CHAPTER 220: THREADS IN THE DARK [2]

The study was quiet enough to hear the faint scratch of quill on parchment from the adjoining room.

The tall windows were shut against the cool air, their glass panes catching the orange glow of the fireplace.

Marquess Raylan Veyl sat behind his desk. His fingers resting lightly on the stem of a half-full wine glass, eyes fixed on the swirl of red as if the liquid might give him answers.

The air in front of him shimmered.

A ripple, faint at first, grew into the sharp outline of a man.

Duke Alistair Ignaris’s image solidified, faint light bleeding from the runes on the communication crystal at the desk’s edge.

His face was as stern as stone. The kind of expression that gave nothing away and told you everything at once.

"Duke Ignaris," Raylan greeted, leaning back in his chair.

His voice was smooth and deliberate. The same tone he used when negotiating trade routes or fencing with rivals over council votes.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Alistair’s eyes didn’t soften.

"You already know."

Raylan’s smile curved, faint but visible.

"If I did, I wouldn’t need to ask."

The Duke’s gaze held him for a long beat, weighing his words.

"I’ll ask plainly then... what are you planning?"

Raylan spread his hands in an easy gesture, wine glass still caught between two fingers.

"Planning? I’m afraid you’ll have to be more specific. My days are full of plans. Land management. Council proposals. Hosting tedious dinners with tedious people. I’m not sure which one could possibly concern you."

"Don’t play dumb, Raylan" Alistair said, his voice firm. "I know exactly what you’re doing."

Raylan’s brow lifted. An expression just shy of mockery.

"Enlighten me."

"You sent a marriage proposal for your adopted daughter... to Kyle Valemont."

The Marquess’s eyes lingered on the Duke’s face, searching for the tell, what, precisely, was behind this line of questioning.

He chuckled softly, setting the glass down with a faint clink.

"And? You speak as though arranging a match is a crime."

Alistair didn’t move, didn’t blink.

"At the council meeting last month, you were already circling his name. Curious about him. Asking why the demons targeted Eldermere Hospital... and specifically his room. You wanted to know what was so special about him."

His tone cooled further. "You suggested, quietly, of course. That perhaps the boy should be... examined."

Raylan’s smile stayed, though his eyes grew faintly sharper.

"I recall suggesting a thorough assessment. We live in dangerous times. It’s not unreasonable to ensure a potential threat isn’t hiding under our noses."

"You weren’t suggesting an assessment," Alistair said. "You were talking about cutting him open."

The words hung in the space between them, quiet but heavy.

"Not openly," Raylan countered, voice still calm. "Subtly. Discreetly. These things can be done without scandal."

"That’s not the point," the Duke said. A flicker of heat in his voice now. "Seris Voidcrest didn’t take kindly to that suggestion."

Raylan’s smirk deepened.

"The Void Empress... she has always been prone to dramatics."

"This isn’t dramatics, Raylan. That woman seems to cares for him deeply. And she is not someone you want as an enemy." Alistair’s voice dropped lower, slower. "Nor is Lucian Aetheris."

The Marquess tilted his head, as though weighing the words.

"The Principal and Vice Principal of Solvayne Academy," he said lightly. "Impressive titles, but they hardly—"

"They are more than their titles," the Duke cut in, steel threading through his voice.

"You know this. If you go after that boy. If you try to use him, you’ll be crossing both of them. And that is a line you do not want to cross."

Raylan’s smile didn’t falter. But his eyes stayed on the Duke’s like a man testing the strength of a bridge before stepping onto it.

"And you have come all this way to deliver a warning?"

"I’ve come to tell you," Alistair said, "that if you continue down this path, even I won’t be able to save you."

For the first time, silence settled between them. The only sound was the faint crackle from the fireplace.

Raylan tapped a finger against the desk, slow and deliberate.

"You presume I need saving."

The Duke didn’t rise to the bait.

"You presume you’ll never find yourself in a position where you do."

The Marquess’s lips twitched. Half amusement, half dismissal.

"I appreciate your concern, truly. But if you think I’ll abandon a potential opportunity because of some... academy politics, you misjudge me."

"This isn’t politics, Raylan. This is survival."

Raylan picked up his wine again, swirling it lazily.

"Survival, you say... and yet you’re here telling me to step away from a game I might already be winning."

Alistair’s expression didn’t change.

"There are games worth winning, and there are games that will destroy you. Learn the difference."

"Wise words," Raylan said, raising the glass slightly.

"But I think we both know I’ve always had a talent for knowing which is which."

"I wonder," Duke murmured, "if that confidence will hold when the pieces begin to fall."

Raylan’s eyes glinted. "And I wonder if you’ll still be watching when they do."

The Duke straightened slightly. The faint shimmer of the projection beginning to flicker at its edges.

"You can take this as a warning from your father in law, or the last courtesy I’ll offer you. Your choice."

Raylan’s smile was cool, almost polite.

"Noted."

The shimmer flared once, then faded, and Duke Ignaris’s image dissolved into the air.

The room seemed suddenly quieter, the crackle of the fire loud again.

Raylan sat still for a long moment. The wine glass poised in his hand.

He took a slow sip, letting the warmth spread across his tongue.

The firelight painted his features in gold and shadow, catching the faint line of thought between his brows.

Kyle Valemont.

The name sat in his mind like a coin in the palm. It was small, but heavy.

The Duke was wrong, of course. This wasn’t about recklessness. It was about potential.

And potential was always worth the risk.

He leaned back in his chair, rolling the stem of the glass between his fingers.

The boy had already been marked by the demons once.

That kind of attention didn’t fade without reason.

There was something there, something worth uncovering.

And if the demons wanted him badly enough... well, there were always ways to make a bargain.

The thought drew a faint curve to his lips.

Elizabeth would help, of course.

She was a clever girl, beautiful in the way that made men foolish.

If she played her part well, and she would. Kyle might not even see the strings being tied.

A man distracted by affection rarely noticed the knife at his back.

And if the time came, Kyle could be... persuaded. Turned into a tool sharp enough to cut, but dull enough to be wielded without fear.

Or, if the situation called for it. He could be handed over, a perfect offering when the right deal with the right devil presented itself.

Raylan took another sip, savoring it this time.

Duke thought him reckless. Others thought him cruel.

’Perhaps they were both right, in their own way. But cruelty had its uses, and recklessness was only a matter of perspective.’

The flames in the hearth shifted. A log collapsing inward with a soft crack. Shadows moved across the study’s walls, long and thin.

’Yes. The game was already in motion. And whether the Duke liked it or not. I intended to play it to the very end.’

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[Classroom A1 — Solvayne Academy]

The scratch of marker on the white board had been the only sound for a while now.

Instructor Aurelia’s voice carried over the room in a steady rhythm.

Her words neat and precise, matching the way her handwriting curved against the dark surface.

Kyle leaned back in his seat at the very last row.

To his right was Luna, her gaze fixed on the board but her fingers absently spinning a pen.

On his other side, Reo had his chin propped on one hand, trying and failing to keep his eyes open.

Just ahead of them, in the next row, Cedric and Cassian were seated.

That, in itself, was strange enough to make Kyle raise a brow.

Kyle’s gaze lingered on them for a moment before sliding back to the board.

’What’s with them today?’

"...And that should be enough for now," Aurelia said at last, setting the marker down. "That’s it for today."

A faint pause, as though she was weighing her next words.

"Also, your midterm practical exam, which was... cancelled earlier," her voice slowed.

A flicker of hesitation crossing her features.

"...due to some unexpected incident, might happen soon. The date will be announced later."

A small ripple went through the room. Whispers, exchanged glances.

Aurelia gave the class a final nod before gathering her notes.

"Dismissed."

Chairs scraped softly against the floor as students began to rise.

Aurelia swept past the rows with her usual composed grace, her dark coat brushing lightly as she left.

Reo stretched with an exaggerated groan the moment she was gone.

"Finally. Thought my soul was about to wither away back there."

Luna’s lips curved into a small smile.

"It’s been forty minutes."

"Feels like forty years when you’re sitting through rune theory." Reo shot back, dragging his hands down his face.

Cassian turned halfway in his seat, smirking.

"Maybe if you listened, you wouldn’t look like you’re suffering through torture."

"Maybe if you stopped acting like you swallowed the textbook, you’d be more fun." Reo replied without missing a beat.

Cedric chuckled under his breath.

"I’m fairly sure Cassian did read the textbook... twice."

Kyle watched them with an amused glance, letting their banter play out.

"Still not used to seeing you two back here," he said finally, nodding toward Cedric and Cassian.

Cassian shrugged.

"Thought we’d give the back rows a try. Turns out, the air’s just as breathable here."

Cedric’s smile was mild. "Besides, it’s good to change things up once in a while."

Reo leaned forward over the desk.

"Translation: they wanted to sit near us."

Cassian snorted. "Don’t flatter yourself."

"Hey, you came all the way here. I’m taking it as a win," Reo said, grinning.

Luna shook her head, her pen still twirling between her fingers.

"You two are impossible."

"Three," Kyle added.

Her eyes flicked toward him, the faintest laugh escaping.

The noise of the hallway beyond the door was picking up, students heading to their next class, footsteps echoing faintly.

"Let’s go eat something. I’m hungry," Reo said.

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Author’s Note:

Please check the last Chapter again. I rewrote the Marquess Rylan scene and tweaked his personality slightly.

Also, let me know if you think the pacing feels too slow.

And you might have already guessed by now that Veyl is the same character from Gathering of Blades Chapter.

(I’ll also be making some changes to that Chapter soon, since I originally wrote him as Duke Veyl there).

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