Chapter Two
The masked figure stepped into a chamber drowned in shadow, where a vast desk loomed like a throne of judgment. He bowed low.
— "My lord… Patriarch of the Family."
He recounted all that he had witnessed that night. The patriarch's fury ignited, his voice a thunderclap that shook the walls.
— "An insult to the honor of our bloodline?! Such blasphemy will not go unanswered!"
With a wave of his hand, he commanded: "Summon the Shadow Guard."
---
That very night, within the gilded halls of the Valterin Family, a grand banquet was underway in celebration of their chieftain. Laughter echoed, wine flowed—until the lights dimmed.
From the darkness, they emerged: men clad in sable garments, their faces swallowed by iron masks. They encircled the hall like wolves.
One spoke, his voice colder than steel:
— "One false move… and you will all be erased."
A noble roared in defiance:
— "Imperial dogs! How dare you raise blades against us?!"
His words died with him. His head fell, severed in a single stroke. Gasps filled the banquet as blood touched the marble. The killer stood still, the silence around him louder than screams.
Then their leader strode forward, seating himself with unnerving calm upon a chair meant for lords.
— "No need for panic… We share the same blood, after all."
But another masked man cut in sharply:
— "That parasite is no more. The mother is with us now. Whatever kinship once bound us… is severed."
The Valterin chieftain surged to his feet, his voice burning with rage:
— "Lies! We agreed—the children would remain in our care until they were old enough to choose their own path!"
In a blink, a dagger pressed cold against his throat.
— "I remember no such pact. You stand before two roads: war… or the Imperial Court."
His eyes flickered with doubt, but at last he yielded.
"This is a snare… If we march to war, it will be a war of attrition. We have already lost two of our mightiest. No, the court shall decide…"
---
The Imperial Court
The golden throne room bathed in radiance as Emperor Alex entered, each step measured, commanding. A hush swept across the chamber; every gaze bent toward him.
His voice resounded like a storm:
— "Today, we judge a quarrel that threatens to tear apart an empire eight centuries in the making. Peace shall endure."
He gestured to the Roselyn envoy.
With a voice of iron, the man declared:
— "We charge the Valterin Family with violating the sacred treaty—neglecting the child entrusted to their care, falsifying documents, and weaving lies."
The Valterin envoy bowed stiffly.
— "Baseless accusations. There is no proof."
The Roselyn man thundered:
— "The boy himself is proof! Countless scars and wounds! His mother, Maria, wasting away before our very eyes! And we hold hundreds of recordings that lay bare the truth!"
The Valterin envoy faltered, lashing out:
— "Spying?! You admit to this before the Emperor himself?!"
The Emperor struck his gavel, the hall quaking beneath the blow.
— "Silence!"
For a moment, he closed his eyes. Within, his thoughts wrestled:
"How am I to choose? Roselyn are the guardians of my throne… yet Valterin stand watch against the beasts of the East. To lose either would wound the empire."
At last, his gaze sharpened, his voice ringing like iron on an anvil:
— "My judgment shall be delivered in two hours. Until then—depart."
And with that, the court dispersed, the fate of empires hanging in the balance.