The clinking of silver against expensive porcelain was the only sound filling the private dining room in the east wing of Castle Vayne.
Light from sandalwood-scented aromatherapy candles danced across the walls, casting long shadows that looked like lurking monsters.
The atmosphere was a stark contrast to the grimy darkness of the Lower District’s well just hours prior.
On one side of the table, Azura Vayne sat with her back as straight as a ruler born of royal blood.
Her soiled black cloak had been replaced by a deep blue silk gown that radiated cold authority.
Across from her sat a man whose appearance was more suited to a bankrupt mercenary than a Marchioness’s guest of honor.
Alaric Varentis was finishing his second helping of Thick Beef Stew with an enthusiasm that practically insulted noble etiquette.
He held a beef rib with his bare hands, slurping the broth loud enough to be heard, seemingly utterly indifferent to the fact that he was sitting before the most dangerous woman in the North.
[System: Biometric Analysis Alert!]
[“Boss, I don’t know whether to be impressed or terrified.
This man’s heart rate is stable at 60 bpm.
He just saved your life and now he’s eating for free in the enemy’s lair.
Either his nerves are completely fried or he treats this place like his favorite roadside diner.
Oh, and FYI, the stew’s cholesterol levels are safe, but this man’s danger level is still in the deep red zone.”]
Azura merely sipped her bitter tea, ignoring the system’s chatter in her head.
Her sea-blue eyes remained locked on Alaric’s movements.
Specifically, on a small seal engraved on the hilt of the short sword Alaric had casually tossed onto the table—a carving of a Black Eagle clutching an olive branch.
”This stew is magnificent, Lady Marchioness,” Alaric said, wiping his mouth with a linen napkin—which, for some reason, looked like a common rag in his hands.
“Much better than the broth I got at the gate this afternoon.
It seems having a private chef is an irreplaceable luxury.”
”You’ve received your reward, Master Wanderer,” Azura’s voice was flat, as cold as cracking ice.
“Now tell me, what makes a man like you waste his time dealing with the Church’s little rats in my territory?”
Alaric leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling in a provocatively relaxed pose.
“I was just passing through.
But seeing the way you manage this territory…
honestly, it’s like watching someone try to put out a fire with oil.
Fascinating, but dangerous.”
Azura narrowed her eyes.
“Meaning?”
”People are like water, My Lady,” Alaric twirled his spoon in the air.
“If you dam them up too tightly, they will explode and destroy the levee.
If you let them flow without direction, they become a flood that drowns you.
You…
you’re too busy damming them up.
Do you think fear is an eternal dam?
It isn’t.
Fear has a breaking point.”
Before Azura could retort, the dining room door was slammed open.
Bam!
Caspian Vayne marched in with heavy footsteps.
His face was flushed with rage, and his hand was already gripped tightly around the hilt of the sword at his waist.
He glared at Alaric as if the man were a plague that needed to be purged from his castle immediately.
”Who is this vagabond, Azura?!” Caspian barked.
He didn’t address Azura as his stepmother or Marchioness, revealing how shaky his emotional control was.
“Why is a stranger sitting at the Vayne family’s private dining table?
Guards!
Why isn’t he in chains?!”
Alaric didn’t even turn around.
He simply picked up another rib and bit into it casually. New chapters come out on g.com first.
“Whoa, the little lion is awake.
Sleep well, kid?”
”You…!” Caspian drew his sword.
The candlelight glinted off the sharp metal surface.
“How dare you insult this house!
Get out, or I’ll separate your head from your body right now!”
”Caspian, put your sword away,” Azura commanded, her voice soft but carrying an authority that made Caspian’s shoulders tremble.
”But Azura!
He—”
”I said, put it away,” Azura looked at Caspian with a gaze that could freeze blood.
“He is the guest who saved my life tonight.
Do you wish to repay a life-debt with a blade?”
Caspian ashed his teeth, but the respect—and fear—he had newly built for Azura forced him to restrain himself.
However, his wounded ego wouldn’t let it go.
With a swift motion he had learned from his knightly training, Caspian thrust the tip of his sword within inches of Alaric’s throat.
”Saved or not, he is still a suspicious stranger,” Caspian hissed.
Alaric let out a long sigh, as if he had just been disturbed by a fly during a pleasant dream.
Without shifting his position, his hand moved with lightning speed—faster than Caspian’s naked eye could follow.
Clink!
With a single flick of his broth-stained silver spoon, Alaric struck a nerve point on Caspian’s wrist.
Caspian’s sword vibrated violently before slipping from his grip, clattering onto the marble floor with a pitiful ring.
Before Caspian could react, Alaric was already standing before him, releasing an aura of pressure so heavy that Caspian felt his lungs constrict.
”Free advice for you, Little Lion,” Alaric whispered, his previously friendly face now transformed into something profoundly predatory.
“Your armor is too shiny for a knight who doesn’t even know how to hold a sword when he’s angry.
On a real battlefield, you’d be dead three times over before you even had a chance to scream.”
Caspian froze.
Cold sweat trickled down his temple.
This wasn’t just physical strength; it was absolute dominance possessed only by those who had bathed in a sea of blood.
”That is enough, ‘Master Wanderer’,” Azura interjected.
“Sit down.
And Caspian, pick up your sword and sit beside Aurelia, who has been watching you be humiliated from the corner of the room.”
Aurelia, who had been sitting in the shadows of the corner with her law book from the start, let out a short sigh.
“I told you not to be reckless, Brother.
That man is not your match.”
Alaric chuckled, his aura vanishing in an instant as he returned to being the ridiculous, hungry man.
He sat back down and met Azura’s gaze with a challenging look.
”So, My Lady…
after that family drama, are you still willing to listen to advice from a ‘wanderer’ like me?”
Azura leaned forward, placing both hands on the table.
“Your advice regarding the people may have some merit.
But something else has caught my attention.
For instance…
the fact that a Duke from the South is willing to dress like a hobo just to taste stew in a northern territory under embargo.”
The room suddenly fell deathly silent.
Caspian and Aurelia stared at Alaric in disbelief.
Alaric paused for a moment, then a boisterous laugh erupted from his mouth.
“Hahaha!
Damn.
I tried to hide that seal, but your eyes are indeed as dangerous as the rumors say.
”Since you used a wooden plate to parry a poisoned bolt,” Azura replied flatly.
“There is only one family in this kingdom that bears the Black Eagle crest and has such a terrible sense of humor.
Duke Alaric Varentis…
or should I call you ‘Master Stew Connoisseur’?”
Alaric raised his hands in surrender.
“Okay, okay.
You win.
But seriously, My Lady, I’m not here for formal politics.
I was just bored.
But since you know who I am, I’ll give you one serious warning as a fellow ‘Fang of the Kingdom’.”
Alaric’s expression turned solemn, and this time, there was no hint of a joke.
”You might feel like you’ve won against Malachi tonight.
But remember, there are three Fangs of the Kingdom.
And the third…
that Exelion Magnovar…
he’s already getting bored in his Magic Tower.
He’s narcissistic, a perfectionist, and he hates it when news breaks that is bigger than his own handsome face.
Word of the Marchioness breaking the Church’s dominance has already reached his ears.”
Azura remained calm, though her brain began mapping out this new threat.
“Exelion Magnovar?
What business does he have with me?”
”His business is boredom,” Alaric answered.
“That man loves ‘collecting’ unique things.
And right now, you are the most unique thing in the entire kingdom.
He might not come as an enemy, but as a very troublesome ‘appraiser’.
And believe me, dealing with that Narcissistic Peacock takes much more energy than facing a hundred Church inquisitors.”
Alaric stood up, smoothing his ragged clothes.
“I’ll assist your logistics covertly.
Not because I care about you, but because I want to see how far you can mess up the Church’s plans.
It’s very expensive entertainment.”
Alaric walked toward the large open window, gazing at the silver moon outside.
”Remember my advice, Azura.
The people are water.
And soon, Malachi will try to turn that water into fire by sending their ‘Saintess’.
If you aren’t careful, that water will evaporate and burn your own castle down.”
Without waiting for an answer, Alaric leaped out of the window with an agility impossible for a man of his build, vanishing into the cold North night.
Azura stood on the balcony, staring into the darkness where Alaric had disappeared.
Her heart rate gradually returned to normal, but the man’s warning echoed in her head.
[System: Sassy Mode Update]
[“Status: Duke Alaric Varentis is officially your ‘Logistics Sugar Daddy,’ Boss.
But seriously, Exelion Magnovar’s threat score just unlocked in my database.
His vibe is like an influencer thirsty for validation but armed with nuclear power.
Want me to order some sunglasses for when we have to deal with his narcissistic glare later?”]
”Quiet,” Azura thought.
Her eyes glared sharply toward the Cathedral in the distance.
“Water, fire, or narcissism…
whoever comes, they must learn one thing: Vayne is no longer a place for games.”
Inside the room, Caspian still stared at his sword lying on the floor, realizing that the journey to becoming a true knight was still very far off.
Meanwhile, Aurelia began writing the name ‘Exelion Magnovar’ in her law book, realizing that a much larger political storm had just begun.