In the guest chambers of the imperial castle, where the walls stretched so high they seemed to challenge the sky itself, silence ruled with an almost religious weight. Tall, arched windows let the morning light crawl over marbled floors, and massive paintings of long-dead emperors loomed from above, judging every breath of diplomacy that dared be spoken in their presence. The golden trims on the pillars, the scarlet banners bearing the empire's sigil. Everything whispered a single truth:
Power lived here. And it had ears.
Seated in this opulent stillness were two men whose presence could silence even louder halls.
One was Duke Everard Gyrfald, back straight as steel, his gaze fixed on the stack of documents between them. The other, leaning slightly over the table, was Sebastian, the phantom shadow of the Falcon Duchy, his voice low and crisp as he discussed the trade routes and territorial implications of the proposed expansion to Glimmerforge.
"...And if we move the smelt lines closer to the aquifer shelf," Sebastian said, tapping a map spread across the obsidian table, "we'll cut mana-fueled transport costs by a third. The Glimmerforge miners are already complaining about overwork. Bringing in outer-ring workers would pacify the union and—"
A knock echoed sharply.
Sebastian halted. Everard didn't move.
Another knock.
Sebastian walked to the door, his footsteps noiseless as always. When he opened it, a man stood stiff and straight, almost military in posture. Cloaked in the dull grey of an imperial informant, he bowed and silently held out a letter sealed with the crimson crest of a falcon.
"A letter?" Sebastian asked, raising an eyebrow.
"From Leon Duchy," the informant replied in a clipped tone. "Sent by Commander Vernin of the Falcon Guard."
Sebastian accepted the letter with a faint smirk. "Excellent. I'll inform the Duke."
The man bowed again. As the door closed behind him, he blinked, once, hard, before muttering under his breath.
"Did… did he just smile?"
Back inside, Sebastian let the smirk widen just a touch. "My lord. Letter from the commander we sent with young Lord Hugo."
Everard looked up, pushing aside the trade papers. "What does it say?"
Sebastian broke the seal and unfolded the parchment. His eyes scanned the first lines, mouth twitching at the corners. But as he reached the end, his gaze sharpened.
"They've arrived safely," he began. "And... they've neutralized an infiltrator."
Everard nodded slightly. "Well.. an attack is expected. And Commander and Clara were sent for that purpose." He said calmly.
Sebastian kept reading.
"And that infiltrator was... Varkis. Captain of Ashen's Black Blades."
Everard's chair creaked slightly.
"…There's no way," he said at last. "Clara is formidable, but not that formidable. Commander Vernin is gifted, but no powerhouse. At best, they could've managed an escape. But kill Varkis?"
Sebastian held the parchment higher. "It's written here, plain as light, my lord."
Everard leaned back, rubbing his jaw. "Wait. Didn't you say we spotted Ashen movement near Ravenholt last month?"
Sebastian froze.
Crimson flared behind Everard's gaze. "Sebastian…"
"My lord," Sebastian said quickly, "I… I promised him a favor. I didn't think young Lord Hugo would—"
"You made a deal?" Everard stepped forward, his tone cutting. "That could kill my son"
Sebastian bowed his head. "No, my lord.... It's what I came to speak with you about."
Everard's voice dropped. "Then speak."
Sebastian inhaled slowly. "I believe… young Lord Hugo knows I'm not human."
Silence.
Everard's eyes narrowed. "Explain."
"There are only two ways to see through my Phantom Cloak," Sebastian said. "One is to possess a higher perception than mine, which Lord Hugo does not. The other is to detect the mana nature difference between humans and demons."
Everard frowned. "You're saying… he can distinguish mana types?"
Sebastian nodded grimly. "Or worse. He can see more than just that. The moment he became aware of me, he knew."
Everard muttered, almost to himself. "That shouldn't be possible. His Inspect is Grade E. A lesser version of Serena's Appraisal. If even she can't see your origin, Hugo definitely shouldn't."
Sebastian gave him a long look.
"My lord… you forget. When I was a child...three thousand years ago..some of my kin had skills the god's artifacts themselves couldn't catalog. Skills blessed by the eight Demon Lords. They vanished after the Cleansing, but… not all of them were destroyed."
"You're saying… Hugo might have one?"
"I'm saying," Sebastian said carefully, "his skill might not be what we think it is."
Everard fell silent again, gaze distant.
"But even so," he finally said, "that doesn't explain how they killed Varkis. Stronger skills need higher cultivation for activation. Even if Hugo's Inspect is more powerful, it shouldn't help in battle. Clara is one option—but not enough."
"My lord," Sebastian said softly, "you haven't seen her recently. Not since the last report. When I met her... I sensed a shift. She's broken through."
Everard raised an eyebrow. "Clara? Broke through?..."
"She was stuck, Needed a natural catalyzer to progress. I was even planning to send her to Dawnveil Cathedral. That artifact there, Dawn's Embrace, would've let her advance in a controlled setting."
He narrowed his eyes. "No artifact. No innate skill. And she still broke through?"
"She said," Sebastian replied, "that it was because of... co-cultivation. A cultivation theory of elves."
.........
............
"Two thousand six hundred years...huh? that long of a slumber must've made you du—"
"No, it didn't."
.
The ministers began their presentation with practiced precision, their voices steady, their visuals methodically aligned with what we had prepared during court rehearsals. I had to admit, the presentation was well-structured. But as the contents unfolded, one truth became increasingly clear.
The structure was impressive.
The content was... lacking.
Sir Eldrin Vothsar observed with his usual detachment, his expression unreadable. Not even the tiniest crease of his brow betrayed his thoughts. I stole a glance at Lord Hugo, expecting perhaps a smirk or some quiet jest beneath his breath...but no.
There was no levity this time.
The relaxed air he typically carried had vanished, and its absence left a chill in the room. The change did not go unnoticed. It wasn't just me; even my father began to shift in his seat.
For the first time since we entered, I felt my nerves start to betray me. My legs quivered slightly beneath my robes.
I had left behind the documents Lord Hugo prepared, confident that I had memorized everything from a week's worth of study. But now, the very same confidence mocked me. Perhaps I should've brought them after all.
Clara wasn't here to offer her usual quiet jokes or throw a playful wink to break the tension either.
The silence was not silence...it was a weight.
If this failed... if this final chance carved out through Falcon fell apart here, then the entire foundation of my father's ambitions, and the future he tied to his brother's...would collapse.
And all of it depends on me.
I hadn't felt the pressure so far, largely because Lord Hugo and Clara had borne it like it was just another day in the garden. They had made it look light, made me believe it was manageable. But here, in this hall with thick air and heavier stakes, I understood it was not.
I had no room for mistakes. No time for fogged thoughts.
At last, the presentation drew to a close. My father rose with an air of confidence and turned to Sir Eldrin.
"Sir Eldrin Vothsar," he said with practiced dignity, "we pledge that we will provide our dear neighbours with the finest quality goods at accessible prices. With the Falcon's endorsement and your grace, we aim to ensure prosperity for both sides—one that brings value not just in gold, but in goodwill."
It was phrased well. He had rehearsed that line. We all had.
Sir Eldrin offered a thin smile and stood.
"The representation was thorough. There were no discrepancies in what was discussed. A fruitful presentation, no doubt."
A pause. A breath.
"However," he continued, "we've received similar proposals from several provinces in Valthryon. And many of those carry pricing structures that are not only slightly more favorable, but more stable. What you've offered rests on the edge of sustainability. Any minor disruption in your merchant lines could cause significant price instability. Our merchant guild prioritizes consistency above all."
My father responded quickly, "We have plans underway across the estates to raise productivity. With Falcon's support, we intend to create insulation for our trade chains. It may appear fragile now, but with time—"
Sir Eldrin cut him off with a politely sharp smirk. "And yet none of those plans are documented in your proposal. There is neither a projected growth metric nor a listed breakdown of goods that would benefit from this increased productivity. Viscount Orion, undocumented intentions may pass in family discussions, but they are of no weight in matters of diplomacy."
My heart sank as I watched my father falter. Every point he thought would secure his place in this negotiation was now turned against him.
Sir Eldrin's next words sealed it.
"Other regions have submitted documents with better pricing and clearer contract clauses. Some of them claim funding from your empire's economic capital, Griffinvale, just as you claim support from the Falcon Duchy. If I were to include yours, I'd be merely diluting our merchant guild's time."
My father sat back, stunned. I could almost hear the echo of everything he had built start to crack.
Sir Eldrin glanced at the clockwork on the wall and added, "If our discussions are complete, I recommend you rest in the quarters prepared for you before departure. I have another appointment scheduled."
The doors opened, and sunlight spilled into the hall with uninvited brightness. Oddly, it soothed me.
The servants approached swiftly, eager to usher us out. An act that can be considered disrespectful.
No one objected. What would be the point?
But Lord Hugo did not rise.
Neither did I.
Nor did Clara appear from behind the veiled side door to join the others. She remained where she was. Silent, poised. Ready.
My father hesitated, perhaps thinking Lord Hugo hadn't understood the proceedings were over. He stepped toward him.
Before he could speak, Sir Eldrin turned.
"I see. So the representatives from Falcon are... You two," he said, glancing between us. "I would have dismissed this to save us all time. But the signature of the Duke is not something I can ignore. I only hope... your proposal is worth the value of that signature."
Clara moved, her steps composed and quiet. She passed my father without a glance and placed a leather-bound file in front of me.
My father blinked. "What...?"
Sir Eldrin turned to him.
"Viscount Orion, the servants await. I trust you will be kind to them."
A diplomatic dismissal. My father didn't even realize it. I did.
Because I knew.
This meeting...this time slot...wasn't originally meant for us, Leons. It was for something that needed Duke Everard's direct seal. Sir Eldrin knew it. That's the only reason he was still here, the only reason we were still seated.
This was Lord Hugo's time. A time secured for his own negotiation. Something that doesn't have anything to do with our house.
And he gave a part of it to me.
My father finally stepped out, and the doors were drawn shut behind him.
Sir Eldrin busied himself with the attendants, asking for additional arrangements.
Clara gave me one last smile before returning to her place. The hall was laced with cooling enchantments, and yet my skin prickled with sweat.
My breath was uneven.
I had never done this before. Not really. At home, perhaps. But not like this.
Then, a tap on my back. "huh.."
I gasped.
Lord Hugo sat beside me, one leg crossed over the other, his expression now... familiar.
That easy, confident grin had returned.
"You got this," he said gently. "Don't worry about saying something wrong. Don't worry about saying too little. Just speak. Everything you do will add to your experience, you'll get better every time from now on."
He paused, then added with an almost playful glint in his eye, "Besides, you'll be doing many more of these with me in the future."
And finally—
"About the mistakes you might or might not make, don't worry. I'll take care of it."
There was no arrogance in his voice. Not to me.
What he offered wasn't assurance....it was a lifeline.
He carried no fear, so I didn't need to either. If everything crumbled, he would still be here. If things went wrong, he would be there to take the fall. He had given me this chance. Not for leverage, not for show.
Because he believed I could do it.
And now, so did I.
My only task... is to do my best.
Not to fear what might come. Not to shiver in the unknown. The results, whatever they may be, come later.
For now, I speak.
For now, I stand.
Every act from now on, will make a difference. I should make most out of this opportunity.