Chapter 271: Trespass

Lady Cirila had so many words she wanted to say.

Unfortunately, most of them would have started with, “What kind of bollocks are you spouting now,” and that alone forced the draconic lady to take a very deliberate breath.

She couldn’t afford to lose her temper.

Not now. Not when her obvious agitation might very well give away the fact that there were others inside that room.

Who knew what kind of unfortunate scenario this was. Nearly everyone at the estate had been instructed to pull back for the sake of the learners. Everyone except Lawrence, who was human and largely mana-neutral. The natural density of mana within the estate was already more than enough to overwhelm beginners. Adding extra traces on top of that would only sabotage the exercise entirely.

Thankfully, clearing the area had been relatively easy.

Kael and Karion, the most curious offenders who liked to check everything for themselves, had conveniently left the estate just before the hide-and-seek began. That left only her and Renee lingering at a distance, patiently waiting for the hunt to conclude.

Then the shriek tore through the estate and everything went to hell.

It was loud. Violent. And laden with an uncontrolled burst of mana that had her reacting instantly.

She was already moving when she barked at Renee, “Don’t follow me. Instead, notify Kael and Karion immediately.”

Renee froze.

“If I don’t send communication after five minutes,” Lady Cirila continued without slowing, “Run out with Lawrence.”

There was no room for argument. They couldn’t risk anyone stumbling onto Renee’s identity just yet, not under circumstances like this when they definitely needed the secrecy for Riley’s sake.

But then her dash turned into a teleport.

It had been a dangerous decision. For all she knew, a trap could have been waiting for her the moment she arrived. But Cirila could not spare the thought. Not when she knew she would never forgive herself if she arrived late again.

Because out of nowhere, she felt a probing pressure against her ward.

Testing.

Her eyes flashed gold.

Insolence!

That alone would have warranted consequences, but the sight that greeted her upon arrival nearly pushed her restraint to its limits.

Malrik Veyth.

Of course it was him.

The Chancellor stood inside the estate as if he belonged there, posture calm, presence deliberate, eyes already assessing the space with far too much familiarity.

And beside him was the source of the shriek.

Ysvara Lorcrest.

The elder was clutching herself, voice raw as she screamed, mana lashing out in uncontrolled waves as if this were not a dragon estate but some unguarded public hall.

Lady Cirila’s jaw tightened.

And her eyes especially flashed when he said, “She claims that Elder Zephyros is dead.”

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Sometimes Cirila wondered where the Chancellor found the audacity.

Then she remembered that there had been a time when she didn’t think so poorly of him. Back when he was merely another political creature of the nest. Back when he encouraged alliances and compromises and smiled through his teeth as he praised all those dragonlings.

Even when he had encouraged others to pressure her son into mating with a manipulative dragonling, she had still written it off as politics. Ugly, but within the realm of expectation.

But the way he had treated Orien’s disappearance. The way he had handled the child’s birthday, where they all witnessed those indoctrinated dragonlings going crazy.

Those couldn’t just be political missteps. Those had to be the products of deliberate and prolonged choices.

Only an idiot would still give him the benefit of the doubt after that.

And Cirila wasn’t an idiot.

So when she demanded an explanation, and the Chancellor chose not to address the claim directly, her patience thinned to a razor edge.

“My lady,” Malrik said smoothly, bowing his head just enough to appear respectful, “please forgive our sudden arrival and our lack of decorum. But would it not be best for us to enter first while we wait for the Dragon Lord?”

“I don’t believe it would be advisable for Lady Ysvara to remain outside in her current state. And surely you wouldn’t wish to discuss such a sensitive matter outside in the open.”

His tone was gentle. Concerned. Carefully calibrated.

Once, it might have worked.

This time, Cirila’s eyes hardened.

“I don’t believe this can be considered outside,” she said coolly, “given that we’re well inside the restricted area of the estate. Which means I would very much like an explanation for how you managed to enter in the first place.”

She took a step forward, positioning herself just slightly between them and the open doors.

“Moreover, entering the Dragon Lord’s office is not a decision for us to make,” she continued. “I suggest you follow me to the great hall instead. You are familiar with the Dragon Lord’s stance on his residence and personal space, are you not?”

Her voice was steady. Stern. Unyielding.

She needed them away from this area. As far away as possible.

If the matter of Zephyros was true, it would be explosive. But it would still pale in comparison to what would happen if Riley were discovered. Especially by elders who had not yet proven themselves trustworthy.

Malrik hesitated.

Then he sighed, as if burdened by circumstances beyond his control.

“I see,” he said. “I understand. And I truly apologize. I didn’t expect matters to escalate to the point of forcing entry like this.”

He spread his hands in a gesture of helplessness.

“As you know, I am not permitted to leave the nest freely,” he continued. “But I didn’t have much of a choice when the attendants reported spotting Lady Ysvara in such a state.”

Ysvara’s frazzled movements punctuated his words, unhinged and frankly, disturbing.

“It would have been alarming to the others,” Malrik went on. “Especially to the dragonlings. But as an elder, I recognized the signs. As you know, she has experienced premonitions before.”

Cirila said nothing.

“And as for how we arrived here,” Malrik added, raising one hand slightly, “you’re aware that Lady Ysvara was given an artifact for situations that could be deemed… emergencies.”

His gaze flicked briefly toward the estate.

“We passed through the front gates properly. Unfortunately, we didn’t encounter anyone upon arrival. So I assumed we would just wait for the Dragon Lord in his office, from what I have heard he has been more diligent in returning to the estate recently.”

That assumption, as well as the implication, made Cirila’s jaw tighten but she held it all together.

Then Malrik finished, almost casually.

“With the need to verify the situation regarding Elder Zephyros, we would have had to return here regardless, anyway.”

He gestured faintly toward Ysvara.

“So I believe it would be kinder not to force a clearly distressed elder to wander the estate. Maybe it would be best to wait here?”

Cirila did not respond at once. Thankfully, she didn’t have to.

For just as she hoped, seething golden dragons had arrived.

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Riley could have sworn he was fine just seconds ago.

He was tense, yes. And also on the verge of passing out, sure. He was crouched too low beneath the desk. Holding his breath. Keeping Orien and Liam tucked close against his chest while listening to voices he very much did not want to be hearing.

But he was fine. He was even holding it all in. And if anyone would have been able to see Riley other than two similarly fearful children then they would have been able to tell him that he was currently doing a splendid job containing his mana and presence.

Apparently fear was such a good motivator for him.

So really, in that respect, he’d been fine.

Well, at least until something tore through his senses.

It wasn’t a sound.

Nor was it a smell.

No, instead, it was pressure. Debilitating pressure like no other.

A presence, no, two.

Two presences slammed into the same space so abruptly that Riley, who had been keeping it together, nearly gasped. The air seemed to tighten. His skin prickled from scalp to spine. Every instinct he had screamed at once, with fear and with the sharp certainty of imminent violence.

That was killing intent.

The kind that didn’t need to announce itself because everything nearby already knew to cower.

Riley’s earlier fear of being discovered vanished in an instant, replaced by something far more visceral. His heart hammered so hard he worried it could be heard. His mana recoiled instinctively, curling inward as if trying to hide.

Orien stiffened in his arms.

Liam made a small, frightened tremble before Riley tightened his hold, one hand coming up to cradle the back of the child’s head as if that could shield him from the weight pressing down on them.

Then a voice cut through it.

Low.

Vicious.

Furious.

Riley recognized it immediately.

Kael.

The sound of it nearly broke him. Just in different ways that others would have been broken.

Relief crashed into his chest so hard that his eyes burned. He swallowed hard, blinking back the sudden sting as his grip on the two children tightened just a little more.

Kael was here.

And he was extremely angry.

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