Part 2
Callen led Elyandra down a hallway adorned with dark tapestries and solemn portraits, until they reached a carved solid wood door. With a gentle click, he turned the handle and locked it as soon as they both entered the room.
The room was bathed in a soft light that came in through a tall window with partially closed ebony velvet curtains. The walls were lined with dark wood paneling, and the environment exuded an atmosphere of privacy and discretion. In the center, a richly patterned carpet covered the floor, and two sumptuous sofas, upholstered in a pale gold-colored fabric, were arranged on opposite sides of a polished dark-wood coffee table, on which rested a few books and a vase of silent flowers.
Elyandra observed the layout of the room with her usual attention to detail, before moving with grace and sitting on one of the sofas, maintaining an upright and elegant posture. The silence that followed was charged with tacit expectation.
Finally, Elyandra broke the silence, her soft, inquisitive voice echoing in the room.
"Lord Callen, you have requested this conversation alone. What brought you to ask me to come here?
Callen, who had been standing near the door until then, moved slowly and sat down on the couch opposite Elyandra's. His usual mask of coldness and reserve seemed to dissipate a little, replaced by a calmer and more direct expression, the tone of his voice returning to that discreet familiarity he showed only in the presence of Elyandra.
He stared at her for a moment, his dark eyes fixed on hers, before formulating his own question.
"Lady Elyandra, during our previous brief conversation and while watching you in the library, I noticed a... intensity in his eyes, a curiosity that went beyond superficial study. I would like to know... What is your goal currently?
Elyandra's golden eyes met Callen's, her expression carrying an unusual seriousness for her age. She hesitated for a brief moment, assessing the sincerity behind the noble Leonhart's question. He then decided that strategic honesty might be the best approach to unravel it.
"My goal, Lord Callen," Elyandra began, her firm, clear voice echoing in the silent room, "is something that bothers me deeply. The policy of buying people with the Ancient Blood... To me, it's an abomination. From my perspective... real... it is something archaic and cruel that should have been abolished long ago.
She paused, watching Callen's reaction.
"I clearly understood the Marquis's intentions. First, the suggestion of a union with Lord Arcturus, an attempt at affiliation. After... the mention of the law of the Crown, the possibility of buying me as if I were an object of value. That disgusts me.
In his thoughts, Elyandra's indignation overflowed, exposing the rawness of that world. "In this place... to be born with the Ancient Blood is to be marked. The black earring in the ear is not the worst humiliation. The real affront is knowing that your very existence has a price, that any influential nobleman can acquire from you as if you were a rare collector's item. The purer the blood, the higher the value. You become a trophy, a symbol of power."
"The only protection against this abject fate is to belong to a family powerful enough to deter any buyer. I am grateful to be a Valemortis. But how many plebeian children, how many adults like my own mother, change hands like commodities, bought and sold like cattle because of this blood that runs through their veins?"
The bitterness was palpable in his thoughts, contrasting with the composure of his posture. She turned her gaze to Callen, hoping that his words had provoked some reaction, some opening in her façade.
Callen's gaze intensified, her usual coldness replaced by a grim seriousness that indicated a deep understanding of what Elyandra had just exposed. He seemed to carry the weight of injustice on his own shoulders.
Elyandra, encouraged by his reaction, continued, her voice carrying a growing determination.
"Being a Valemortis protected me from a fate that, in my studies of the history of this world, I have found to be infinitely worse than being treated like cattle. The stories of those of Ancient Blood who fall into the wrong hands... they are horrifying. And that's why, Lord Callen—his voice was now firm, almost an oath—that somehow, I plan to change that. I will use the influence of my House, my own growing power, to fight against this barbarism.
A brief silence hung between them before Callen finally broke his silence, his voice low and pondered.
"I understand, Lady Elyandra. Your indignation is... justifiable. But I wonder... with the purity of her blood and the devotion that many show to the Ancient Blood, why not follow the path of the Saint? His divine influence could be immense, perhaps even greater than any secular power.
Callen's suggestion found no echo in Elyandra's countenance. His golden eyes narrowed slightly, and a trace of disinterest crossed his features.
"Follow the path of the Saint... it is something I do not yet know if I desire, Lord Callen. The divine influence is powerful, no doubt, but also... Restrictive. There are other ways of exercising power, ways that maybe allow me to change more... Direct.
Callen let out a long sigh, a sound that carried a weight of resignation and, perhaps, a hint of relief. A faint smile, barely perceptible, curled his lips.
"I see, Lady Elyandra. Your ambition is... palpable. And perhaps, more effective than faith.
He leaned back on the couch, his eyes fixed on a distant spot on the wall, as if reliving old memories. The air in the room seemed to thicken under the weight of her story, the cold mask finally breaking to reveal the vulnerability behind it.
"My story... is not the most glorious, Lady Elyandra. I was born in House Leonhart, in the Leonine Empire, as third in the line of succession. Our home was prosperous, known for the production of a unique magical salt, highly valued throughout the continent. Our influence, although less than that of the Leonine Crown, was significant.
He paused briefly, a trace of bitterness crossing his lips.
"But politics, as you well know, is a cruel game. The Leonine Royal House, always thirsty for more power, began to covet our monopoly of magic salt. False accusations of treason, political maneuvering... Before long, our house found itself isolated, our allies drifting away like leaves in the wind.
His voice became lower, charged with an old pain.
"My father tried to resist, but he was murdered under false pretenses. My brothers... well. I was too young to fight, to fully understand the extent of the betrayal. I was held hostage, a "guest" of the Crown, while our property was gradually confiscated.
Callen looked away, as if the memory was unbearable.
"The Marquis de Sorell... he had business ties to House Leonhart. He saw an opportunity in my situation. An heir to a weakened house, with the potential to be restored... or used as a bargaining chip. He negotiated my "liberation" from the Leonine Crown, in exchange for extremely favorable commercial concessions.
He turned his eyes to Elyandra, his expression now charged with bitter cynicism.
"And so, Lady Elyandra, I have become a pawn in other people's game. A symbol of an ancient alliance, a guarantee for future trade agreements between Sorell and Leonhart... if one day I regain my birthright. Or, as you astutely noted, a bargaining chip, a shield, maybe even a bomb waiting to explode in the right hands.
The weight of his words hung in the room, revealing the complex web of power and manipulation that had brought him there. Their story was a testament to the cruelty of noble politics, an echo of Elyandra's own reflections on the injustice of the world in which they lived.
Elyandra listened to Callen's story with dark attention, her mind processing the political implications and injustices suffered by the young nobleman. After a brief moment of silence, she spoke, her voice carrying a hint of cautious hope, grounded in her own research.
"Lord Callen, when I discovered your surname, and out of curiosity investigated House Leonhart, I came across information of political intrigues started by your own brothers, if the story I read is accurate." They would currently be in the custody of the Leonine Crown. And, if my understanding is correct, the former Emperor passed away a few weeks after the outbreak of these internal disputes. The current Emperor, as I mentioned, has a reputation for honor and justice. Given this new dynamic, with the death of the former regent and his brothers imprisoned for their actions, there would not be a chance for the new Emperor to reassess the situation of House Leonhart with a more than a different perspective. impartial?
Callen kept his gaze fixed on Elyandra's, his expression serious and analytical, without any trace of self-pity.
"Lady Elyandra, your diligence in researching past events is... remarkable. The information you have found about the actions of my brothers and the subsequent death of the Emperor is, in fact, accurate. However, his inference about a possible intervention by the current Emperor lacks a deeper understanding of the complex web of power. Even with the new regent's reputation for justice, the political reality is unforgiving. At the moment, I am a strategic asset in the hands of the Marquis de Sorell. My "release" was a win-win trade deal for him, and he won't give up that advantage easily. The interests of House Sorell, in this context, override any consideration of justice towards House Leonhart. My position as... tenant, as I said before, puts me at a significant disadvantage to plead for any revision by the Leonine Empire. The Marquis holds the influence and ties necessary to maintain the status quo, and it is to him that my destinies are, for now, tied.
A tense silence settled between the two young men, loaded with the implications of the words exchanged. In Elyandra's mind, a silent exclamation echoed with intensity. "That was it! Exactly that! A character with a complex history, caught in a web of intrigue. The potential... it's immense!"
On the outside, his expression remained serious and calculating.
"Lord Callen," Elyandra said, her voice firm and direct, "we both find ourselves in a pragmatic situation. I have a clear goal in this life, an ambition that I intend to achieve with determination. However, I still can't discern what its goal is. What's your game, Lord Callen? What do you really want?
Callen remained silent for a prolonged moment, his dark eyes fixed on Elyandra's, assessing the sincerity and depth of her words.
Finally, Elyandra broke the silence again, her voice now carrying a calculated promise.
"I will become influential, Lord Callen. More influential than many imagine. And when I have the power, I will have the ability to help you change your situation. But understand one thing," she emphasized, her gaze piercing, "this is a two-way road. There is no gift without interest, especially at the point where I am. There is no room for blind charity in my plans. If I reach out to you, there will be a cost, an expectation of return.
Callen watched her intently, her expression complacent, denoting a clear understanding of the message implied in Elyandra's words. He noticed the absence of any naïve altruism, acknowledging the transactional nature of the offer.
"Then, Lord Callen," Elyandra went on, her voice now pragmatic and direct, "be objective. How can Callen Leonhart help Elyandra Valemortis achieve her goals? What can you offer in exchange for the influence I intend to acquire? Be specific. What are your talents, your connections, your information that would be valuable to me?
Callen kept his gaze fixed on Elyandra's, his mind working as quickly and accurately as hers. The offer was clear, and the brutal honesty of the young Valemortis was, in a way, refreshing. He pondered for a moment, considering his assets and his delicate position.
"Lady Elyandra," Callen began, his voice calm and measured, a faint strategic glint appearing in his eyes, "my current situation, as we have already discussed, is precarious. I am a nobleman stripped of his heritage, held hostage under the roof of a mighty house. However, this same position grants me certain perspectives and information that can be valuable.
He paused briefly, assessing Elyandra's reaction.
"I have intimate knowledge of the political dynamics of the Leonine Empire, the rivalries between the noble houses and the ambitions of the Crown. I can offer insights into the weaknesses and strengths of my former allies and enemies. This information can be useful if your goals involve diplomatic relations or long-range strategies that extend beyond the borders of this Empire.
Callen continued, his voice taking on a more confident tone.
"Also, despite my situation, I still possess discreet connections to some loyal members of House Leonhart who may be mobilized to gather information or influence certain events, although this requires caution and meticulous planning.
He tilted his head slightly.
"And finally, Lady Elyandra, do not underestimate the value of an individual who understands the sense of injustice and the search for restoration. My motivation to see a change in the status quo is as strong as yours. I can offer loyalty and discretion, acting as your eyes and ears in circles where your presence could arouse suspicion. I can be a reliable ally, willing to perform delicate tasks and protect your interests in the shadows.
Callen concluded, his gaze meeting Elyandra's with a quiet intensity:
"In short, Lady Elyandra, I offer strategic knowledge about a foreign empire, discreet connections, and a loyalty forged in adversity. My help may not be immediate or ostentatious, but it can be subtle, long-lasting, and, over time, extremely valuable.
Elyandra kept her gaze fixed on Callen, her outward expression conveying a serene and calculated confidence. A faint smile, almost imperceptible, curled his lips, denoting a restrained satisfaction with the proposal of the nobleman Leonhart.
Yet inside, his mind was buzzing with a mixture of surprise and caution. "My God... the complexity of his answer... He really understands the game. The connections, the strategic knowledge... It's a lot more than I expected from someone in his position. I suspect... Could it be possible that he was too... a reincarnated one? This understanding of power dynamics, this strategic vision... It's unusual for someone of his age and circumstances."
She continued her mental analysis, a veil of distrust hanging over her enthusiasm. "To what extent is he being sincere? What are their true motivations? He may be withholding information, manipulating me for his own ends. I need to be cautious. But... that twinkle in his eyes... the determination in his voice... That sounds genuine. There's a spark there, an ambition that resonates with mine."
A wider smile, charged with a dark excitement, began to form on her lips, her golden eyes twinkling with an almost predatory intensity. "It doesn't matter. Truth or lie, piece or player... It is a valuable asset. And the web I'm weaving... the long, intricate lines of my trap... are finally starting to bear fruit."
Elyandra rose from the couch with a grace that belied the whirlwind of thoughts in her mind. Callen imitated her, rising to his feet with an equally noble composure, and the two stood face to face, the tension in the room palpable.
Staring at Callen with unwavering determination, her golden eyes now radiating an almost heavenly glow, Elyandra declared in a clear, steady voice:
"Callen Leonhart, at this moment, Elyandra Valemortis enters into an alliance contract with you.
She held out her delicate hand, palm turned up in an agreed gesture. Callen watched the outstretched hand for a moment, and then, to Elyandra's complete surprise, he said, his voice charged with an unexpected resolution:
"No, Lady Elyandra. It will not be an alliance.
Surprise flashed across Elyandra's face, her eyes widening slightly, her composure for a brief moment broken. Before she could utter a word, Callen knelt before her, his posture humble but his eyes fixed on hers with an unwavering intensity.
"Lady Elyandra," he said, his voice now imbued with a deep conviction, "I recognize the strength of your determination, the clarity of your aims. In this way, I swear to do everything in my power to nurture your expectations, to help you achieve your dreams.
He took Elyandra's outstretched hand, holding it with a firmness that resembled more an oath than a handshake. Their gazes met, and Callen continued, his voice charged with promise:
"I will do everything in my power to make you realize your ambitions, Lady Elyandra. And in return... I hope that when it reaches its peak, it will remember the two-lane road you mentioned and help me make my own way back.
With Elyandra's hand still among his, Callen had declared not an alliance of equals, but a willing submission, a recognition of the strength and potential of the young Valemortis, sealing a pact that went beyond a simple strategic agreement.
In Elyandra's mind, an overwhelming ecstasy danced like flames, coursing through every fiber of her being. A wave of excitement so intense ran through her that her legs almost wobbled under the weight of realization. "Yes... yes! That's it! Raw power and unbridled ambition bowing before my vision! He understood... he submitted!"
With a smile that barely contained the euphoria that consumed her inside, Elyandra shook Callen's hand, sealing the pact in that silent instant. That squeeze wasn't just a deal, it was the coming together of two forces, one on a meteoric rise and the other desperately seeking a path to redemption.
At that moment, Elyandra Valemortis transcended the mere appearance of a docile and friendly little girl. She became the embodiment of an unsettling duality: angelic innocence masking a cold and implacable ambition, apparent holiness concealing the deepest corruption that this world could conceive. It was light and shadow dancing in her golden eyes, a promise of power and manipulation, a future woven in secrets and intrigues. Callen, kneeling at his feet, could not glimpse the expanse of darkness that lurked beneath that angelic countenance. He saw only the unwavering determination, the magnetic force that drew him into its orbit.
Callen Leonhart, on the other hand, embodied a dogged determination that wandered aimlessly until that moment. His story of betrayal and loss had left him adrift, desperately searching for a purpose, a foothold in a sea of uncertainty. In Elyandra's eyes, he had found not only an opportunity for redemption, but also a beacon for his own latent ambition. Her submission was not one of weakness but of strategic recognition, the realization that her rise was now intrinsically linked to that of that extraordinary girl.
Thus, in that secluded room of the Sorll mansion, under the silent gaze of the ancestral portraits, a dark pact was sealed. A girl with the ambition of a crowned tyrant and a dispossessed nobleman seeking his restoration have united their fates, marking the beginning of a dangerous new phase in their power plays.