The morning Lady Seraphina arrived was cold and unnaturally still, the wind having died down completely, leaving the central courtyard blanketed in a deceptive, pristine layer of fresh frost.
Captain Varrick had executed Kaelen's orders with mechanical efficiency. The south-east ridge was now a blank canvas of undisturbed snow, every trace of the Tier 5 battle erased. On the north wall, four men made a noisy, visible show of securing loose mortar, precisely where Seraphina would expect to see activity. The garrison looked desperate, but dutiful.
Kaelen waited in the tower, allowing the tension to build. He had spent the remaining nine hours of silence pushing his cultivation to its absolute limit, maintaining the rigid internal silence of his nascent Draconic Blood Magic. His focus was an iron cage around his power, allowing only the barest flicker of life to sustain him. He looked utterly wasted, his skin translucent in the pale light, his thin frame draped in the heavy, but clearly ill-fitting, robes of Prince Alaric.
The sound of the approach was unmistakable. It was not the clumsy thudding of an Imperial supply convoy, but the rhythmic, disciplined clip of thirty horses moving in perfect formation. The sound was followed by the low, continuous hum of active protective enchantments.
Kaelen descended the tower's interior stairs slowly, leaning heavily on a cane Varrick had salvaged, mimicking the weakness expected of a man consumed by the North's climate. Varrick met him at the base, his uniform immaculate, his posture a careful blend of exhaustion and staunch loyalty.
"The perimeter is secure, Your Highness," Varrick murmured, his eyes conveying the success of the Behemoth cover-up and the briefing he had given the men. "They believe the illness is severe."
"Good. Maintain the illusion, Captain," Kaelen rasped, forcing his voice to be thin. "Remember your role: the overwhelmed anchor. You are the only thing keeping your Prince from collapse."
The garrison gate creaked open, admitting the Empress's embassy.
Lady Seraphina's retinue was a stark, almost blinding contrast to the ruin of Stonehaven. Thirty Imperial Swords, clad in deep blue and silver armor, marched with a precision that turned the rubble-strewn courtyard into a parade ground. They carried specialized shield units: large, polished metal ovals that were not for physical defense, but housed the Mana-Sensitive Shield arrays. These devices continuously pulsed with a soft, green light, silently mapping the magical signature of the entire fortress perimeter.
Kaelen felt the gentle, searching probe of the enchantments passing over his body, confirming that the Arch-Mage's silence was absolute.
At the center of the formation stood Lady Seraphina.
Kaelen had only seen her in court portraits, stylized to emphasize her political pedigree. In person, she was infinitely more formidable. Tall and slender, she wore the heavy, fur-lined travel cloak of a Silverblood General, not the silks of a courtier. Her features were sharp, refined, and completely devoid of warmth. Her hair, the famous Silverblood white-gold, was pulled back tightly, emphasizing a jawline that spoke of iron will. Her eyes were a startling, clear sapphire; they swept across the courtyard, registering the decay, the under-manned defenses, and the pretense of repairs with cold, analytical speed.
She was not here under any pretense of meeting a prospective husband; she was here to execute a political assessment.
Seraphina paused precisely ten paces from Kaelen, forcing him to take the final, short, arduous steps.
"Prince Alaric," she stated, her voice carrying a deep, authoritative timbre that cut through the silence. It was not a greeting, but a definitive command of attention. "I am Lady Seraphina, Imperial Emissary, reporting as ordered by Her Majesty, the Empress."
Kaelen forced a slow, weak smile, one hand resting on his cane, the other instinctively clutching his side to suggest pain.
"Lady Seraphina," he returned, his voice slightly shaky. "Welcome to Stonehaven. Forgive my lack of proper hospitality. The Northern climate is proving… inhospitable to my recovery."
Her sapphire eyes fixed on his gaunt face, and Kaelen felt the full weight of the Silverblood scrutiny. It was not judgmental, but purely empirical. She was measuring him against a standard he knew he had failed before he'd even spoken.
"Your health is noted, Your Highness," she said, her tone flat. "I observe a debilitating physical state, consistent with the reports filed by Captain Varrick." She glanced at the Captain. "Captain. Your assessment of the Prince's ability to command and cultivate magic?"
Varrick stepped forward, playing his role perfectly. "Lady Seraphina. His Highness's recovery has been severely hindered by recurring fever and physical exhaustion. He displays remarkable fortitude, given his state, but his physical presence is waning. As for his cultivation, my Mana-Sensitive readings indicate no significant activity whatsoever. We rely on basic military discipline and luck to survive, not magic."
The lie was delivered with Varrick's characteristic professional honesty, giving it the weight of military truth. Seraphina simply nodded, accepting the observable data. Kaelen resisted the urge to praise Varrick; any sign of tactical coordination would alert her.
"The purpose of my visit, Your Highness, is two-fold," Seraphina continued, her focus returning to Kaelen. "First, to assess the immediate viability of Stonehaven Fortress as a forward defense post. I have thirty elite Imperial Swords, and we will conduct a full audit of your resources and tactical readiness over the next three days."
She gestured to the surrounding ruins. "Frankly, Your Highness, the initial impression is grim. The fortress appears to be a mere political liability, not a military asset."
Kaelen inclined his head slightly, acknowledging the insult without taking the bait. "It is what the Empress decreed, Lady Seraphina. One must make do with the Imperial assets one is provided."
"Indeed," she replied, a subtle tightening around her lips. "Which brings me to the second purpose. The contract between House Silverblood and the Imperial family stipulated that you, Prince Alaric, must demonstrate competence in the field—both military and magical—to secure the alliance and our eventual marriage. Based on the reports from the Harpy-Fiend incident and Captain Varrick's current assessment of your illness, the viability of that contract is now in question."
She took a single step closer, reducing the gap between them, forcing Kaelen to meet her gaze directly. The intensity of her sapphire eyes was that of a weapon.
"My objective is to spend three days here, observing your disposition and the status of this post. At the conclusion of this period, I shall, in accordance with Section Four, Sub-clause Beta of the contract, submit my final recommendation to the Empress. I am to assume that if you have failed to make progress in your cultivation, or if your physical state proves detrimental to the security of the frontier, I am authorized to formally dissolve the contract and return to the Capital without engagement."
This was the Silverblood ultimatum.
The Empress had sent her to collect her son's dignity and the Silverblood alliance, all in one neat, public political maneuver. Seraphina was the silver blade, and Kaelen was the intended sacrifice.
Kaelen suppressed a flicker of the Arch-Mage's cold rage. He was not Prince Alaric, whose heart would have broken at the public humiliation. He was Kaelen, the strategist, who saw the opening in the political choreography.
"Lady Seraphina," Kaelen began, pushing himself slightly straighter, forcing a thin thread of aristocratic arrogance into his strained voice. "You are the Empress's most trusted Emissary. I understand completely that Her Majesty cannot allow her heir to be associated with political or physical weakness. The contract terms are clear, and I submit to your three-day assessment without reservation."
He paused, letting his gaze hold hers, injecting a subtle, almost imperceptible challenge into the cold silence.
"However, Lady Seraphina, you may find that the northern frontier is not so easily judged by the protocols of the Capital. The threat here is not political, it is biological. Perhaps, by the end of your three days, your assessment of my ability to maintain the Empress's interests, even in this compromised state, may yield surprising results."
Seraphina studied him for a long moment, a ghost of confusion crossing her face. She had expected a plea for mercy or a display of petulant noble pride. She received only a sickly, yet composed, acceptance of his impending doom, overlaid with a strange, hidden certainty.
"I prefer empirical evidence, Your Highness, over rhetorical promises," Seraphina stated, her voice hardening again. "My guards will now establish a secure perimeter. Captain Varrick, I require the complete garrison logistics records, and an inventory of all magical assets. These will be delivered to my temporary quarters immediately. You are dismissed."
Seraphina turned on her heel, her Silverblood guards immediately forming a moving shield around her as she strode toward the largest intact building, the quartermaster's hall. The green light of the Mana-Sensitive Shields washed over the fortress one last time, reinforcing the barrier between the political reality of the Empire and the desperate, hidden struggle taking place within Stonehaven.
Kaelen watched her go, leaning heavily on the cane until she was out of sight.
"Well done, Captain," Kaelen finally whispered to Varrick, the forced accent of the Prince immediately dropping. "She is exactly as capable as the Empress intended. She is here to audit us into oblivion."
"She is magnificent, Your Highness," Varrick admitted, still slightly stunned by Seraphina's imposing presence.
"Magnificent, and predictable," Kaelen countered. "She will audit the records Jarek manipulated, and she will find nothing. She will find a garrison that is weak but compliant. She expects decay, and we have given her controlled decay. But she will not expect the Gravel-Skinned Behemoth's death, which is our greatest asset. Keep the men focused on the illusion, Varrick. For the next three days, my life, and our strategy, depend on her finding only the failures the Empress wants to see."
Kaelen slowly turned back toward his tower, his body aching, his mind already calculating the three-day game of evasion he had to play. He knew Seraphina would test him. He just had to ensure that when the test came, he could use Prince Alaric's body to unleash the Arch-Mage's true power without triggering her Silverblood countermeasures.
The political game had begun.