The invitations had been sent.
The banners raised.
The halls perfumed.
The tables set with silver and spiced wine from the eastern isles.
Tonight was meant to be a celebration.
Of Kael's victory.
Of House Vaelthorn's strength.
But beneath the laughter, beneath the golden chandeliers and flowing silks—death moved.
---
The Guests Assemble
Every noble worth naming had arrived.
Duke Aldric Vaelthorn sat at the head table, stoic and unreadable. Lady Merien sat beside him, a smile carved onto porcelain lips. The council lords took their seats, whispering behind jeweled goblets.
Kael entered last.
His armor was black velvet, high-collared and lined with muted crimson. His family sigil shone faintly on his chest. A thin ceremonial sword—nonlethal—was belted to his waist.
But no one mistook him for anything less than a general.
Lyra walked beside him in formal Vaelthorn silver, her presence drawing just as many glances. Rin followed in a blue dress she hated but tolerated.
Even Serentha wore a coat.
The room quieted.
Kael's entrance had that effect now.
---
Toasts and Tension
Lord Trevane raised a glass.
"To the Thornborn, who bled for us."
The room echoed the toast—but faintly.
Kael nodded without smiling.
As food was served—roast boar, wild pheasant, honeyed grapes—conversation grew.
Lyra leaned in toward Kael. "Half of them hate you."
"The other half fear me."
"They all drink your wine."
Kael smirked. "And tonight, I watch who doesn't."
---
The Moment Before
Just before dessert, the performers began—dancers in petal-colored silks and masked musicians playing a slow, haunting tune.
Kael's eyes scanned the room methodically.
One guard at the eastern archway.
One by the kitchens.
Rin was safe beside Serentha.
Lyra watched the performers—but her hand drifted toward her hidden blade under the table.
Kael sipped his wine.
Then paused.
The air shifted.
Ever so slightly.
> A drop too quiet.
> A smile too fast.
> A shadow too still.
---
The Strike
It happened in less than three seconds.
A server, tray in hand, turned toward Kael—
—and lunged.
But not with a knife.
With a chainblade, unsprung from his sleeve, its tip glowing with anti-magic sigils.
Aimed directly at Kael's heart.
Kael's chair exploded backward as he kicked off it, twisting—
The blade grazed his shoulder—
Blood.
Lyra was already moving.
The would-be assassin snarled something in a forgotten tongue and hurled a second blade—
Right at Rin.
Serentha caught it mid-air.
Split it in two.
Screams filled the banquet hall.
Nobles panicked. Guards drew weapons.
But Kael rose.
Not wounded.
Furious.
---
Public Execution
The assassin was disarmed in seconds—pinned by three of Kael's Crimson Bloom.
He spat on the ground, smiling through blood.
"You are not a man," he hissed. "You are soil. And the bloom will choke you."
Kael stepped forward.
"No masks. No riddles. Give me a name."
The assassin laughed.
"Your mother's side."
Silence hit like stone.
Kael turned his head.
Lady Merien didn't move. Her wine glass remained in hand.
"Interesting," Kael said quietly.
He looked at the guards.
"No prison. No council hearing."
He drew his blade.
The assassin didn't beg.
He just whispered, "Too late."
And Kael slit his throat.
---
The Aftermath – Kael Speaks
The room remained frozen.
Kael stood before all of them—blood on his gloves, wine spattered across his table.
He looked at every noble in turn.
At Lord Trevane, who trembled behind his chair.
At Lady Merien, who had not blinked once.
At his father.
And then he spoke.
"Tonight was supposed to be a celebration."
He walked to the center.
"But it has become something more."
His voice echoed.
"Tonight, I declare before the court and the ancestors: House Vaelthorn will no longer be silent."
"No more shadows."
"No more traitors dressed in silk."
"No more waiting."
The nobles said nothing.
Kael raised his bloodied blade.
"Let it be known that the heir of Vaelthorn bleeds not for power, nor for titles. But for truth."
"And if the Vault beneath this house breaks, it will break under my will. Not yours."
---
Later That Night – A Quiet Balcony
The party had ended.
The guests had left.
Only the blood had stayed.
Kael stood alone on the western balcony.
Lyra joined him.
"Did you know?"
"No. But I expected it."
She glanced toward the Vault tower.
"Four chains broken."
He nodded.
"More to come."
Lyra touched his hand.
"You said you bled for truth. Was that real?"
Kael looked at her.
"Everything else is lies."
She held his hand longer than usual.
And said nothing.
---
Final Scene – In the Vault
The sealed figure stirred again.
But this time, he laughed.
> "My heir learns."
> "Let the thorns rise."
> "Let the next bloom begin."
---
End of Chapter 70