The scent of wine and blood lingered thickly in the air of the brothel's private chamber, where silk-draped walls muffled the moans and laughter beyond. Four lords lounged around a low, obsidian table, Lord Kael with his serpent, Lord Zen watching all with unreadable stillness, Lord Cain swirling his goblet, and Lord Cassian wearing his signature smug grin as a courtesan perched on his lap, feeding him berries.
"I hear you've taken a liking to Hugh's daughter," Cain said dryly, his fangs catching the candlelight. "Didn't think you were one for scandal, Cassian."
Cassian chuckled, not looking up. "Is it scandal... or strategy?" He plucked a berry from the courtesan's fingers.
"The girl's spoiled, yes. But she's beautiful. Rich. Born of silver spoons. And marrying her would surely drive that crusted relic Hugh mad."
Lord Zen raised an eyebrow, quietly intrigued.
"She's a concubine's daughter," Cain snapped.
"Half-born. Blood diluted with mediocrity. And you want to bind yourself to that to spite her father? Pathetic."
Cassian's grin widened, but his eyes glinted cold.
"Coming from the man who doesn't bed the same woman twice? How would you know the worth of a long-term investment?"
Kael let out a slow, amused breath. His serpent coiled tighter around his arm.
"The real question is... Can she even carry?" His voice was cool and slow, laced with venom. "You court her for power, but is her womb just for display? I've heard the nobles whisper, that she's never bled."
Cassian's smile faded, just a flicker.
Lord Cain snorted. "You're both fools. One chasing a title through a girl with no spine, and the other worried about lineage in a world where half of us don't even breed anymore."
Kael leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
"Still, Cassian... if she's as empty as Hugh's coffers, will all your little plans be worth it?"
Cassian tensed. "Say that again, Kael."
Zen finally spoke, voice smooth and distant. "He already has. And he's not wrong. You play a dangerous game. Court the daughter, and you inherit Hugh's enemies... and possibly his curses."
Lord Cassian downed his wine. "Then let them come. I'll drink to her, kiss her, and if I must, turn her. Just to watch her father squirm."
Cain raised his goblet. "To spite. The oldest reason for a wedding."
Lord Cassian leaned back, shooing the courtesan from his lap with a lazy wave.
"Enough about me," he drawled, a faint smirk crossing his face. "Let's focus on the ball and Isis's plans."
He lowered his voice slightly. "It's not just a celebration, it's a delicate dance of power. A chance to remind our allies—and those watching from shadows, that we still hold sway. That we remain unbroken."
Lord Kael nodded thoughtfully,
"We must carry ourselves with quiet strength. Let our presence speak without shouting."
Lord Cain rolled his eyes but chuckled softly.
"Honestly, I'm just hoping this ball is good for more than politics. Could be my best chance to find some company."
Cassian shot him a knowing glance but pressed on,
"Still, it's important we appear united. Show them there's no fracture to exploit."l
Cain shrugged, "Fine, fine. Just don't expect me to sit in council all night. I'll be enjoying the evening in my own way."
The others exchanged subtle smiles, each aware that beneath the surface of politics, old habits and desires still ran deep. The men knew the ball was important, but for Cain, pleasure came first.
***
Back in Creedom
A Letter Arrived by Nightfall…
The seal bore the unmistakable sigil of Hittites — a crimson Lion, The ribbon, blood-red, intact. Genuine.
*To His Majesty, King Kai of Creedom,*
From the hand of Queen Dalia of Hittites.
I have come to free you from the grip of the Hivites, those who, under the guise of alliance, have drained Creedom for years. I hereby pledge to settle all outstanding debts owed by your kingdom. Let this not be seen as a bargain, but a gesture of faith… of friendship.
I urge silence. Generosity breeds envy, and our enemies have long ears. I ask only that, when the time is right, we might walk side by side.
That night, King Kai could not sleep.
He stared at the letter, fingers trailing its edges. He knew the feud between the Hivites and the Hitties ran blood-deep. Breaking their alliance now, especially after the Hivites had aided Creedom during famine and drought, would provoke retaliation, possibly war.
But caution was never Kai's strength. He was a man of impulse, of gut decisions.
And the full moon loomed, the deadline for his payments.
He pressed the letter to his chest and muttered,
"Sapphire." He longed for his daughter, the only one who had the patience and foresight to manage statecraft. Without her, everything unraveled.
But if Dalia offered salvation… then damn the consequences.
Let them come.