CHAPTER 96: WEALTH IS A DELICATE THING

For a moment, there was only silence—the faint creak of the carriage beneath them, the fading murmur of the palace behind. Aric exhaled, a slow, deliberate release of tension, and with a flick of his wrist, a dagger appeared in his hand.

He turned it over, watching the blade catch a shard of moonlight through the window.

"Are they ready?" he asked, his voice a steady, cold whisper.

Serina nodded, her expression unyielding. "They await us in position."

The knife gleamed beneath the dim luminescent light fixed carefully within the carriage, and Aric turned it between his fingers before a flick of his wrist made it vanish as seamlessly as it had appeared.

He leaned back against the soft leather seat, a faint smile tugging at his lips, but Serina was quick to pull him from his thoughts.

"What’s the next move?"

Her voice was calm, unshaken, her gaze resting squarely on him as if already anticipating part of his reply.

Aric’s eyes drifted toward the window, watching the lights of the Imperial Palace recede into the distance.

"We stay with the plan," he murmured, his tone low but resolute. "My second brother... he will need to be dealt with quickly. But Darius—I intend to show him a very particular kind of despair."

Serina nodded slowly, her eyes narrowing in thought as she loosened the ties of her dress.

She slid her arms free, revealing bare shoulders, then tugged the fabric down, leaving only a dark wrap across her chest, prominent when uncovered.

Without pause or hesitation, she reached into a compartment beneath the seat and drew out a fitted black top—sleek, tight, made to cling to her skin and enhance mobility. Efficient and silent, she changed with practiced ease.

Aric occasionally looked aside, keeping his gaze steady and casual despite her half-dressed state, though she did not miss a beat.

"House Vane," she said, drawing his attention back. "They were... curiously attentive tonight. I noticed them watching, even after the confrontations, drawing closer than expected."

Aric let out a quiet laugh, tinged with both humor and cunning.

"Yes, they were. But it’s not because they’ve abandoned Darius; they’re cautious. House Vane knows any unchecked threat—even one as subtle as my return—could disrupt their balance."

"So what do you plan to do with them?" she asked, slipping her arms into the top’s sleeves. She pulled it down, smoothing the fabric over her torso, her movements calm as though they discussed nothing more than the weather.

Aric shrugged, eyes glinting with a thoughtfulness that veiled much deeper intent.

"For now, nothing. But ignoring them would be a wasted opportunity."

Serina’s gaze sharpened.

"How so?"

He breathed in, leaning back as he spoke.

"House Vane’s roots run deeper than most realize. They hail from Eryndor—a port city bridging Valeria’s trade with the Solan Empire and the elven lands." His tone shifted, amused, almost reverent. "Their founder, Derek Vane, was common-born—a merchant who spotted a gap in the system. He allied with lesser guilds and rose by empowering them against the corrupt giants under noble control."

Her brows lifted with intrigue.

"And now, they’ve somehow managed to join the imperial nobility. That must have required more than... charm."

Aric nodded, lips twisting into a smile.

"More than charm, yes. The empire needed coin, and Derek Vane was shrewd enough to offer a grand ’loan’ to the treasury in exchange for a title. The irony? The loan was never repaid." He glanced at her, eyes flickering with mirth. "They built an empire within the empire."

Serina adjusted the top against her chest, arching a brow. "And now they control...?"

"Forty percent of Valeria’s imports and exports," Aric answered smoothly. "The rest of the kingdoms hold only twenty percent combined. And the remaining forty," he paused, letting a knowing smile curve his lips, "belongs to us. Or rather, Byzeth. Every trade route from the Northrend flows through Byzeth alone, a truth no one in Valeria yet grasps."

Serina stilled mid-motion, her eyes flicking toward him with dawning comprehension.

"So what does this mean for us, with House Vane?"

"A potential alliance," he said softly. "If they realize the sheer scale of commerce Byzeth commands in the north, they’ll seize the chance. Profit drives them—more than loyalty to Darius. It’s in their blood to follow gold. When they see the chance to merge with a network as vast as ours, they’ll struggle to remain bound to him."

Serina crossed her arms, her tone skeptical.

"And if, by chance, their loyalty proves stronger than their greed?"

Aric’s smile turned cold.

"Then Byzeth will not merely hold forty percent of the trade. It will control eighty."

At last Serina was fully dressed, her clothes practical for infiltration, her top clinging to her form, accentuating her chest provocatively as she smoothed her dark hair upward, twisting it into a tight knot at the back of her head.

Her gaze met his, a flicker of humor in her eyes as she noticed his lingering glance at her chest.

"Focus, your highness," she teased lightly.

Aric grinned, expression unrepentant.

"That’s proving difficult."

She chuckled, swinging the carriage door open and stepping into the cool night. Aric followed close behind, giving the driver a subtle nod, and the man understood, steering forward to leave them near the mansion of House Brienne.

The faint scent of burning torches drifted on the breeze, mingling with the night air.

Two men emerged from the shadows—Borag and Mandel materializing as if the darkness itself had birthed them.

"Is everyone ready?" Aric’s voice was quiet but sharp, honed with controlled intensity.

Borag nodded, his expression grim yet resolute. "We are prepared."

Aric’s gaze swept over them, and he sighed as decisive resolve settled in his features. The moonlight carved a stark gleam across his face as he straightened, shoulders squared, eyes fixed on the estate.

"Then we move," he murmured, a wicked straightness curling at the edge of his mouth.

"Let us pay my brother’s fiancée a visit."