CHAPTER 134: CHANGE IN LEADERSHIP

Osiris Lawless stood in the office with his hands clasped neatly behind his back, the picture of control.

His cloak brushed faintly against the floor, its folds unmoving despite the draft slipping through the shutters. His posture was rigid, his head tilted slightly downward, but his eyes were calm pools of ice.

Outside, voices rose and fell, with soldiers announcing arrivals, and servants hurrying with messages.

Osiris heard them as clearly as he heard his own breath, but he gave them no attention. He had learned long ago that noise was just that. Noise. It would fade.

A minute later, the door swung open.

Lord Rowe entered, his steps heavy with authority, his armor creaking faintly as he moved. His jaw was clenched, his eyes filled with contained rage. Everyone could see it, clear as day.

The grief that had hollowed his features had hardened into something else now. Every move he made was filled with purpose, fury, and command.

Osiris dipped his head slightly, but his voice carried no warmth. Only that chill, mocking edge.

"Congratulations," he said flatly. "The King has given you the leash of the Authority. A pity it came through desperation rather than merit."

Rowe’s eyes locked on him, unblinking. "Do not mistake this for a victory worth celebrating together, Osiris. My daughter is still dead. My home still bleeds. Until I have answers, there will be no joy for me."

He stepped closer, the pressure dropping in the office. "And you, of all people, should not be celebrating. Not yet, Osiris."

"I see it in your eyes. You think yourself untouchable, but you will learn otherwise. My men are not paid to sit idle. They will collect what is owed, one way or another."

For a moment, silence filled every corner of the room, making itself known.

Osiris tilted his head, lips curling faintly at the edges into something not quite a smile but not quite nothing either. It was as if he had forgotten how to smile, if he ever did know how.

"I don’t think you deserve to be heard by the Investigation Authority, Lord Rowe. You speak like a grieving man, not a commander. The burden you’ve taken is greater than your spine can carry. You will break beneath it."

Rowe’s expression didn’t shift. He simply leaned forward, his voice low and cutting. "That is where you are wrong. You are no longer in a position to judge who deserves what."

He straightened, the words coming out like hammer blows. "As of this moment, you are demoted to a common grunt within the Authority. You shall have no command in this organization. No subordinates. And no office."

Osiris stiffened, his jaw tightening, but Rowe did not pause.

"And in a few days’ time, you will be escorted to the far reaches of the kingdom. Exile. You will remain there for a very long time. Out of sight and out of reach."

The words landed like chains snapping shut.

Osiris stood there for a few seconds, grinding his teeth. Then he stepped forward.

"I know you, Rowe." He said, keeping his expression calm. "You think yourself righteous. Above all others. But no. You’re just a kid who refused to grow up. You cling to your emotion like a babe clings to his mother’s teats."

"A man like you doesn’t deserve to lead the Investigation Authority. A man like you shouldn’t be handed a weapon that you cannot handle."

Osiris stepped tilted his head, studying Osiris.

"The king thinks you’ll channel your... grief into something productive. But we both know you will just focus on the only target you have. Noah Webb. And that’s your weakness, Rowe."

A cold facsimile of a smile appeared on his face. "And that’s how you’ll destroy yourself. And I’ll have fun watching."

Silence filled the air. Both men watched each other, the air tense. Then, Lord Rowe turned away with a chuckle.

"You know, you’re not wrong." He said. "You do know me. But you’ve forgotten something just as important."

"I also know you, Osiris." Lord Rowe turned back to Osiris, grinning like a hungry lion. "You’re not human. At least not fully. You’re like an abyssal beast wearing the skin of a human."

"It’s not your fault. We all know you were born this way. You lack... emotions. Empathy. We all saw it when we were growing up. That ruthlessness."

"But there are some things you have in abundance. Too much of it in fact." Lord Rowe stepped closer, the grin on his face growing.

"Your... obsessions. When you hold tightly into something, you don’t let go. Not easily. And not without something in it for you. Like Noah Webb."

"But there’s another thing. Your sense of possessiveness. That is one of the things that can bring you pain. When something that belongs to you is snatched away. And destroyed."

Rowe didn’t bother hiding the way his eyes shined with mockery and madness. "Things like your position as head of the Investigation Authority." He paused. "And your son."

Osiris’ hands trembled at his sides. Not from fear, but from the effort of containing the storm boiling inside. His eyes had narrowed into knives of frost, boring into Rowe with the promise of retribution.

"You think you can strip me down to nothing," he hissed softly, his almost supernatural sense of self control keeping him calm. "You think you can humiliate me, erase me, and bury me under distance and time. But I promise you, Rowe..."

His voice grew darker, every word thick with venom. "You will not get away with this. Not you. Not your Authority. Not your king."

He turned immediately, his cloak flaring behind him as he strode to the door. His hand lingered on the handle, knuckles white, before he shoved it open and stepped out into the hall.

The voices outside grew quiet as he passed, the agents and servants sensing the fury that clung to him like a second cloak.

Osiris did not look back.

But the promise he had left behind was heavy enough to linger in the room long after his footsteps faded.