Chapter 433: Cusp.

Two days had passed since Nero woke up in Lyon’s infirmary.

Two days of rest, of allowing his body to finish healing from injuries that should have killed him. Two days of avoiding questions he didn’t want to answer and processing the fact that he was now officially a Templar candidate. Two days of successfully not thinking too hard about what he’d consumed in the depths of that black lake.

But now he had obligations.

Arthur Koh had said he owed Nero a drink, and Lyon had been very clear about what ignoring that invitation would mean. So here Nero stood, outside the gates of the Koh family estate, wearing the cleanest clothes he owned and feeling profoundly out of place.

The estate was massive. Not palace-massive, but certainly large enough to make a statement about the family’s wealth and influence. Stone walls, iron gates, guards in livery who looked at Nero with the particular expression reserved for people who didn’t quite belong but had some legitimate reason to be there anyway.

One of the guards had gone inside to announce him. The other stood watching Nero with polite disinterest.

Nero waited.

The gate opened after a few minutes, and a servant appeared. Middle-aged woman, impeccably dressed, with the neutral expression of someone who dealt with unexpected guests regularly enough to have perfected the art of showing nothing.

“Master Nero?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Young Lord Arthur is expecting you. Please, follow me.”

Nero followed her through the gates and into the estate proper. The grounds were well-maintained, with gardens that showed the touch of professional care and pathways of clean stone. The main house rose ahead, three stories of carefully proportioned architecture that managed to be impressive without being ostentatious.

The servant led him inside, through a entrance hall that smelled of polished wood and money, down a corridor lined with portraits of stern-looking people who were probably Arthur’s ancestors, and finally to a sitting room where Arthur waited.

The young noble looked considerably better than the last time Nero had seen him. Clean, well-dressed, his broken leg apparently healed enough to walk on. He stood as Nero entered, a smile crossing his face.

“Nero! You actually came. I wasn’t sure you would.”

“Lyon convinced me it would be wise.”

Arthur’s smile widened. “I like that physician. Very practical man.” He gestured to a chair. “Please, sit. I had them bring wine, but if you’d prefer something else—”

“Wine is fine.”

Nero sat. The chair was more comfortable than anything he’d ever owned. Arthur poured two glasses from a bottle that probably cost more than Nero made in a month and handed one over.

“To surviving what we shouldn’t have,” Arthur said, raising his glass.

Nero raised his own and drank. The wine was good. Better than good. The kind of quality that made you understand why people with money spent money on things like this.

Arthur settled into the chair across from him, his expression turning more serious.

“I wanted to thank you properly. For what happened in those ruins. I don’t remember most of it, which frankly bothers me more than I’d like to admit, but Jacob and I both woke up alive, and from what we’ve been able to piece together, that’s largely because of you.”

“You vouched for me with the examiner,” Nero said. “We’re even.”

“Perhaps. But I prefer to be clear about debts.” Arthur took another drink. “I also wanted to talk to you about what comes next.”

“Next?”

“The trials are over. We passed. But that just means we’re Templar candidates now, not actual Templars. There’s training, assignments, politics.” He paused. “You’re low born, which means you’re going to face certain… challenges that someone like me won’t.”

Nero said nothing, just waited.

“I’m not offering charity,” Arthur continued. “But I am offering association. People know my family. If it becomes known that we’re on good terms, that we worked together in the trials and I consider you reliable, it makes certain things easier for you. And frankly, having someone competent who isn’t trying to use me for social advancement is valuable to me.”

“What exactly are you proposing?”

“Nothing formal. Just… we stay in contact. We work together when it makes sense. We drink occasionally and let people see us doing it.” Arthur’s smile returned, slightly self-deprecating. “I’m aware how calculated that sounds, but this is the world we live in. Might as well navigate it intelligently.”

Nero considered this. It was calculating. It was also sensible. Arthur was offering him something valuable, social capital that Nero had no other way to acquire, and in return Arthur got someone who owed him but wasn’t beholden to his family in the complicated ways other nobles would be.

“Alright,” Nero said.

“Good.” Arthur refilled both their glasses. “Now, tell me something. That creature you killed. The one in the lake. What was it actually like?”

Nero thought about the thing he’d devoured. About its impossible size, its constructed nature, the way it had slumbered for who knew how long before he’d disturbed it.

“Large,” he said finally. “Very large. And old. Older than anything I’ve seen before.”

“And you killed it with a dagger.”

“I got lucky.”

Arthur laughed. “I don’t believe that for a second, but I’ll let you keep your secrets.” He leaned back in his chair. “Jacob’s been asking about you, by the way. Wants to know if you’re actually human or if you’re hiding something. I told him everyone’s hiding something and it’s impolite to ask.”

“Wise advice.”

“I thought so.” Arthur’s expression turned thoughtful. “He’s a good man, Jacob. Pragmatic, loyal once he decides you’re worth it. His family’s not noble, but they have connections in the merchant quarters. Could be useful to know him.”

They drank in companionable silence for a moment.

“There’s going to be a feast,” Arthur said eventually. “My father’s hosting it. Celebration of his son passing the trials, that sort of thing. You should come.”

“I’m not sure that’s—”

“Appropriate? Probably not by traditional standards. But I’m inviting you anyway. You saved my life, Nero. The least I can do is make sure people know it.”

Nero looked at Arthur for a long moment. The young noble met his gaze steadily, and Nero saw something there that went beyond simple social maneuvering. Genuine gratitude, maybe. Or at least genuine respect.

“I’ll think about it,” Nero said.

“Fair enough.” Arthur raised his glass again. “To new associations.”

“To new associations,” Nero echoed.

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