The corridors of Everhart were no longer neutral. Every step Andy took echoed too loudly, every whispered conversation silenced too quickly. It wasn't just nobles gossiping—it was the air itself, heavy with suspicion.
Silver sashes glimmered faintly in defiance, rose sigils bloomed like quiet rebellion. And in between stood the opportunists, smiling too wide, waiting to bend whichever way the wind blew. Andy felt it gnaw at his chest. The divide isn't just growing—it's festering.
When Baron Alric requested audience with Nia, Andy thought little of it. Alric had once sworn loyalty to her during the Forgotten Cave. He'd fought at her side, toasted victories, even vowed to bring his household into her cause. If there was one noble they could count on, it was him. Or so Andy believed.
The chamber was lit with dozens of candles, their glow casting uneasy shadows across the nobles gathered there. Nia sat at the head, her staff resting against the table, her silver eyes sharp but weary. Around her were loyalists—Baroness Selene, stoic as ever; young Lord Darion, hot-blooded but firm; Count Veylan, pragmatic and sharp. And among them sat Baron Alric. But he would not meet Nia's eyes.
"Lady Nia," Alric began, his voice polite but strained, "I remain grateful for your leadership. No one doubts your courage. But…" His fingers twisted nervously around his goblet. "…the people speak. And powerful voices whisper that Kayla carries more than mortal grace. That she is… touched by divinity."
The chamber rippled with unease. Lord Darion slammed his fist against the table. "Divinity? Since when does divinity whisper false pasts into men's minds? Since when does it creep into dreams?"
Alric winced. "You speak as if you know the will of the gods, boy."
Darion half-rose from his seat. "Better a boy who bleeds for Everhart than a man who hides behind a saint's smile!"
"Enough." Nia's voice cut through the tension, sharp as steel. Silence fell. She leaned forward, eyes locked on Alric. "Speak plainly. Do you doubt me?"
Alric swallowed. His face was pale, his hands trembling. "I… I do not doubt your courage. But courage alone may not shield Everhart if the gods have chosen another. I fear… I fear we may be fighting the tide itself."
Andy shot up, fury sparking in his chest. "You stood with us when we bled! You saw Nia break the Shadow Beast with her own hands. You saw her pull victory from death itself. Does that sound like a mistake to you?"
Alric flinched, but his voice wavered. "I saw, yes. But I also saw Kayla. And what I felt in her presence… it was—" He broke off, shivering. "If she is divine, who are we to stand against her?"
Count Veylan leaned forward, his voice dry. "So you would trade loyalty for comfort. You'd kneel to the first glow that blinds your eyes."
Alric's jaw clenched, but his eyes were troubled, not defiant. "I don't know what I believe anymore."
The silence that followed was suffocating. Nobles shifted in their seats, some muttering prayers, others staring at their goblets as if salvation could be found at the bottom of a drink.
Nia stood slowly. Her gown whispered against the stone as she rose, her staff gleaming faintly. She looked at Alric—not with fury, but with piercing sorrow. "You think I cannot protect this House? That Andy and I are less than a smile draped in silk?" Her voice trembled, just once. Then it hardened. "If you believe that, then speak it aloud. Betrayal is still better than cowardice."
Alric's lips parted, but no words came. He looked at her, then at Andy, whose hands rested on the hilts of his blades. Sweat beaded at his brow. "I…" He faltered. "…I don't know."
The chamber groaned under the weight of those words. Baroness Selene rose abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor. "Then until you do know, Alric, you are no ally of mine." She swept from the chamber, her silver sash flashing defiantly.
Lord Darion spat onto the floor near Alric's boots. "If you want to kneel, find a temple. This is Everhart, not a shrine."
Alric remained seated, trembling, his face pale as wax. The System stirred in Andy's mind, the chime sharp and cold:
> [Alert] Loyalty fracture detected.
Baron Alric – Status: wavering.
[Bond Progression: 134% → 135%]
Mutual defense against doubt activated.
Andy's hand found Nia's beneath the table, steady and sure. She squeezed back, her silver eyes never leaving Alric's face. "Go," she said finally, her voice quiet but absolute. "If you cannot stand, then do not stand with us."
Alric rose slowly, bowing his head, his shoulders hunched as though beneath a crushing weight. He left the chamber without another word.
When the door closed, the nobles erupted. "He'll betray us—mark my words." "We should've cut him down where he sat." "No—pushing too hard will only make martyrs."
Nia raised her staff and silence fell again. Her gaze swept the room, steady, unyielding. "Let him go. If he falters, then he was never truly ours. Better to see the fracture now than when blades are drawn."
Her words steadied them, but Andy saw the flicker of pain she hid. When the chamber emptied, he lingered by her side. "You let him walk," he murmured.
She lowered her staff, the weight of the night pressing into her shoulders. "Killing him would make me no better than her. Besides…" She glanced at him, a faint smile breaking through the sorrow. "…we already have what she never will."
Andy tilted his head. "And what's that?"
She laced her fingers with his. "Truth."
The System chimed softly:
> [Bond Progression: 135% → 136%]
Resolve reinforced. Emotional sync stabilized.
Andy kissed her hand, whispering, "Then let her choke on her lies. We'll stand."
But deep in his chest, he knew—the seed had been sown. And seeds, once planted, always grow.
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