At nighttime, the castle's great halls were all but empty. The torches that lined the stone corridors flickered, chasing moving shadows down the walls. Aric strode toward him, his boots thudding against the marble.
A summons from Duke Vaelis was never a matter to be taken lightly. It signaled that the Duke was done looking from the outside.
He wanted answers.
And he wasn't going to ask gently.
Aric stepped before the tall, double doors of the Duke's private chamber, two armored guards stationed at its impressive entrance. Their hands rested on their sword hilts, glaring up with fierce intensity.
One of them stepped forward. "No weapons past this point."
Aric smirked but complied. He unclipped the blade from his hip and held it out. "Don't go losing it," he said with lazy detachment.
The guard didn't react. With a quick nod, he stepped aside and pushed the doors open.
Aric stepped inside.
The chamber was dimly lit, a fire crackling in the mantel. The air was thick with the smell of aging parchment, wine, and glistening steel.
Duke Vaelis stood at the window, hands folded behind his back, looking out over his city. His sweeping navy-blue robes billowed a bit from the night wind.
Without turning, he spoke. "You're quite the intimidator, aren't you Aric?"
Aric smirked. "I try."
The Duke finally turned, his cold, sharp gaze examining him. "You humiliated Sir Reynard. You play with both Lady Isadora and Lady Evelyne. And now you roam my halls as if you own them."
Aric spread his hands. "Would you rather I kneel?"
A tense silence. Then, to Aric's surprise, the Duke chuckled softly.
"Arrogance," he mused. "Some would call it foolish."
Aric met his gaze, undeterred. "And what do you call it?"
The Duke deliberately walked to the large wooden desk in the middle of the room. He raised a goblet of wine, took a slow sip and put it down. "Potential."
Aric raised an eyebrow. He hadn't expected that.
The Duke continued; his tone changed. "I have governed these lands for decades. I have seen a great men rise, a great men fall. Do you know what makes the strong different from the dead?"
Aric tilted his head. "Enlighten me."
The Duke's expression darkened further. "Loyalty."
Aric stayed silent, patient.
The Duke stepped forward, imposing his presence. "I've zero tolerance for men who are playing both sides. I know you've been talking to Isadora and Evelyne."
Aric smirked. "I'm flattered my social life is of such interest to you."
The Duke's eyes hardened with warning. "Boy, do not confuse my patience for mercy."
For the first time, Vaelis' authority bore down on the room.
Aric didn't flinch. He stared back at the Duke flatly, his smirk intact. "You're afraid of me."
Silence.
Then, the Duke released another soft chuckle. "Afraid? No. Wary? Yes."
He turned, walking back toward the window. "I do not waste resources, Aric. That's why you're still breathing."
Aric folded his arms. "And what will you do with this 'resource'?"
The Duke grew up simply and answered quickly.
"You are going to prove your loyalty."
The Duke returned to his desk and unrolled a sealed parchment.
"This," he said, rapping the parchment, "is an execution order. A noble house in the northern province has resisted my authority. They've colluded with outside forces and have the audacity to question my authority."
Aric arched a brow. "And you want me to take care of it?"
The Duke's mouth curled a little. "Consider it a test."
Aric propped himself up against the desk, eyeing the parchment. A mission of assassination. Not unusual among nobility, but it was more than that.
It was a test to see if they could control Aric.
A calculated move.
He met the Duke's gaze. "And if I refuse?"
The Duke smiled. It was an icy, treacherous thing. "Then I assume you'll have no place in my court. And men with no place in my court … tend to go missing."
A threat. A final warning.
Aric considered his options. He could acquiesce, demonstrating his utility—but at the price of obeying the Duke.
Or he could decline… and face becoming the next target.
Then again, a third thought entered his head.
An opportunity.
He smirked. "Fine. I'll take care of it."
The Duke nodded. "Good."
He handed Aric the parchment. "You leave at dawn."
That evening, Aric stood on the balcony of his guest quarters, gazing down at the parchment in his hands. The names of the condemned were inscribed in fine script.
A husband, a wife, their son.
Three people. A test of loyalty.
The Duke wished him to be his knife.
Aric had never been the obedient type, though.
A knock on his door broke him out of his reverie. He turned and opened it with no hesitation.
The candlelight only seemed to make her emerald eyes shine.
She entered without waiting for an invitation and shut the door.
"You're not really thinking of doing what the Duke asked, are you?"
Aric smirked. "And what if I am?"
She took a step closer, pressing a hand against his chest. "Then you're in error."
Her voice was low, almost threatening.
Aric studied her. "You knew about this."
Isadora smiled. "I know all that goes on in this castle."
She strode past, running a finger along his desk. "If you please the Duke, you'll amount to nothing but his pet."
Aric leaned against the wall. "And if I refuse?"
She turned, her gaze now glued to his. "Then you'll need my help."
A pause.
Aric smirked. "And what do you want in return?"
Isadora's lips slowly curled in a knowing smile.
"I think you already know."