***Raizel***
The summons came at dusk, delivered by a servant whose carefully neutral expression could not quite hide the nervous tension that radiated from him like heat from a forge.
He bowed low outside my study door, his eyes fixed to the ground as though afraid to meet my gaze.
"My lord, Duke Magnus requests your presence in the west wing chamber," he said, his voice steady despite the slight tremor in his hands.
My father rarely summoned me directly to the council chamber. His commands usually came through carefully worded letters or through uncles who fancied themselves his voice in matters too delicate for official correspondence.
For him to call me himself meant something significant had shifted in the delicate balance of our household's politics. I dismissed the servant with a curt nod and rose from my desk, a familiar knot of dread already tightening in my chest.
The corridor stretched long and dim before me, lit by torches whose flames sputtered in the draft that perpetually moved through Ravenshollow's ancient stones.
The air carried the familiar scents of oil and cold stone, leather and old wood, the distinctive atmosphere of the Ashforde stronghold that had shaped my entire existence.
I had walked these passages countless times since childhood, yet tonight each step felt heavier than the last, as though I approached not a family meeting but a judgment that would determine the course of my future.
The knowledge of what had transpired during the creature attack weighed heavily on my mind. I had managed to suppress the full details in my official reports, ensuring that the servants who witnessed Cadiz's barrier understood the consequences of loose tongues.
The captain of the guard had been quietly reassigned to distant border duties, and the few soldiers who might have seen too much had been scattered to other posts. As far as the official record showed, our defenses had held through conventional means, with no mention of supernatural intervention.
But secrets had a way of finding their way to my father's ears, no matter how carefully I tried to contain them. If even a whisper had reached the council of elders about what Cadiz had done about the barrier that had saved half the fortress, then this summons carried far more danger than mere family displeasure.
When I entered the chamber, Duke Magnus was not alone. Three elder relatives sat at his side, their faces cut from the same cold stone that had shaped my father's features over decades of wielding absolute power.
Lord Eamon, thin and sharp as a blade, watched me with eyes that missed nothing. Lady Morrigan, beautiful and deadly, her smile as cutting as winter wind.
Lord Corvin, soft-spoken, his hands folded neatly on the table as though he were a kindly priest, but his mind was the most dangerous of all, because cruelty always sounded gentle on his tongue.
They did not rise when I entered, a deliberate show of authority that reminded me exactly where I stood in our family's hierarchy.
"Raizel," my father said, his voice carrying that weight of absolute command that had shaped my character since I was old enough to understand language. "You have been neglecting your most important duty."
I stopped at the prescribed distance from the table and offered the slight bow that protocol demanded. "I fulfill all the tasks you assign, my lord. The estate prospers under my management. The soldiers are drilled and ready. The borders remain secure. There has been no neglect."
Magnus's hand struck the armrest of his chair with deliberate force, not anger, but the calculated display of authority that reminded everyone present who held ultimate power in this room. "I speak not of soldiers or walls or borders, son. I speak of the Eberhart boy."
My chest tightened involuntarily, though I forced my expression to remain perfectly composed. "Cadiz."
"Yes. Cadiz." My father leaned forward, his pale eyes so like my own, fixing on me with predatory intensity. "We requested him for a specific purpose, yet you persist in keeping him at arm's length. Do you mistake this house for a place of idle shelter?"
Lord Eamon's thin lips curved in what might have been a smile, though it held no warmth. "The servants whisper, my lord. They speak of strange incidents that follow in his wake, lights that flicker without cause, devices that respond to his mere presence, objects that behave in ways that defy natural law. Such phenomena are not coincidental. They are proof of what we have long suspected."
"Proof that he is far more valuable than his family ever realized," added Lord Corvin, his voice carrying that deceptively gentle tone that made his words all the more unsettling, his smile was soft, almost kind.
"A natural born 'Null Omega', the first to appear in generations. Do you comprehend the weight of that, nephew? If we can bind him to our cause through proper emotional manipulation, our long term plans could advance by decades."
The words struck like hammer blows against steel, but I forced my expression to remain unchanged despite the ice that suddenly flowed through my veins. They knew. Perhaps not the full extent of what Cadiz had accomplished during the attack,
but they clearly suspected enough to make their intentions explicit.
"I am taking steps." I said. The lie left my mouth, smooth as water.
"Taking steps," my father repeated, investing the words with such contempt that they seemed to wither in the air between us. "Yet you treat him as though he were nothing more than a distant political acquaintance. He was given to you as a tool to be shaped, Raizel. Do not confuse sentiment with strategy. We did not arrange this marriage for your personal satisfaction."
I stood silent, recognizing the dangerous ground I now walked. Any response could be interpreted as defiance.
Yet silence might be seen as agreement with plans that filled me with cold dread.