The Meeting Chamber released them slowly.
Not physically—there were no chains, no doors slammed behind them—but the pressure that had coiled around Elias's chest loosened with each step they took away from the hall. The air in the corridors felt lighter, though the stone walls remained just as imposing, the guards just as still.
Elias exhaled quietly.
Relief came—not as a flood, but as a quiet settling. Like tension unwinding from muscles he hadn't realized he had been holding.
He didn't show it.
His expression remained as neutral as ever, his posture straight, his hands tucked calmly into his pockets as he walked beside his father.
Jamie, on the other hand was less subtle.
Her boots striking the stone with more force than necessary. Her arms were still crossed. Her jaw was still tight. The intent she had cast in the chamber had withdrawn, but its echo lingered in the set of her shoulders.
"Those people…I don't like them."
Her voice was low, but it carried enough bite to make its way through the quiet hallway. Gyan glanced at her briefly but said nothing.
Alaric continued walking.
"They weren't even trying to hide it," Jamie muttered, crossing her arms. "Just staring like—like we're things."
"Tools," Elias said flatly.
Jamie clicked her tongue.
"Yeah. That."
They stepped out of the building.
The moment they crossed the threshold, the city returned.
Sound rushed back in—carriages rolling across stone, distant chatter, the cry of gulls overhead. The sea breeze slipped between buildings, carrying salt and something faintly metallic.
It felt… real again. The afternoon sun was moving steadily toward the west. They had spent hours spent hours in the hall. They didn't stop and went straight to their carriage, leaving the premises.
Gyan adjusted her sleeve slightly as she sat step beside Alaric.
"I must admit," she said, her tone even, "I did not expect your 'irresistible ally' to be Ortis Mellou."
"Wait—that lazy guy?"
Elias didn't comment, but his gaze shifted slightly toward his father.
Alaric smiled faintly.
"We're not allies."
Gyan tilted her head slightly.
"No?"
"No," Alaric repeated calmly.
"We simply… have a mutual understanding."
Gyan said nothing for a moment.
Then—she smiled. It was small. Knowing.
Alaric noticed.
"Don't start..."
"I didn't say anything," Gyan replied smoothly.
"That's precisely the problem."
Jamie looked between them.
"What just happened?"
"Nothing," Elias said.
"Something," Jamie insisted.
Elias ignored her.
Alaric let out a quiet breath before shifting his attention.
"So," he said, glancing at the two children, "what did you kids think of the Council?"
"They're annoying."
Elias glanced at her.
"That's… a summary."
"They were looking at us weird," she continued, frowning.
"Like they were already planning something."
Alaric tensed.
That alone was enough to make both children pause.
His expression wasn't angry. But it was firm.
"Jamie."
She stiffened slightly.
"What you did in there—don't do it again."
Her brows furrowed immediately.
"They started it."
"That doesn't matter."
"It does matter," she shot back. "They were—"
"Jamie."
His voice didn't rise. But it cut through her words cleanly.
She fell silent.
Alaric leaned forward slightly so that he was at eye level with her.
"In Blackwood," he said, his tone softer now, "I worked very hard to make things simple for us."
Jamie's lips pressed together.
"I know."
"I made it so people could speak freely. Act freely. Live without constantly watching their back."
He straightened.
"But we are not in Blackwood."
Jamie looked away.
"This is the capital," he continued. "A place governed by nuance. By conditions. By people who will twist anything you do into something they can use. That is what they do."
Jamie's hands clenched slightly at her sides.
"So I'm just supposed to let them look at us like that?"
"No," Alaric said.
Her head snapped back toward him.
"But you must learn when to respond," he added, "and when not to."
Jamie hesitated.
That… was harder.
Her shoulders dropped slightly.
"…fine," she muttered. "I'll try."
Alaric's expression softened.
"That's all I ask."
He leaned forward and placed a hand briefly on her head before returning to his seat.
"They'll let it go this time," he added. "You're still a child. You didn't know."
Elias looked out the window at the city, silent.
But his mind was moving.
Alaric glanced at him briefly.
"These are the things you'll have to deal with going forward."
Elias didn't respond immediately.
"…politics," he said eventually, turning to his father.
"Not just politics," Alaric corrected.
"Rules."
There was a brief pause.
"There are sixteen fundamental rules that govern conduct within the Council and its associated institutions."
Jamie groaned softly.
"Sixteen?"
"Yes."
Elias listened.
"Some are straightforward," Alaric continued. "For example—no use of Traits or weapons within the Council building."
Elias nodded slightly.
"That prevents direct conflict."
"Correct."
Alaric's gaze shifted to the city outside.
"Another—no Lord may abandon their seat while the council is in session without official leave. Regardless of circumstance."
Elias's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Even if it's necessary?"
"Even if it's necessary."
"That's inefficient."
"That's governance," Alaric replied calmly, returning his gaze to his son.
Jamie made a face.
"That's dumb."
Alaric ignored her.
"Other rules are… less rigid," he continued. "They depend on interpretation. Context. Timing."
Elias caught that, subtle but important.
Rules that could bend.
Or be bent.
"Two rules can intersect," Alaric added, "and create something… new, depending on how they are applied."
Elias's gaze sharpened slightly.
That was—interesting.
"These are the things you will have to navigate, but I trust you'll learn."
Elias gave a small nod.
"I will try."
But as he said it—
Elias
Something stirred.
A pull.
Faint. Distant. Like a thread tied somewhere deep in his chest, tugging gently toward something he could not see.
Elias faltered for just a fraction of a second.
"…?"
Elias
Unmistakable this time.
Tamamo.
But internally—he frowned.
'Not now.'
The pull lingered.
But it wasn't urgent.
So—
He ignored it.
For now.
The Residency stretched around them—rows of elegant townhouses, each one distinct, each one carrying the identity of its owner. Some were grand, with sprawling gardens and high gates. Others were more reserved, but no less refined.
Servants moved in and out of buildings.
Guards stood at posts.
Eyes followed them as they passed.
Some respectful.
Some indifferent.
Some—still carrying that same quiet malice.
Eventually—
They stopped and alighted from their vehicle.
Elias looked up.
The Dukker townhouse stood before them.
It was… smaller.
Not unimpressive—but modest compared to the estates around it.
Two stories tall, built from dark stone with subtle crimson accents along the window frames and roof edges. The design was clean, practical—more function than display. A narrow garden sat at the front, bordered by a simple iron fence.
No guards.
No servants.
Just the house.
Jamie blinked.
"That's it?"
Alaric smiled faintly.
"That's it."
Elias studied it quietly.
Compared to Blackwood Keep—it was nothing.
But—
It felt… intentional.
"Wait," Jamie said, looking around. "Where's everyone?"
"We are everyone."
"Whaaa-?"
She pointed at the neighboring houses.
"They've got like— at least ten people each! Guards, maids, gardeners—everything!"
She turned back to him.
"This is underwhelming."
Alaric laughed softly.
"That's them."
He stepped forward.
"I am not them."
He pushed the gate open.
"I am fully capable of maintaining a house on my own."
He stepped inside.
Jamie followed, still looking unconvinced.
The interior was modest but comfortable. A sitting room to the left, a dining room to the right, a staircase leading up to the second floor. The furniture was simple, well-made, unadorned. There were no paintings on the walls, no statues in the corners. It was the house of someone who did not intend to stay long.
Gyan had disappeared the moment they entered the house. Now she reappeared in a maid uniform.
Elias blinked.
Jamie's eyes widened.
The outfit was simple but refined—black dress, white apron, fitted neatly to her frame. Her curly afro puff remained unchanged, but the contrast between her earlier professional attire and this—
Was striking.
Jamie's gaze slowly moved up and down.
It reminded her of Aina.
Her eyes narrowed and her intent flickered.
'She's coming straight for Elias's weakness.'
She glanced at him, he was still staring.
'She's dangerous.'
"You changed." Elias said.
"Yes."
"That was fast."
"I am efficient."
Jamie leaned slightly toward Elias.
"She's coming straight for your weakness. Don't let her get to you."
"What are you on about? What weakness?"
Gyan ignored them both.
"I will be handling both housekeeping and security," she said calmly, smoothing the front of her apron.
"There is no need for additional staff."
Jamie crossed her arms.
"You're doing both?"
"Yes."
Elias tilted his head slightly.
"What stage are you?"
Gyan did not answer.
Instead—
"Some Lords attempted to spread rumors," she continued smoothly, "once they discovered I reside here with Lord Dukker."
Jamie perked up immediately.
"Oh?"
"That we are… involved."
Jamie's grin widened. Alaric sighed faintly.
"But Lord Alaric barely stays here so I mostly have the house to myself. Besides, I have no interest in a man like him."
"What kind of man are you interested in?"
The moment the words left his mouth, he realized what he had said. Heat rose to his cheeks. He looked away.
"…that was—"
Gyan smirked.
"My preference," she said lightly, "is someone older than you."
"…I didn't mean—"
"Of course you didn't."
She turned.
"I'm only telling you this so that our neighbors won't be able to get to you with false rumors. I'll go prepare food."
Alaric nodded.
"That would be appreciated."
"I've left the documents on your table."
"I'll review them."
He ascended the stairs.
"I'll be in my room then."
And just like that—he was gone.
Jamie immediately turned toward Gyan, her intent flickering again. Then she straightened her shoulders and stalked after her.
"I'm coming with you."
Gyan did not turn.
"As you wish."
Jamie's voice drifted back, low and muttering.
"I won't let you have your own way..."
Elias stood alone in the sitting room.
The house was quiet now. The distant sounds of Gyan moving in the kitchen, the soft creak of Alaric's footsteps overhead, the faint hum of the city outside the window. He exhaled slowly.
The pull came again.
Elias
Stronger this time. Not overwhelming—but insistent. A reminder that he was not alone in his own skin.
He sighed.
"…fine."
'I'll see what she wants.'
He walked up the stairs in search of a room.