Kai stepped into the banquet hall and everything in the air shifted. Every eye turned towards him within seconds and in the span of a breath, the high of conversations dulled to murmurs, then faded altogether. Soon, it was replaced by glances and whispers that rippled through the crowd, like a restless tide.

Talking to the two women had taken far longer than planned. He took a glance around the room, and half the seats were already filled. There were nobles everywhere. The sheer amount of silks and embroidered shiny materials of their clothes were enough to blind someone. Yet even with the amount of people, it hadn’t taken an announcement for them to know who he was.

Recognition bloomed almost instantly, and the heaviness settled on his shoulders.

Francis and Killian flanked him as he walked further in. From the far side of the hall, Duke William Blackwood broke away from a group of nobles. His thick black beard had more stripes of white than the last time he’d seen him.

William Blackwood closed the distance with the sure stride of a man who owned the ground he walked on, placing a hand firmly on Kai’s shoulder and fixing him with a steady gaze.

“I expected you to be here a while back.”

“It took time with the two,” Kai replied evenly.

Something flickered in the Duke’s eyes—understanding. “And what came out of it?”

“I believe it will work out,” Kai said with certainty. But at the back of his mind, he wasn’t so sure anymore. With how the two women were, it could go either way. So he said what he knew for sure: “We’ll know soon.”

William gave a short nod.

Kai let his gaze wander over the crowd, studying the faces one by one, recalling the descriptions that Francis had given him earlier. Some matched perfectly—the sharp-jawed Marquis with a habit of glancing at the exits, the rotund Viscount who laughed too loudly—others he still had to guess at. “It seems quite a lot of people are here already.”

“All of them have probably asked about you twice by now,” Leopold said, his lips twitching with faint amusement.

“Then I believe it’s best to not keep them waiting,” Kai answered.

Duke Blackwood’s hand pressed briefly into his shoulder before withdrawing. “Make sure you act like a ruler,” he said quietly, his voice carrying the weight of command. “People will only follow you then. If you slip even once, they’ll see weakness. We can’t afford that.”

Kai gave a small nod to the Duke’s words—he knew them well—and stepped forward, each footfall drawing him deeper into the heart of the hall.

If before the nobles’ attention had been a scattering of glances, now it gathered, sharp and unblinking, every gaze fixed on him. The silence held for a beat too long, until Kai let a warm, sincere smile spread across his face.

“Everyone,” he began, his voice carrying easily beneath the chandelier light. He didn’t even need to ask for everyone’s attention, “first of all, I would like to thank you for being here, and to Duke William Blackwood for arranging this on my behalf.”

He let his eyes sweep across the room, meeting gazes rather than skimming over them. “I don’t need to explain to any of you why this banquet is held, but I hope that despite everything happening in the kingdom, you will still enjoy it.”

A pause—just enough to let the words settle—then, with a faint curve of his lips, “I won’t take much time with a speech now. Please, have fun tonight.”

A handful of nobles raised their glasses toward him, crystal catching the lamplight in brief flashes, a glittering acknowledgment of his presence. The tight coil in the air loosened, replaced by the softer hum of resumed conversation, like a hall taking a collective breath.

But that reprieve was fleeting.

Within moments, nobles began breaking from their tables in neat, purposeful clusters. They converged on him like eager ants to a morsel, their silks whispering as they closed the gap, no one slowing until they stood directly before him.

The first to arrive was a group of eastern Viscounts, their expressions polite but their eyes keen. They wasted no time on pleasantries, no exchange of courtesies, no idle remarks to warm the air.

They danced around certain topics with deliberate omission. The fief war, for example, was absent from their tongues, probably assuming it was a sensitive topic to Kai. The plague, however… that was another matter entirely.

Rumors of its eradication had already taken root in the capital, growing feverishly since his arrival. Kai didn’t mind the immediate attention; however, he didn’t appreciate when faces literally leaned toward him.

One lanky noble with a narrow, hawkish face stepped forward, claiming the lead without needing to be granted it. ʀᴇᴀᴅ ʟᴀᴛᴇsᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀᴛ Novᴇ(l)Fɪre .ɴᴇt

“Is it true,” Viscount Alburn began, voice pitched low yet thrumming with interest, “that you encountered those demonic weavers there? The Church has already begun sermons claiming their aid in ceasing the plague… and you are being mentioned a great deal in those accounts.”

Kai took a measured breath and smiled, letting the pause sit long enough to turn attention into silence. This wasn’t merely a question about the plague. It was a probe into his standing with the Church of Lumaris, especially in front of the eastern lords whose faith and politics were intertwined.

“Bishop Maurice was gracious enough to accompany me,” he said at last. “Along with the Clerics and the Paladins. It was a difficult journey, but by the grace of Goddess Lumaris, we were able to cleanse the land of filth.”

The effect was immediate—smiles flickered across a few faces, shoulders eased as if some unspoken measure had been met.

“Good to hear,” Viscount Alburn replied, inclining his head slightly. “If you have time after the assembly, I would love to bring you to Archbishop Ormund Valcier’s sermon. I believe a meeting between you two is something the Goddess would approve of.”

“I would like that, Viscount Alburn.” Kai let a small, sincere smile show. “May Goddess Lumaris shine her light on all of us.”

“May the Goddess shine her light on all of us,” several nobles echoed, though Kai doubted she was shining much on him tonight.

What followed was the tide—more nobles, drifting in and out of earshot, listening to one conversation and cutting in on the next. Like he’d been taught, he met every approach head-on and by name, even the minor ones. A name, a held gaze, a measured answer; then a clean handoff to the next.

One of them, Baron Lionel Marcaster pressed forward through the thinning gap in the crowd, eyes alight with an enthusiasm that bordered on hunger. He launched into talk of Mage circles and how he had heard of Kai’s unique ways, leaning so heavily on the last word it was almost a prod, as though persistence might pry something loose from Kai then and there.

Kai’s reply was cool, unhurried and exactly what he’d prepared. “I have my own methods, derivations from my mother’s work. But I can invite you to one of my classes at the Sorcerer’s Tower located in Veralt. You’ll see enough there to satisfy curiosity.”

A ripple of polite approval circled their little knot of listeners. It was the sort of answer that gave nothing away yet left the other party feeling as though they’d been granted something. Promises without concessions. Access without the keys.

But the reprieve was short-lived. The moment Baron Marcaster stepped back, another cluster took his place. The tide of nobles showed no signs of slowing.

The mention of his teaching drew more than casual interest. In this hall, most nobles were Mages themselves or had bloodlines tangled with magical talent, and the idea of their kin learning under a rising Fourth Circle Mage was irresistible. They leaned forward, questions tumbling over one another, their eagerness poorly hidden behind the thin veil of etiquette.

Requests came quickly—sons, daughters, nieces, nephews—each one described in glowing terms as “promising,” “gifted,” or “born for magic,” all in need of the right mentor.

Ever since the plague’s extermination, word of his advancement to the fourth circle had spread like wildfire. Apprentice requests would only multiply from here.

A few nobles were bolder still, asking outright to become his apprentices themselves, their eyes gleaming with the same ambition they had accused their children of possessing.

Kai answered each with the same polished refrain—he would think about it. And in every exchange, he found a way to offer a tailored compliment—acknowledging a minor achievement, recalling a name mentioned in passing, or noting some small detail from their past exploits. Faces brightened under his attention. People liked being remembered; they liked to feel their worth had been noticed. Kai made full use of that truth.

Beyond the apprenticeships, and the inevitable questions about the plague, came another topic—one Francis had warned him about.

Marriage.

He was now a Count, of a Duke’s bloodline, a Fourth Circle Mage, and yet… unmarried. In this kingdom, it was an opportunity. One that more than a few families wanted to seize.

When he politely said he wasn’t ready, that he would give the matter thought after the assembly, the subtler ones tested his reaction with remarks about the rumors surrounding Princess Amara. Those, he brushed off with a shrug so casual it might have been rehearsed.

No one dared to probe though, thankfully they knew it was way beyond their boundaries.

Through it all, Duke Blackwood and Leopold stood just behind him. They answered a handful of questions, but their role was clear. The Duke wasn’t here to assist. If anything, it looked like he was judging every word that came out of his mouth.

Kai hadn’t forgotten their talk back in Blackwood territory. And if the night unfolded as he intended, perhaps the Duke would see him in a different light.

Because even Kai had to admit, he was handling everything far better than he’d expected.

He kept an extremely careful balance. He reassured the nobles who’d already agreed to vote in his favor while still giving genuine attention to those who were still on the fence. And by the end of the first hour, it was clear that the atmosphere had gotten better. Many of the nobles expressed satisfaction; some by words, and some by sending approval gazes and nods his way.

It was only his second banquet, yet the undercurrent was shifting. The lesser nobles—often overlooked in larger political games—seemed to warm to him quickest. Once they were satisfied with his answers, they drifted away, speaking to each other instead of clinging to his side. The hall swelled again with conversation, a sign that the event was going better than many had anticipated.

Midway through, he caught sight of Viscountess Vaessa and Baroness Marren entering. Both looked like they were contemplating, and both of them found his gaze more than one. But they never moved toward each other.

Kai filed that away. If they had an answer for him, he would get it before the night was done.

Even with the opening handled well, there was no respite. Kai moved from table to table, refusing to let the banquet come to him—he went to it. He asked about the nobles themselves, steering the focus away from his own affairs. It made him more likable, yes, but it also served another purpose: learning exactly what each of them brought to the table.

For them, this was an evening of pleasantries. For him, it was reconnaissance.

He was making his way toward another cluster of seats when he noticed a noble breaking away from the crowd, heading straight for him.

He paused mid-step, eyes narrowing just slightly as he scanned the burly old man’s face. Recognition came quickly.

If his memory was right, this was Count Pherrin Blackbough, one of the higher-ranking nobles present, and not a man they had approached for a vote. He was on the short list of guests invited solely because Duke Blackwood needed to maintain certain relationships.

Most nobles in that category hadn’t even bothered to show up—likely at the Princes’ quiet urging. Yet this man had come. And now he stood before Kai, looking him over as if analysing a weapon rather than a person.

“That was quite a showcase, Count Arzan,” the man said at last. “You honestly impressed me.”

Kai inclined his head politely. “Thank you for your praise, Count Blackbough. I would have greeted you earlier had I seen you.”

“I was in the back,” the old man replied. “I wanted to observe.” His thin lips curled faintly. “And I think you did better than I expected.”

Kai raised an eyebrow at the tone. “You speak as if this is a test.”

“Everything is a test, Count Arzan. And frankly yes. I was sent by the Second Prince, Aldrin, to evaluate you.”

Kai already knew of the man’s allegiance to Aldrin. But was he really trying to poach him now? The Princes had kept their distance so far, no doubt expecting him to make the first move. It seemed the Second Prince had grown impatient.

“I believe,” Kai said evenly, “if I wanted to bow before Prince Aldrin, I would have done so already. It’s quite late for that now.”

“I don’t think it’s ever too late,” the Count replied smoothly. “And Prince Aldrin is gracious enough to save you from the assembly’s verdict… if you decide to do the right thing.”

“I believe I’m already doing that,” Kai said, letting his gaze drift briefly across the hall.

The older man shook his head, rubbing his round belly in circles. “You’re placing your eggs in the wrong basket, Count Arzan. Why do you think the Princes have done nothing, even while you poach these useless Barons and Viscounts? It’s because they don’t care. Lower nobles like these can’t be trusted. Come the day of the assembly, they’ll do exactly as the Princes command. You and they can’t be compared, Count Arzan. Even you know that.”

“That’s why you’re here,” Kai said and cleared his throat. “To give me a way out.”

“Yes,” the Count replied without hesitation. His gray eyes looked behind Kai. “I know you’re relying on Duke Blackwood. Frankly, I don’t even know why you have his support. That man is moody at best, and he’s nowhere near as popular as Prince Aldrin. But if you simply gave your allegiance, you wouldn’t have to hold these banquets. You could relax. Get it over with. Prince Aldrin would love to have a Mage like you beside him, and as a noble, there’s no greater honour.”

Kai held back a frown. The man spoke of Prince Aldrin as though he’d been touched by the gods themselves. And even if that were true, Kai had no reason to accept. If he’d wanted to, he would have done so months ago.

“I have no interest in that, Count Blackbough,” he said finally. “I hope you enjoy the party.”

Count Blackbough’s expression sank. “You shouldn’t make such quick decisions. A good noble is a patient one. You should hear me out.”

“I don’t think anything you say will convince me.”

A shadow passed through the old man’s eyes, almost a glare, but before he could speak again, a ripple of sound cut between them.

The hall’s hum shifted. Whispers rose from every table, quick and sharp, darting through the air like startled birds.

Kai frowned, trying to see past the man’s solid frame.

The Count turned, his expression falling further.

Kai followed his gaze, and then his own face twisted in confusion.

Standing at the entrance was someone he had not expected to see. Someone uninvited and wrapped in fur, stealing everyone’s attention with a simple curve of her lips.

Veridia.

She stepped forward as if she belonged there, the murmurs growing louder with every footfall. Her eyes locked with his, and her lips curved further.

***

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