell prepared. They could have poison, a cursed object, or some weapon Ulrich had not yet recognized. It did not matter, provided the attack was meant to kill her.

The Phoenix Heart would react.

It could save Kaliantha’s life.

The knowledge should have eased the tension in Ulrich’s chest.

It did not.

The artifact was powerful, but it was not an excuse to be careless.

Its barrier had limits.

Ulrich remembered that much as well.

The Phoenix Heart did not remain active forever. The protection appeared only when the danger became immediate, and afterward the amber dimmed. In the novel, Camellia could not rely upon it twice in quick succession. The artifact needed time to gather itself again, as though the power sealed inside it had to retreat into the stone before it could awaken a second time.

It could preserve the wearer’s life.

It could not prevent the chaos that followed an attack.

If the masked musician released some kind of explosive spell into the ballroom, the Phoenix Heart might shield Kaliantha while nobles, guards, Albert, Camellia, and servants around her were caught in the blast. If the attacker had allies, they could use the confusion to target the royal children. If their aim was not simply murder, but abduction, panic, or the destruction of the royal family’s authority, then the artifact alone would not solve anything.

The necklace had reached Camellia in the novel through Kaliantha’s death to begin with.

Camellia had inherited the Phoenix Heart after her mother died. That was what the novel had said. It had never explained the Queen’s death in detail. It had only treated the necklace as a private keepsake that Camellia refused to remove, a final connection to the mother she had lost.

Ulrich had not cared enough about that detail when he first read it.

Now he did.

If Kaliantha wore the Phoenix Heart tonight and still died in the future, then the artifact had not been enough to save her.

Or it had not activated.

Or Kaliantha had given it to Camellia before the danger came.

Or the danger had not been aimed at Kaliantha at all.

Ulrich’s thoughts slowed as his eyes remained fixed on the pendant at Kaliantha’s throat.

A question rose at once.

Did the demons know?

If they knew that Kaliantha wore the Phoenix Heart, then the necklace did not guarantee her safety. They would not have sent a single assassin with an ordinary weapon and hoped for fortune. They would have prepared a method to bypass it, overwhelm it, or exploit whatever weakness ancient arcana possessed.

In that case, Kaliantha remained in danger.

Ulrich’s gaze passed briefly over the amber once more.

But the possibility was slim.

In the novel, Kaliantha died later. The Phoenix Heart eventually passed to Camellia, who had worn it for years without fully revealing what it could do. That meant the artifact had not saved Kaliantha forever, but it did not mean it would fail tonight.

Perhaps in the novel, the demons had attempted to kill Kaliantha during Camellia’s coming-of-age celebration, only for the Phoenix Heart to awaken before their weapon could reach her. The barrier would have bought enough time for Commander Marx Lambert and the royal knights to reach the Queen. Once they stood around her, the demons would lose their chance.

The attack would fail.

Kaliantha would survive.

Ulrich almost cursed beneath his breath.

If that was how events were meant to unfold, then he had placed himself in the middle of danger for nothing.

He had spent the evening watching every entrance, studying the guards, following the suspicious musician with his eyes, and forcing himself into a dance with Kaliantha under the attention of the entire court. He had made himself visible. He had made himself memorable.

And he was still in danger.

If the demons noticed his vigilance, if they understood that he had anticipated their move, then they would begin questioning his suspicious moves until now.

The sensible choice would be to end the dance.

He could step back. He could allow Kaliantha to return to the royal dais or to her children. He could let the assassination unfold as it had in the original story and remain outside it. The Phoenix Heart would activate. Marx Lambert would arrive. Kaliantha would live.

Ulrich would keep his distance from the demons’ plans.

But he could not do it.

He could not simply leave Kaliantha exposed because an artifact might save her. He had not seen the weapon hidden inside the black box. He did not know whether the demons understood what the Phoenix Heart could do. He did not know whether the attack was aimed only at Kaliantha, or whether Albert and Camellia would be caught in whatever happened next.

And there was another reason.

The Phoenix Heart was still a secret.

The demons might not know it existed. They might not know that Kaliantha carried an artifact capable of shielding her from death. If Ulrich allowed the attack to proceed and the pendant awakened before the entire ballroom, then the secret would be gone.

The attacker would see it.

Any accomplices hidden among the nobles would see it.

The demons would learn that ordinary methods could not kill Kaliantha. They would return with preparation. They would search for ways to exhaust the artifact, break its protection, separate it from its wearer, or strike while it lay dormant after activation.

The Phoenix Heart was more valuable as an unseen defense than as a miracle revealed before an enemy.

Ulrich reached his conclusion.

He would prevent the assassination.

Not because Kaliantha needed saving from a single attack. Not only because he had already committed himself to protecting her. He would stop it because allowing the Phoenix Heart to reveal itself would make every danger afterward worse.

He would protect Kaliantha without letting the demons learn what protected her.

It was the original plan in the end.

Only now, he carried it out knowing that if his timing failed, the Phoenix Heart would still stand between Kaliantha and death.

The thought eased some of the pressure in his chest.

For a brief moment, he allowed himself a private smile.

Since he was there anyway, he might as well make the best of the current situation.

"Would you stop staring at my chest, Lord Rubenhart?"