Riven wasted no time in getting to work. He sent for his friends immediately and the next evening, Vaelorian's strategy room was buzzing with Riven's inner circle. It wasn't just any team; it was a unit of highly trained specialists he trusted completely.
Barron, Riven's most reliable right hand man, stood by the map, his posture rigid with professional focus. Willow, also with the mind of a meticulous scholar, was already covered in scrolls, looking for loopholes. Mira Lune, trained in the delicate art of diplomacy, was watching the room with a calm, discerning eye. And Anya was silently organizing the medical supply inventory, her presence a reminder that this was about people, not just politics.
"The first wall is Lord Torvin," Riven stated, tapping the designated 'Breadbasket' area on the map. "He holds the only good land and the main access roads. He's a miser who hates the Empire but loves looking important. He's already spiked our first three messages."
Barron grunted, his armored arms crossed. "He won't move until he smells either gold or blood, Riven."
"No blood, Barron. This is a silent operation, remember?" Riven replied firmly. "Willow, what does your research net have on Torvin?"
Willow didn't look up from a tax ledger she was comparing against a land deed. "He hates spending copper, but he's addicted to prestige. He needs people to think he's wealthier than he is. More importantly, he's terrified of House Veridian—they have an ancient claim on his land, waiting for him to make a single mistake."
Mira Lune spoke next, her voice carrying authority. "So, he needs protection and a title, but he won't ask for Imperial help because that'll make him look weak. We have to make him feel like he's doing us a favor."
"Exactly," Riven agreed. "We can't demand his land. We have to make him believe he is the brilliant one, and that he holds the bargaining chip. Anya, how do we make a miser feel like a hero?"
Anya looked up from her notes on required nutritional supplements. "We use his own medicine against him. We make him indispensable. I can start a subtle, well-placed rumors—leaks—in the Senate that the Crown Prince has selected Torvin's estate as the primary, high-profile demonstration site for a new health-based project."
"Health-based?" Barron asked.
"Yes," Anya said with a mischievous smile. "We emphasize the quality of the seed and the health of the food. It sounds expensive, specialized, and therefore, prestigious. It means the Prince will send high-ranking personnel—like Imperial Knights—to secure his assets, not just borrow his lands."
Riven turned, a slow, satisfying smile spreading across his face. "Brilliant, Anya. He gets free, heavily-armed security from the Veridian threat, and his cheap estate suddenly becomes an 'Imperial Health Site.' He gets all the glory and none of the cost."
"Still, we must force his hand," Mira Lune asserted. "He needs to see that it's too late for him to change anything now."
Riven nodded, his mind racing. "Barron, I need you. Take three Knights from your unit. People you can trust, and the best builders you can find. Go to his main access road. Tell them to start constructing a sturdy guardhouse and a new gate—paint it in big, flashy colors."
Barron's jaw dropped slightly. "Build on his land, Riven? Before he signs a scrap of paper?"
"We're not asking, Barron," Riven said, grabbing his sword belt. "We're giving him an opportunity to get behind the plan already laid out. When I ride out to meet him, I want him to look at that new gate and realize his choice is simple: let us make him a powerful partner, or we'll expose the loophole and he'll become an instant, exposed target for Veridian. His vanity and his fear will make the choice for him."
He looked at his team. "Willow, I need a legal document so dense and beautiful that he'll think he's signing a diplomatic treaty, not a land lease. Make it six pages, not three."
Willow snatched a fresh parchment. "Done. It will look like a masterpiece"
Riven grinned. "Alright. Let's make this uncooperative toad the unwitting hero of the Southern Territory. Let's show the Senate that the only thing better than actual power is the illusion of power, which is now managed by the best team in the Empire."
Riven rode out the next morning, followed by Barron and a small escort. He didn't want to attract too much attention.
As they approached Lord Torvin's estate, Riven saw Barron's work. Where a dusty, flimsy wooden barrier had stood, there was now a handsome, solid stone guardhouse, capped by an iron gate painted a deep blue and silver. Two of Barron's Knights stood at attention, looking utterly scary.
"The color choice is aggressive, Barron," Riven murmured, a satisfied smirk on his face. "But perfect."
Lord Torvin rushed out of his slightly shabby manor—a portly man draped in expensive, yet outdated clothes, vibrating with nervous hostility. His eyes were wide with panic, fixed on the new Imperial gate.
"Lord Riven! What is the meaning of this blatant trespass?" Torvin squeaked, pointing a shaking, ringed finger at the structure. "Who dared to deface my property with this…this eyesore?"
Riven dismounted with calm grace, ignoring the panic.
"Good morning, Lord Torvin," Riven said smoothly. "A thousand pardons. We can certainly repaint the shade of blue if it clashes with your manor's trim."
Torvin sputtered. "Repaint? Lord Riven, this is an illegal invasion!"
Riven immediately shifted to a tone of flattering seriousness, weaving in Anya's rumor-through mind control. "An invasion? Hardly, Your Lordship. This is a genuine commitment. Do you truly think that after the Crown Prince selected your highly valued, Aesthetically promising land as the primary health demonstration site for his new Imperial initiative, we would leave it undefended?"
He gestured to the gate. "This is a statement of prestige. This new gate is now the official entryway to a cutting-edge Imperial health project. It signals to every neighboring House that your land is under direct, personal, and permanent protection from the Crown. We simply couldn't risk the Prince's chosen site looking...vulnerable."
Torvin's fury evaporated, replaced by confused, greedy awe. "Aesthetically promising? Protection?" he stammered.
"Indeed," Riven confirmed, nodding earnestly. "Lady Anya—my communications specialist—is already circulating the initial communiqués. We've even coined a phrase: 'The Torvin Health Compact.' It suggests stability, innovation, and a deep partnership with the Consort-to-be." Riven leaned in, dropping his voice to a low whisper. "And as we both know, Lord Torvin, House Veridian has been eyeing your boundary claims like hungry crows. Do you want them to see your valuable land unprotected while you argue over a minor building expense?"
That was the last blow. Torvin's panic shifted entirely to the Veridian threat. "House Veridian...they will see this as a challenge?"
"They will see this as a warning," Riven corrected, his eyes serious. "This gate is a shield from the Crown, ensuring the land we need for the common folk stays safe, and your title remains secure. It's a win for your safety, your prestige, and the Empire."
He signaled Barron, who presented the giant, ribboned scroll—Willow's masterpiece.
"This is the official instrument of cooperation," Riven explained. "It legally enshrines you as the Official Imperial Custodian of the Demonstration Site for ten years. It secures your land, gives you two permanent Knight guard posts, and ensures that you are seen by the whole Senate as a crucial partner to the Crown. All it requires is your signature."
Torvin was mesmerized by the seals and the word 'Custodian.' He saw his chance to silence Veridian and look important. He grabbed the scroll. "Where do I sign?"
Riven smiled. "Right here, Your Lordship. Welcome to the team."
Torvin scribbled his signature. Riven had secured the land, not through force, but by simply outmaneuvering a man's greed with his own vanity.