At Liam's room, a letter arrived sometime after breakfast.
Liam blinked at it as it sat unopened on his desk, the wax seal already broken by the servant who'd delivered it. He stared at it for another five seconds before lazily plucking it off the polished wood.
He read.
It was short. Carefully written by Jorvik Maddach—just as you would expect any other noble to write their letter. Formal.
Liam frowned slightly as he read the content:
"I would appreciate your presence for a private meal. There are things I wish to discuss regarding what occurred between us. I understand if you are reluctant, but I offer this as a peaceful gesture. Lunch, my room. I will provide the meal."
At the bottom, Jorvik had signed his full name. Underlined it, even.
Liam scratched his double chin absently. "Huh."
He didn't think much of it. It felt strange, sure. Sudden. But then again, the last time they saw each other, Jorvik had been knocked flat with a single palm strike. Maybe this was his way of handling it. A wounded ego seeking closure.
Besides—
"Free lunch."
He smiled.
Sera, who had just finished folding the last of his bedsheets, glanced up.
He held the note out between two fingers. "Tell the chef not to prepare lunch. Looks like I've got a generous fan."
Sera blinked. "Fan?"
"Jorvik."
Her brows rose slightly. "...I see."
She didn't care about the details. Liam seemed to be in a good mood, and that meant she wasn't going to get a beating.
He waved the note. "It's fine. I'll save myself a little money."
Sera nodded, bowed politely, and left the room.
Liam stretched, rotating his shoulders lazily, and pocketed the note.
The room number listed wasn't far. A few halls over, down a well-polished corridor in one of the nicer estate wings. Odd.
He'd heard Jorvik sold his original room for a handful of mana cream bottles.
Why would Jorvik invite him to a room he had already sold to Kaelus?
As he walked, something itched at the back of his mind.
It was too polite. Too cordial. Too… planned.
Still, what was there to worry about? He'd humiliated Jorvik in front of half the House with one open-handed slap.
The boy wasn't a threat. And if this was some half-baked revenge scheme, then it was an even dumber one than Liam expected.
He rounded the final corner.
Stopped.
The room was nice.
Very nice.
His steps slowed as he stepped into the doorway. Ornate double doors. Brass trim. The hallway rug outside was crimson, not the standard navy.
The door opened before he could knock.
"Liam," Jorvik said, beaming with a smile. "Come in. I've been expecting you."
He was dressed in his best suit.
Pressed. Clean. The gold embroidery shimmered faintly in the light pouring from the ceiling chandelier.
His hair was neatly combed back, and his smile was practiced, but not unnatural.
I thought he sold his clothes too? Liam thought. Maybe the Codex Imperialis records are wrong?
Liam looked past him into the room.
The space was large. Larger than Liam's. The glass chandeliers, the polished floor, the wall mirrors—everything felt… appointed. Not grand, compared to the rooms that the other nobles had, but cared for.
He blinked.
Jorvik caught the reaction. "It's still Kaelus's room," he said lightly. "I sold my things, yes. But Kaelus hasn't moved in yet. So I'm permitted to stay… temporarily."
Liam's eyes moved once more to the chandelier.
It was beautiful.
Too beautiful.
But the smell of the meal was already working its charm.
"Come," Jorvik said, gesturing to a round table set beneath the chandelier's glow. "Please. Sit."
Liam did.
The food was already plated.
De-shelled crab, glazed with butter. A pitcher of cold citrus water. Crushed herbs on silver trays. All placed perfectly in front of him.
He hadn't eaten much today.
Liam picked up a fork, let the bite hover for a moment—then popped it into his mouth.
Warm, tender, dripping with rich butter.
He almost blacked out right then.
He stopped, breathing in through his nose. Carefully set the crab down again before his body could betray him. He took a long sip of the water.
Focus.
Across from him, Jorvik sat down.
There was a pause.
"I appreciate you coming," Jorvik said, voice measured.
Liam licked a bit of butter off his thumb. "Sure. What's this about?"
Jorvik folded his hands. "The matter of our spar."
Liam raised an eyebrow, reaching for another crab piece. "What about it?"
He took another bite. Slower this time. He was trying—trying—not to fall into the trance again.
Jorvik's tone shifted. Just slightly.
"I've lost a lot of fights in my life," he said. "Some worse than others. But I always tried to avenge them. Even if I failed."
Liam kept eating.
"But you—" Jorvik said. "Your reputation is what makes the result of the fight quite annoying to me. I didn't expect to lose. And I didn't expect to lose, especially like that."
He leaned forward. "And I intend to fix that."
Liam nodded, setting the crab down again. "Alright. When do you want to fight?"
It wasn't that much of a problem. If a fight was what Jorvik wanted, then that was what he was going to give Jorvik.
After all, all it took was a slap to beat him the last time.
Jorvik smiled.
"Now."
Liam blinked. "What?"
"I want to fight you now."
"That, uh, no. That won't work," Liam said flatly. "I've got a match with Valen soon. I need to be in top condition."
Jorvik ignored that. "I've been studying engineering lately," he said. "Turns out, I'm probably better at learning than fighting."
He gestured to the table.
"Tell me—do you know what this button does?"
Liam glanced down.
A small panel. A few buttons.
He pointed vaguely. "Turns on the lights?"
Jorvik smiled wider.
"But you could also use it to trigger something else."
He pressed it.
There was a click above.
Liam glanced up.
The light from the chandelier above him turned off.
A low grinding sound followed. Then, it descended.
Fast.
Too fast.
Liam pushed back from the chair, trying to move—but the chandelier slammed down with a sickening metallic crunch onto the back of his head.
Everything spun.
He hit the ground. Something warm ran down the side of his face.
His vision blurred as the world around him continued to spin.
Blood pooled on the floor in front of him.
Jorvik's voice reached him through the haze.
"Round two."