CHAPTER 207: FALL OF VALTAIR [3]

Alaric crouched beside him. His crimson eyes visible now.

"Listen carefully." His voice came low. Cold. "You’re going to deliver a message for me."

His hand raised. Fingers splayed toward Veltris’s terrified face.

[Obedience Chains!]

Ethereal chains erupted from his palm. Shimmering with dark energy. They wrapped around Veltris’s head, coiling, tightening, sinking into his skull without breaking skin.

The man’s eyes went wider. His mouth opened in a silent scream.

The chains burrowed deeper. Into his consciousness. His will. His very sense of self.

[DING!]

[Target successfully subjugated]

[Subjugated Targets: 3/3]

The notification flashed across Alaric’s vision.

The chains faded. Disappeared like they’d never existed.

But the connection remained.

Veltris’s expression changed. The terror still there but... different. Overlaid with something else. Compulsion. Obedience woven into his thoughts so deeply he wouldn’t recognize it as foreign.

Alaric stood. Straightened his coat.

"Get up. Act normal."

Veltris’s paralysis was already fading, accelerated by the chain’s influence. He pushed himself up shakily. Sat in his chair.

Alaric moved quickly. Grabbed the two unconscious guards. Dragged them to the side of the room. Then gathered the burned papers. Shoved them into a drawer. Used his boot to scatter ash across the floor, making it look like an accident rather than combat.

"When I say, start talking business. Shipping routes. Contracts. Whatever sounds normal."

Veltris nodded. His movements mechanical but passing for natural.

Then the sound of heavy footsteps echoed outside, up the stairs.

Alaric positioned himself across the desk. Like a visiting merchant. His posture relaxed. Hat adjusted to shadow his face again.

"Now."

Veltris’s voice came out steady. "So, the northern route would save three days on delivery, but the terrain is rougher. We’d need to account for potential delays—"

The door burst open.

Six more guards with weapons drawn came inside. Eyes scanning for threats.

They took in the scene. Veltris sitting calmly at his desk. A merchant standing across from him. Papers scattered but not destroyed.

Confusion flickered across their faces.

"Sir?" The lead guard’s blade stayed raised. "We heard fighting. Breaking—"

"Ah." Veltris waved dismissively. "Sorry about that. We were examining some new product samples. Glass containers. One fell. Made quite the noise."

He gestured vaguely at the floor where ash was scattered.

"Startled us both honestly. But everything’s fine. Just business discussions now."

The guards hesitated. Their eyes swept the room again. Looking for something wrong. Something that justified the sounds they’d heard.

But they found nothing obvious.

"Are you certain, sir?"

"Completely." Veltris smiled reassuringly. "You can return to your posts. We’ll be wrapping up shortly anyway."

"...Yes sir."

They bowed and gone back out. The door closed behind them.

Footsteps retreated down the stairs.

Silence returned.

Alaric waited another thirty seconds. Making sure they were truly gone.

Then his crimson eyes locked onto Veltris.

"Do exactly what I commanded. Nothing more. Nothing less."

"Understood, my lord." Veltris’s response came automatic.

Alaric adjusted his hat. Pulled it lower. Rewrapped his scarf properly.

Moved toward the door without another word.

Opened it. Stepped through. Closed it behind him with a soft click.

Then he descended the stairs. Passed through the reception area where the clerk barely glanced up.

Stepped out into the afternoon street of the Millcrest town, which sat within Baron Corren’s territory. One of the closest noble houses to Count Valtair’s domain.

He walked few blocks. Turned down a side street and gone inside a tavern.

The interior was moderately full.

And in the corner—

Teryn sat at a table. His posture relaxed. A half-empty mug in front of him.

Beside him, a brown-haired girl. Purple eyes scanning the room with practiced awareness.

The moment Alaric entered, her eyes found him. Brightened immediately.

She stood.

"Darling~!"

Her voice carried across the tavern. Sweet. Affectionate.

She closed the distance in quick steps and lunged at him.

Her arms wrapped around his. Linked tightly. Pressed close against his side.

Alaric’s brow raised. Looked down at her.

Delphine’s cheeks burned red. The color spreading down her neck.

She looked away. But her arm stayed locked with his. Didn’t release.

"I-I’m just playing my part, my lord."

Her fingers tightened slightly on his sleeve.

Still not letting go.

Alaric’s lips twitched.

"Your part?"

"Y-yes. We’re supposed to be... business partners."

"Uh-huh."

Her flush deepened impossibly further.

Teryn coughed. Still not looking at them.

They sat. Delphine beside him. Close. Her eyes darting away whenever he glanced at her.

Teryn sat stiff in his chair. Waiting.

Alaric pulled his hat off. Set it on the table. His crimson eyes scanned the tavern once—checking for listeners—then focused on the siblings.

His fingers drummed once against the table. "There will be a gathering tomorrow night. Networking event. Basically, an excuse for nobility and wealthy merchants to drink and make backroom deals Money changing hands under the guise of celebration."

Delphine’s grip on his arm loosened slightly. "You’re going?"

"We’re going." He glanced at her. "As husband and wife. New money from the east. Looking to establish connections."

Her face went crimson again. "H-husband and—"

"Business arrangement." His tone stayed flat.

"Right. Yes. Of course." She nodded too quickly. Still flushed. "Business."

But her hand stayed near his on the table.

Teryn coughed. Looked away from his sister’s obvious reaction. "And me?"

"I have people positioned already. You’ll coordinate with them. They’ll feed you information during the event."

He pulled a small pouch from inside his coat. Set it on the table with a soft clink.

"This covers everything. Clothes for both of you. Entry documents. Enough coin for bribes if needed."

His eyes fixed on Delphine. "You’ll need a dress. Expensive but not gaudy."

"I can manage that." Her voice came steadier now. Though the flush hadn’t left her cheeks.

"Good." He stood. The chair scraped back. "Meet at the east gate. Tonight. Two hours after sunset."

"Tonight?" Teryn blinked. "That’s—"

"Enough time." Alaric’s tone left no room for argument. "The gathering is tomorrow evening. We need to be in position before dawn. Travel takes time."

He grabbed his hat. Settled it back on his head.

Teryn nodded slowly. Already calculating what he’d need to do. Started gathering his things from the table.

But Delphine’s hand moved. Caught Alaric’s sleeve before he could turn away.

"My lord—" She hesitated. Those purple eyes finally meeting his properly. "What if... what if someone recognizes you?"

"They won’t." His voice carried certainty. "Everyone wears masks at these events. That’s the point."

He pulled his sleeve free gently.

"Two hours after sunset. Don’t be late."

Then he turned. Wove through the tavern toward the exit.

Leaving the siblings sitting there.

Processing what was coming next.

The real game. The one where they’d walk into a room full of nobles and powerful merchants.

Delphine’s hand stayed where it had been. Hovering in empty air where his sleeve had been.

Teryn watched her. Sighed.

"You okay?"

"Husband and wife." She whispered barely audible.

"Del—"

"Even if it’s fake." She lowered her hand. Stared at it. "Even if it’s just... playing a part..."

Her cheeks were still red. Her fingers trembled slightly.

Teryn grabbed the pouch.

"We should go. Get ready. Two hours isn’t that long."

"Right. Yes." Delphine blinked. Snapped back to focus. "I need to find a dress. And you need—"

"I know what I need." He stood. Offered his hand to help her up.

She took it. Let him pull her to her feet.

They gathered their things. Started toward the door.

But Teryn caught the small smile on his sister’s face. The way her hand went to her arm where Alaric’s had been linked.

Husband and wife.

She was already lost in whatever fantasy that created.

"We’re going to die." He muttered.

"Probably." Delphine agreed.

But she was still smiling.

And that somehow made it worse.