CHAPTER 90: BANQUET [1]

The next day...

The sky was painted in hues of orange and violet as the sun began its descent toward the horizon, casting long shadows over the jagged hills.

"Haaa..."

Alaric exhaled deeply as he emerged from the makeshift camp positioned outside the mining operations, his muscles protesting after a long day of overseeing the work.

He stretched his arms above his head, working out the stiffness that had settled in his shoulders.

The Glimor guards immediately straightened and bowed respectfully before falling into step behind him.

"Damn those pesky creatures," he muttered under his breath, remembering the encounter the troublesome beasts that had delayed the excavation earlier in the day.

His boots crunched against the gravel path as he made his way toward the waiting wagon.

Around the camp, other nobles were also concluding their inspections for the day.

They exchanged the usual pleasantries with one another, polite nods, brief conversations, before dispersing toward their respective carriages and escorts.

Just as Alaric’s hand reached for the wagon’s door handle, footsteps approached from behind.

"Lord Alaric."

His lips twitched with barely concealed irritation.

Not again, he thought, recognizing the tone of someone who wanted something from him, the third such interruption today.

Suppressing a sigh, he turned back and offered a curt nod of acknowledgment. "What do you need, milord?"

An old man stood there, his silver hair neatly combed, a cane in one hand more for ceremony than support. His smile was the kind that never quite reached the eyes.

"I simply wished to commend you," the man said smoothly, "For your... decisive display during the trial. House Glimor must be proud to have such a bold heir." His gaze lingered, measuring, as though peeling away layers.

Alaric’s brow arched. "Your words are generous."

His tone was mild, almost lazy, but his eyes sharpened.

The old man chuckled low.

"Generosity has nothing to do with it. Talent like yours... will attract attention, whether you desire it or not. And in these times..."

His voice trailed off meaningfully, the smile widening.

"It is best to remember who stands with you, and... Who watches from the shadows."

For a moment, only the wind stirred between them, swaying his dark obsidian hair, as he stared at the old noble.

"Duly noted," Alaric said, inclining his head just enough to be polite.

"If that is all..."

The old man’s eyes glittered, as though amused by something only he knew. "For now, yes."

Alaric turned back to his wagon without another word, his steps unhurried. Behind him, the rhythmic tap of the cane faded into the murmurs of the dispersing nobles.

Alaric let out a long sigh as he stepped into the carriage, the moment the door closed behind him, he let his head fall back against the plush cushions with an audible thud.

His eyes drifted shut as the wagon began its journey.

He’d been at the mining operations since yesterday evening, first dealing with the aggressive cave dwellers that had been disrupting the work crews, then managing the negotiations with the various stakeholders who held interests in the Glimor mines.

His debut as the official heir had gone smoothly enough, he supposed.

By all accounts, he had handled it flawlessly, calm words where needed, a firm hand when required, but that didn’t mean he enjoyed it. Far from it.

Hours passed in the rhythmic sway of the wagon, and the steady clip-clop of hooves gradually lulled him into a light doze, his mind finally allowed to drift from the day’s responsibilities.

Then—

Creaaak!

The wheels slowed, the wagon came to a stop.

They had arrived.

Alaric stepped down, breathing in the cool night air with relief.

Alaric stepped down, boots meeting the gravel with a muted crunch. He exhaled, long and slow, his breath misting faintly in the cool night air.

Above, a crescent moon hung high, casting its silver light over the towering silhouette of the Glimor manor.

Alaric made his way through the manor’s entrance, his boots echoing softly against the polished marble floors.

The household staff immediately straightened at his approach, maids curtsying with practiced grace while their eyes lingered a moment longer than propriety dictated. His striking features and the confident way he carried himself, even when exhausted, had not gone unnoticed among the servants.

He navigated the familiar corridors until he reached a heavy oak door. He knocked twice.

"Come in," came her voice from within, carrying its usual note of authority.

Alaric pushed open the door and stepped inside to find Selene exactly where he’d expected her, seated behind her mahogany desk, bathed in the warm glow of several lamps.

She had changed from her formal attire into a flowing nightgown of forest green silk that caught the lamplight like liquid emerald, her dark hair loose around her shoulders.

When he settled into the chair across from her desk, she didn’t spare him so much as a glance.

Her attention remained fixed on the documents spread before her, quill scratching methodically across parchment as if his presence was merely another piece of furniture in the room.

Alaric raised an eyebrow at her pointed dismissal, then let a knowing smile play across his lips.

"What happened, Au—"

"How was the progress at the mines?" she interrupted sharply, her tone firm but lacked the edge.

He leaned back slightly in his chair, choosing not to push.

"Well, there were quite a few complications," he said, his voice carrying the weariness. "But in the end, it all worked out fine."

At that, Selene finally raised her head from her papers, emerald eyes focusing on him with sharp interest. "What kind of problems?"

"Just some cave dwellers causing trouble for the work crews, and a few merchants getting... overly ambitious about their profit margins."

He closed his eyes and leaned further back into the chair’s embrace, letting out a long sigh. "But I put them all back in their proper places. You don’t need to worry about it."

She nodded, her attention already drifting back toward the scattered documents.

"Anything else you need to report?"

Alaric straightened in his chair and leaned forward slightly.

" Nothing I just wanted to see my—"

"Then get out. I’m busy," she cut him off again, though this time her voice wavered almost imperceptibly.

A tiny crack in the armor she’d constructed since their earlier encounter.

Did I gone bit far?

Alaric held back a laugh at her transparent attempt to maintain distance, the corners of his mouth twitching with barely suppressed amusement.

Then he rose from his chair with deliberate slowness, as if savoring her discomfort.

"As you wish, dear aunt," he said, the title carrying just enough warmth to remind her of what she was pushing away.

Without another word, he turned and walked out, stepped into the corridor and closed the door softly behind him.

Then he made his way to his own room and shut the door behind him.

And settled on his bed with a quiet thud, closing his eyes, letting the wariness drift him away to deep slumber.

--------

Another day had passed in much the same way as the one before.

Selene continued to maintain her distance, preserving what remained of her dignity after their little power struggle, when he’d overturned her little game.

Alaric only found it amusing. In fact, he’d been having a quiet sort of fun watching her work hard to rebuild her composure, and he took quiet pleasure in the occasional glimpses of flustered irritation that slipped through her carefully maintained facade.

Knock!

The morning sun was just beginning to filter through his chamber windows when a soft knock at the door stirred him from sleep.

"Come in," he called.

The door opened, and a maid stepped in, hands folded neatly in front of her.

"Young Master, Milady asked me to inform you that you’ll be departing in an hour. She wishes you to be ready by then."

Alaric rubbed his eyes and sat up against the pillows. "Tell her I’ll be there."

The maid bowed and withdrew, closing the door behind her with a quiet click.

Today marked the coming-of-age celebration for the Duke’s eldest daughter.

A milestone that would transform the girl into a marriageable young woman in the eyes of noble society.

It was the kind of event that drew every house of significance from across the eastern territories, a glittering display of wealth, politics, and carefully orchestrated social maneuvering.

Such celebrations served multiple purposes beyond honoring the young lady in question. They were opportunities for houses to showcase their prosperity, forge new alliances, and assess potential marriage arrangements.

Parents would scrutinize eligible bachelors while young nobles would attempt to distinguish themselves through displays of wit, charm, or martial prowess.

For House Glimor, it represented Alaric’s first major social debut as the officially recognized heir, a chance to solidify the impression and establish himself among his peers.

With a low sigh, he pushed himself up from the bed.

After washing and attending to his appearance, he selected his attire.

A deep black doublet.

Its fitted silhouette emphasizing his lean frame while intricate red threading traced elegant patterns across the chest and sleeves.

The craftsmanship spoke of quality without ostentation.

The garment’s high collar framed the faded scarf he still wore.

As he adjusted the clasps and ensured every detail was perfect, he caught his reflection in the polished mirror.

The young man staring back looked every composed, confident, and ready for whatever theater awaited him.

Then he ran a hand through his hair and muttered.

"Let’s get over with it quickly."

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{A/N: I deeply apologize for the inconveniences I had caused you guys.}