The next morning dawned clear, sunlight streaming through the grand arched windows of Marquis Ventor’s dining hall. The room, with its polished mahogany furniture and understated yet elegant decor, spoke of quiet wealth. The air carried the faint aroma of freshly baked bread, honey, and roasted herbs—a welcoming scent that belied the undercurrent of tension between the guests.
I arrived to find Valeria already seated, her posture as straight as ever, a paragon of Olarion discipline. Across from her, Marquis Ventor sat with the effortless poise of a man accustomed to power, his tailored coat immaculate as always. And beside him was his wife, Nadoka. She was a vision of grace, her serene expression giving little away, though her sharp eyes missed nothing. Enjoy new stories from empire
“Ah, Lucavion,” the Marquis greeted as I stepped in, his tone warm yet measured. “I was beginning to think you might oversleep.”
I offered a lazy smile as I approached the table, my movements deliberately unhurried. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Marquis. Your hospitality deserves punctuality, at the very least.”
Valeria glanced up at me, her eyes narrowing slightly, though she said nothing. Her expression betrayed no trace of yesterday’s mortification, but I caught the faint tightening of her jaw—she was still stewing over something, though whether it was me or her own overthinking, I couldn’t quite tell.
“Please, sit,” Nadoka said, her voice soft but commanding as she gestured to the open seat beside Valeria. “Breakfast is served best while warm.”
I inclined my head respectfully. “Of course, Lady Nadoka. And may I say, your hospitality extends far beyond just your medical expertise. The table is a work of art.”
Well….
I just made a mistake with the woman….
But mistakes are meant to be overlooked, aren’t they?
Everyone does that sometimes, no need to be awkward.
But certainly, she is really a fine beauty.
‘How envious. When will I get such a fine wife?’
One can’t help it. Sometimes it is like this after all.
Her lips curved into a faint smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Flattery, is it? I suppose you’re feeling well enough to indulge in such things.”
I chuckled, taking my seat. “Only because of your remarkable care, my lady.”
The tension in Valeria’s posture grew almost imperceptibly, but she kept her focus on the plate before her, delicately slicing a piece of fruit. The Marquis watched the exchange with mild amusement before speaking.
“I trust you both rested well?” he asked, his gaze sweeping between us.
“Perfectly, Marquis,” Valeria replied, her tone polite and measured. “Thank you for the accommodations.”
“And you, Lucavion?” he prompted, turning his attention to me.
I shrugged lightly, reaching for a piece of bread. “I can’t complain. Your staff even managed to find time to clean the blood out of my coat. Truly exceptional service.”
The Marquis chuckled softly, though I noticed Nadoka’s eyes narrowing ever so slightly at my words. “I’m glad you approve,” Ventor said, leaning back slightly. “Though I must say, your performance in the arena was far more… dramatic than expected. Few competitors collapse and still manage to walk away with the crowd chanting their name.”
I smiled, tearing a piece of bread and spreading a bit of honey on it. “What can I say? I like to leave an impression.”
“And impressions you have left,” Nadoka said, her tone as calm as ever, though there was a sharpness beneath it. “Particularly with the Cloud Heavens Sect.”
The air seemed to cool slightly at her words, and I felt Valeria’s gaze flick toward me briefly before she returned her focus to her plate.
“Ah, yes,” I said, my tone light as I set the bread down. “The Sect. They’ve certainly made themselves known, haven’t they?”
The Marquis’ gaze sharpened, his relaxed demeanor tightening as he leaned forward slightly, his steepled fingers resting against his chin. The glimmer of amusement in his eyes dimmed, replaced by something far more calculating. “They’ve certainly made themselves known,” he repeated, his voice measured, though his tone carried a razor’s edge. “Tell me, Lucavion, what compelled you to make such… bold claims about the Cloud Heavens Sect?”
I met his gaze, my smile unwavering, though I noted Valeria stiffen beside me, her attention now fully focused on the exchange. “Bold, perhaps,” I replied casually, reaching for another piece of bread. “But not unfounded. Surely a man of your insight, Marquis, must have also noticed the basis of my claims.”
Nadoka’s eyes narrowed subtly, her delicate hand resting on the stem of her teacup as though preparing to intervene. “Unconventional,” she repeated, her tone soft but laced with steel. “A dangerous word, Lucavion. Especially when wielded in a public forum.”
I chuckled softly, spreading a generous dollop of butter on the bread before responding. “Dangerous words for dangerous actions, my lady. If the Sect insists on veiling themselves in virtue while exploiting the vulnerable, then perhaps it’s time someone held a mirror to their hypocrisy.”
The Marquis leaned back slightly, his expression unreadable, though his gaze bore into mine. “You didn’t merely hold a mirror, Lucavion. You shattered it. The accusations you’ve leveled are not only inflammatory—they’re explosive.”
“Explosive, yes,” I agreed, taking a deliberate bite of the bread before continuing. “But sometimes, explosions are necessary to clear out rot. You’re no stranger to that, are you, Marquis?”
Nadoka’s fork clinked against her plate as she set it down, her hands folding neatly in her lap. “Lucavion,” she said quietly, though her voice carried a note of warning, “you’ve made serious enemies with your actions.”
I placed the bread back on my plate with deliberate calmness, my gaze steady as I met the Marquis’ probing eyes. “Enemies come and go, Marquis,” I began, my tone measured but carrying an unmistakable edge. “The alliances we build, the reputations we protect, the rivalries we foster—all of it pales in comparison to the cost of allowing true atrocities to persist.”
Valeria’s posture stiffened further, her expression unreadable as she continued to observe the exchange.
“Children,” I continued, my voice dropping slightly, the weight of my words pressing against the air, “are innocent. They are untouched by the corruption of this world. They don’t ask to be born into suffering or to become tools in someone else’s pursuit of power. And yet, the Cloud Heavens Sect dares to exploit them, to strip them of their potential, their futures, and, in many cases, their lives.”
The room fell into a tense silence, save for the faint clink of Nadoka setting her teacup down. Her sharp gaze stayed fixed on me, but I pressed on, my tone hardening.
“Regardless of politics, power plays, or consequences, one thing is clear: any hand that dares to harm a child must be crushed and erased from this world. If that earns me enemies, so be it. Their enmity is a price I’m more than willing to pay.”
The Marquis remained silent, his expression unreadable, though the flicker of something—approval, perhaps?—crossed his face before disappearing. Valeria’s eyes narrowed slightly, as though she were weighing my words, but she didn’t speak.
The Marquis studied me carefully, his steepled fingers resting against his lips as he leaned forward. “And what if,” he began, his voice measured but sharp, “your accusations are false? What if all of this is a fabrication, designed to serve your own agenda? A convenient story to stir chaos and elevate yourself?”
I paused, my gaze steady as I met his eyes. The room seemed to hold its breath, even Valeria’s usual composure giving way to a flicker of unease. Then, with deliberate slowness, I let out a soft chuckle and leaned back in my chair.
“If I were making this up,” I said lightly, gesturing with one hand, “then the truth would catch up to me soon enough. Lies, Marquis, have a way of unraveling on their own. A false accusation would backfire spectacularly, wouldn’t you agree? It would be a foolish gamble, one that no one with half a brain would make unless they were absolutely certain of what they were saying.”
Nadoka tilted her head slightly, her sharp eyes narrowing. “And yet, without evidence, certainty is nothing but a sentiment. Words, Lucavion, can be powerful tools, but without proof, they remain just that—words.”
I inclined my head toward her in acknowledgment. “True enough, Lady Nadoka. Evidence is king in the court of reason. But isn’t it also true that, often, we must act without the luxury of perfect clarity? That politics, at its core, thrives on the uncertain?”
The Marquis raised an eyebrow, his expression thoughtful but cautious. I leaned forward slightly, my smirk returning as I placed my hands on the table.
“However,” I continued, my tone soft but laden with weight, “isn’t that the beauty of politics? Often, we don’t know what the future holds. We’re forced to judge with what’s in front of us, to make decisions based on incomplete information. And sometimes, the act of choosing itself shapes the path ahead.”
Valeria’s gaze flicked toward me, her expression unreadable, though I could see the gears turning in her mind. I turned my attention back to the Marquis, my smirk deepening as I delivered the final push.
“And this whole situation,” I said, my voice carrying a quiet intensity, “may work perfectly toward your goals, Lord Ventor.”
I stopped after saying that.
“For instance, this may be the very path for your entrance to central politics.”