Kael always knew he would die young.
In his line of work that wasn't pessimism. It was just math.
What he didn't expect was Marcus. His right hand. The one man he had ever let close enough to matter. Turned out the price for Kael's head was enough to make even loyalty feel flexible.
The man had eaten at his table every Sunday for six years. Kael paid for his sister's wedding. Bought his mother a house. Pulled him out of three different graves.
And Marcus looked him in the eye, shook his hand, and slipped poison into his drink like it was Tuesday.
Kael felt his body start shutting down. Slow. Quiet. He leaned back in his chair, looked at Marcus across the table and smiled.
Marcus looked uncomfortable.
Good.
"You could have just asked for a raise," Kael said.
Those were his last words.
He thought they were pretty good last words.
---
Then he woke up in a new body and decided that was everyone else's problem.
---
Fifteen years later.
The Varenthos Empire. Third Prince's chambers. Early morning.
Lord Cassin was a large man. He had broad shoulders, thick neck, and the kind of face that had never once questioned itself. He had walked into Adonis's chambers without knocking, dropped a scroll on his table and started talking about border taxes like he owned the room.
He probably thought he did.
"The eastern funds need to be redirected," Cassin said. "Your brothers have already agreed. All we need is your signature Your Highness."
Adonis looked up from his book.
To anyone looking at him he was exactly what the court expected. Fifteen years old. Blonde gold hair that caught the morning light. Blue eyes that always looked slightly bored. The third prince. The forgotten one. The one nobody bothered watching because there was nothing to watch.
The weakest of the emperor's sons they said.
Kael — the man who had once made an entire criminal organization vanish in three days — looked at Lord Cassin and smiled pleasantly.
"You?" Adonis said, pressing a hand to his chest with wide eyes. "Me Powerful? Oh no no no. You are the powerful one here. I'm just a humble prince. Third in line. Practically a civilian really."
Cassin blinked.
"I just think," Adonis continued, tilting his head innocently, "that a man of your stature, your influence, your incredible network of friends in the treasury — why would you need my signature at all? Surely you don't need a boy like me."
"Your Highness—"
"Unless." Adonis tapped his chin. "The other signatures you collected aren't actually legal without mine." He smiled. "Is that it?"
Cassin's jaw tightened.
Adonis went back to his book.
"Leave the scroll. I'll think about it."
This was the third prince of the Varenthos Empire. An empire rotting from the inside. Corrupt nobles picking at its bones. Enemy kingdoms sharpening their swords at its borders. An emperor too sick to hold it together.
And sitting right in the middle of it all — unbothered, turning a page — was the most dangerous man who had ever lived.
He just looked fifteen.
Then the system chimed.
[Ding! Sovereign Bond System — Online.]
[First available target detected. Awaiting your move, Your Highness.]
Adonis's eyes flicked to the corner of the room.
Cassin's personal guard. A woman standing by the door as still as stone with her eyes forward. The kind of stillness that didn't come from discipline, it came from someone who had learned that drawing attention to yourself was dangerous.
'Interesting.'
[Target: Serah Voss. Rank: Fallen Knight. Potential: Suppressed. Bind available.]
Adonis looked back at Cassin.
"Actually," he said. "I'll sign it today."
Cassin looked surprised. Then relieved. Then suspicious in that order.
"But I want one thing in return."
"...What thing?"
Adonis nodded toward the woman by the door.
"Her."