Fabio sat in silence long enough for the hall to grow restless. No one moved. No one dared. All breath were ceased.
His fingers tapped the arm of his seat once, then stopped. At last he exhaled, deep and measured, like a man weighing kingdoms in his lungs. "I must confess," he said slowly, "you have brought a compelling offer."
A stir moved through the nobles. But Fabio raised a hand, and stillness returned. "Yet I cannot give you a reply right away." His eyes narrowed with caution. "This concerns my House." His voice hardened. "I will discuss it with my family and give you our collective decision."
Theon bowed at once. Very low. "Very well, my lord." His tone held respect, but beneath it lived urgency. "I shall lodge here as long as it takes you to decide."
Fabio nodded, then turned to a servant. "Prepare rooms for Lord Theon and his men." The servant bowed and hurried off. And just like that, the matter was suspended. Not settled, only hanging on the air.
That evening, with the negotiations paused, Felix led Theon through Ashford..The city breathed with its own rhythm. Farmers returned with mud on their boots and grain on their shoulders.
Fishermen dragged nets dripping silver under the dying light. Children ran through narrow streets. Vendors called. Smoke curled from cooking fires.
Theon watched everything. A kingdom worth allying with, he thought. Or worth fighting for. Then his steps slowed. His eyes shifted toward the sea.
And stopped.
A girl stood in the water. Bathing where the tide kissed the shore. The fading sun struck her skin like bronze touched by flame. Her dark hair clung wet to her shoulders. Half veiled by water, and half by twilight.
Theon forgot the city, he forgot Felix who was beside him. For a moment, he only stared at the sight before him.
His breath caught. "Who…" He pointed almost absently. "Who is that beautiful girl?"
Felix followed his gaze. A smile touched his face. "She is the most beautiful girl in the kingdom of Ashford." Then his smile sharpened. "Why do you ask?"
But Theon did not answer at once. His eyes had not moved. Something reckless flashed across his face.
Then came the words. "I wish I could have her on my bed tonight."
Felix's smile vanished so fast. His face hardened. "My lord…" There was warning in his tone.
"Be careful not to use those words on her." Theon turned, sensing the shift.
Felix leaned closer. "You speak of the Warden's favorite child." The words hit.
Theon froze. His expression changed in an instant. "She is…" He blinked. "Your sister?"
Felix nodded once. Theon immediately bowed his head, almost reflex. "I am sorry." His voice had lost all heat. "I did not know."
Felix studied him for a moment. Then gave a small nod. The Tension reduced. The sea kept moving. The girl never knew she had halted a diplomat mid-thought.
And the two men walked on. But something about that fleeting glimpse lingered. Like trouble only beginning.
Night settled over Ashford with a strange heaviness.
The sea wind rattled the shutters of the Warden's stronghold, while torches hissed in iron brackets along the stone walls. Inside Lord Fabio's inner conference chamber, the great oak doors shut with a thud, sealing the family away from servants, guards, and listening ears.
This was a blood council. No outsiders. No lies. Only House Kenwool. A long table stretched beneath hanging lamps.
Fabio sat at its head, broad shouldered, stern, his fingers laced before him. To his right sat his sons. Festus first, rigid as iron. Felix beside him, quieter, observant..Frank leaning forward, restless. To Fabio's left sat his daughters.
Friya.
Cold-faced, and unreadable.
Beside her, Frida, younger, sharper-eyed, watching everyone.
At the far end sat Fen, Fabio's brother, old but dangerous in the way seasoned men often were. Near him sat Fabian and Felicia, Fen's children. They were both warriors. Blood of the same house.
The room held the silence of a battlefield before the first arrows.
Then Fabio broke it. "You have all heard the offer." His voice carried slowly, and measured. "Drexo has promised Friya the queen's throne." His eyes moved to his eldest daughter. "Her children will be the only recognizable heirs to the Golden Throne."
A murmur almost rose, but died fast. Fabio continued. "And in addition," His fingers tapped the wood once. "We may command the nation's army for the first time." That landed heavily.
Military command, and royal succession, the very powers every great house in Astarous will kill for. The offer glittered like a crown, and like a trap at the same time.
Silence stretched.
Everyone was turning it over. Weighing pride. Power, oath, and a possible war.
At last Fen cleared his throat. The old man leaned forward. "I would advise that we take the offer."
Some heads turned. He did not flinch. "We have been allies of House Dragaria for years." His voice hardened. "Good allies.".He pointed to the table. "This is our chance to preserve that bond."
He leaned back.."We should not discard five hundred years over wounded pride."
Festus suddenly rose, his chair scraping the stone hard, and violently. His eyes blazed.."We are not oath breakers." The words cracked through the chamber. No one interrupted. He stood towering. "We withdrew from Drexo's side for a legitimate reason."
His fist pressed the table. "And we swore our swords to Robert Rendell." He looked from face to face. "He has done nothing to sever that alliance." His jaw tightened. "Niether did he do anything to break that oath."
He pointed sharply. "We should not be the ones to break it." His words struck.
Heavy.
Fabian stood calmly, but no less intense. "Indeed…" He folded his hands behind his back. "…we are in a tight corner."
He paced once. "We have sworn to Robert."
He paused, then he turned. "But let us not forget…" His eyes found Festus. "…we swore our swords to House Dragaria for over five centuries."
The room stirred.
Old loyalties, ancient debts, ghosts of ancestors seemed seated among them.
Festus answered instantly. "They broke that oath." His voice cut. "When Drexo dishonored our house." He looked toward Friya. "When he humiliated our sister." His chest rose sharply. "We are no longer bound to that oath."
Fabio said nothing, he only watched, studied and measured them as they spoke. Then his eyes turned to Felix. "What do you say?"
Felix shifted, then rose. He was less forceful than Festus. But the room listened. Because Felix rarely wasted words.."I have fought beside Drexo's men." His voice was low, and steady. "I have bled beside them."
He paused.
And that pause carried memory. Steel, mud, War cries, and brotherhood. His gaze dropped briefly. "I do not want to kill them in battle." The words came soft. But cut deeper than shouting. Even Festus looked away.
Then a chair scraped. Felicia rose: massive framed, and broad shouldered. A woman built more like a war captain than a noble daughter..Her scar caught a torchlight..When she spoke, her voice filled the chamber. "I care less for wounded feelings."
She folded thick arms. "I care for which king offers more." Her stare hardened. "And Drexo offers more than Robert did. Her words were simple, brutal, and true.
Festus let out a dry amused chuckle. A dangerous sound. He looked at her. "So…".he said slowly. "You would break your oath to a king who never dishonored you…" His tone sharpened. "…to rejoin the one who did?"
Felicia's jaw tightened. But before she answered, Festus turned toward Fabio, and pressed harder. "Robert could have attacked Ashford." He spread his hands. "We were isolated."
His voice rose. "And vulnerable. Yet Robert chose alliance, and not conquest."
He paused and let that sink. Then he laughed once: dry, and bitter. Then he turned to Friya
The room shifted, everyone felt his fury. This was no longer politics. This was personal.
Festus stared directly into his sister's eyes. "Drexo once swore his body and his purity to you."
Friya's fingers clenched. The room noticed, but Festus did not stop. "He did not keep it."
Another pause.
Then he pointed his finger from one person to another. "What makes you think" His voice lowered. "…he will honour this promise?"
Silence fell: total, and absolute. It struck the room like thunder. Even torch flames seemed to still.
Frida's eyes widened. Felix looked at the floor. Fabian froze mid-breath. Fen said nothing. Fabio's face darkened. Everyone of them was in a deep thought.
But Friya sat unmoving. Only her knuckles whitened. Festus had spoken aloud what all had thought but none dared say. And now it hung in the chamber.
Alive, yet ugly and poisonous. What makes you think he will keep this promise? No one answered. Because no one had an easy answer. Fabio's fingers slowly tightened around the carved arm of his chair.
He looked at his daughter. Not as Warden, but as father, who was Waiting. The question lingered over them all. And every heart in that chamber stiffened under its weight.