The chamber of House Lathias lay under dim mana-lamps that cast cold, flickering shadows across the polished obsidian table. No one spoke at first. The weight of the two reports before them pressed heavier than the stone walls.
Sebastian Lokens — their most elite assassin — had failed to return.
Veinhelm Drakan had severed his engagement without hesitation.
Lord Rennard Lathias exhaled.
"This is troubling," he said, voice stripped of anything but gravity.
Lady Corenia nodded, posture rigid.
"How is that possible? Sebastian never failed once " she murmured.
The eldest advisor frowned deeply, leaning into the table.
"Veinhelm that boy was always a nuisance," he said.
"A lord ruled by impulse, emotion, and embarrassment. He is not a man who can survive Sebastian."
Rennard's eyes tightened, but he did not disagree.
A silence followed — deep, suffocating — until Vellian, the youngest advisor at the table, spoke hesitantly.
"My lord… what if the veinhelm we knew was just a facade?"
He swallowed.
"What if… he has grown stronger?"
The chamber chilled.
Then Corenia let out a slow, exasperated breath.
"Vellian," she said, stern but not unkind, "Sebastian is one of the deadliest blades in the kingdom. To think a mere theory professor could win against him is nothing but foolish."
The elder advisor scoffed quietly, though without amusement.
"A Drakan boy strong enough to stop Sebastian? Do not let fantasy fill the gaps in logic."
Vellian didn't back down.
"But what if the Drakan heir is hiding something? Why is he cutting ties now?"—he motioned toward the engagement report—" What if he no longer needs political support?."
This time, the ridicule sharpened.
Corenia shook her head firmly.
"Are you really talking about that Veinhelm? Be serious, Vellian."
The elder advisor added:
"The boy is barely capable of controlling his temper."
The word hung in the air like a forbidden note.
Rennard's gaze shifted toward Vellian.
"You think he is preparing for something? "
Vellian's voice was small, but steady.
"My lord, If by any chance he survived Sebastian, if he gained… something… then this may be the beginning of a larger problem..."
The others dismissed the idea immediately.
"He spent his youth chasing skirts like an imbecile."
Their tones were stern, not mocking — the controlled ridicule of senior politicians dismissing a naïve theory.
But Rennard did not join them.
The council quieted.
Rennard rested a hand on the engagement letter.
"My lord… Surely you do not believe Drakan's heir is capable of confronting Sebastian."
Rennard did not answer immediately.
His silence made the others stiffen.
Finally, he said:
"I do not believe Vellian's theory. Tha kid got lucky indeed. "
A collective breath of relief followed.
"But"—he raised a finger—"I also cannot ignore this."
A heavier silence fell.
"We will not assume war," Rennard continued, "but we will prepare for instability."
Vellian bowed his head, both relieved and uneasy.
Corenia spoke once more, her tone icy:
"Then our stance?"
Rennard replied:
His eyes darkened.
" We use rumors against him. Don't spare a coin. Let all ears hear the news of his incompetence. "
The lamps flickered violently, as if reacting to the unspoken threat hanging in the chamber.
*
*
*
In the humble house of Valeor,
The dissolution letter lay open on the cedar table, its clipped wording gleaming in the late-afternoon light.
Lord Adrast Valeor, Lyrienne's father, stood beside it with his usual noble posture, hands folded neatly behind his back. His face was smooth, unreadable.
But beneath that practiced calm, bitterness coiled like a blade in his chest.
— Years of opportunity, wasted.
— Drakan's honor slipping beyond reach.
— A bloodline that could have elevated them, had discarded him like nothing.
None of this touched his voice when he finally spoke.
"A very concise message," he said evenly.
"Almost… efficient."
Lady Elendra Valeor, Lyrienne's mother, her expression softening as she reread the letter.
"What a relief." she murmured.
Adrast's jaw tightened by a fraction — barely perceptible.
But inside, the bitterness deepened.
— Relief? She calls this relief?
— Drakan blood was within our grasp.
— A future alliance with a rising house, tossed aside.
Outwardly, he nodded politely.
"If that is how you see it."
Elendra touched the parchment gently.
"Adrast, our daughter no longer has to tie herself to a house surrounded by instability. That alone is reason enough for us to feel relieved."
Her tone was warm, protective.
Adrast only offered a neutral hum.
Inside, he seethed.
— Instability brings opportunity to us.
— And now we stand apart rather than at their side.
A quiet knock punctured the tension as Cassian entered, bowing.
"My lord. My lady."
Adrast's voice remained composed.
"Cassian. Share what you've learned."
Cassian drew closer, hesitant.
"There are rumors… troubling ones." He paused.
"An assassin attempted to kill the Drakan heir three nights ago."
Elendra stiffened.
Adrast did not move.
But internally—
— Survived an assassination?, So the boy is not as fragile as he pretended.
Cassian continued.
"No one knows the attacker's affiliation."
Elendra shook her head.
"This only proves we are safer apart from him. Veinhelm Drakan is surrounded by danger."
Adrast inclined his head slightly.
" Possibly."
Inside, his bitterness twisted deeper.
Elendra crossed her arms,
"I thank the heavens our daughter will not be caught in such unpredictable shadows."
Adrast's voice remained flawlessly polite.
"Yes. Safety is paramount."
He delivered the words effortlessly.
Inside, he felt the sting of lost opportunity like a bruise.
— Drakan prestige slipped from my fingers. Tsk what useless kid…
Cassian bowed again.
"Shall I prepare a message to Lady Lyrienne? She will likely hear rumors soon."
"It doesn't matter... Inform her she can stay at the academy…."
Elendra placed her hand over Adrast's, unaware of his concealed resentment.
"This is for the best," she said softly.
"She may live freely now."
"Yes," he said.
But he gave no outward sign of the thought.
The Valeor hall remained quiet, dignified — the perfect mask over a father's ambition and a mother's relief.
*
*
*
The administration room of the imperial palace was quiet at this hour.
Only the steady crackle of the braziers and the rustle of parchment filled the vaulted chamber. Maps, sealed letters, and mana-infused reports lay arranged in careful rows across an obsidian table large enough for a dozen generals.
Seated alone at its head was Crown Prince Aurelius Veneris, quill in hand, expression carved from polished stone.
He was reviewing his morning intelligence.
A missing foreign envoy.
Mana-well instability in the north.
Two border lords requesting reinforcement against bandit incursions.
Routine, if not mildly irritating.
He reached for the next stack of papers — minor noble disturbances, personal family disputes, academy petitions. And there, almost lost in the pile, he noticed a short report with the Drakan crest drawing at its corner.
Aurelius raised an eyebrow.
" House Drakan? "
He unfolded the parchment.
"Veinhelm Drakan: Engagement dissolved.
Behavior markedly changed.
Adopts formal tone, strategic distance."
Aurelius blinked once — the closest he ever came to surprise.
"…Veinhelm Drakan?"
His voice was dry.
He skimmed again, just to ensure he hadn't misread.
This was the same boy known throughout the academy as an emotional storm. The same heir who publicly humiliated himself chasing the Valeor girl. The one whose name never appeared in reports unless accompanied by the word "incident."
And yet—
Aurelius leaned back in his chair, tapping the edge of the parchment.
"Drakan's heir…," he murmured.
"Now that is unusual."
He didn't frown.
He didn't smile.
He simply noted the anomaly with quiet curiosity.
A palace aide entered, bowing.
"Your Highness, shall we categorize that report as minor and dismiss it?"
Aurelius didn't answer immediately.
He reread the line about Veinhelm dissolving his engagement with surgical detachment.
"Forget it," the Prince said, tone almost reflective.
The aide nodded carefully.
"Shall I raise the priority?"
"No it's just something that surprised me " Aurelius said at once.
The aide blinked.
"Leave it categorized as minor, but leave a mark on it. " the Prince continued.
"Understood"
The aide bowed and left.
Aurelius turned back to the remaining documents, unconcerned but not dismissive.
Veinhelm Drakan was insignificant — a footnote in the empire's vast hierarchy.