Three weeks at Starfall Manor changed a lot of things, even if none of it was "history book" material.
The place finally stopped smelling like a dusty museum and started smelling like real life—warm bread, laundry, and the lavender oil Asimi liked. People weren't tiptoeing around anymore, looking over their shoulders like they were about to get arrested.
Asimi wasn't messing around, either. The second she found out the house steward was basically a spy for the Emperor's office, she kicked him out. The "Office of Domestic Administration" didn't like that. They started sending annoying letters and "forgetting" to send over fresh linens or guards. It was petty, bureaucratic warfare.
But Asimi just wrote back with her fancy imperial stationery and told them to back off. She replaced the staff with people she actually trusted—mostly from her own family or people Gina Othel had vetted. About two-thirds of the house was "clean" now, though a few gossipy maids were still hanging around. Asimi kept them there just so she knew exactly where the spies were.
One afternoon, the sun was just a gray smudge in the sky when Gina looked out the window. "Two carriages," she muttered. "The Angelique family is here."
Alaric was sitting in his mom's lap, feeling the soft weight of his own baby body. He was getting better at focusing his eyes, and he liked to stare at people until they got uncomfortable.
Duke Tabris Angelique walked in looking like he knew exactly how much every rug in the room cost. He had black hair, an expensive-looking coat, and a smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"My lady," Tabris said, giving a bow that was a bit too smooth to be real. "Starfall looks... lived in." "It is," Asimi said, not even offering him a seat. "What do you want, Tabris?"
Tabris didn't mind her being cold. He just looked over at Alaric. "I came to see the prince. And to tell you I've had a daughter. Her name is Dawn."
James Silver, inside the baby's head, felt a jolt. Dawn Angelique? He remembered the name from the game's lore. She was supposed to be a big deal—a tamer who could control fire-monsters. So the plot starts now, he thought.
"I want our kids to be playmates," Tabris said, sitting down even though Asimi hadn't asked him to. "Alaric is going to have a lot of enemies. My daughter is already being called 'soft' because she's a girl. They shouldn't have to grow up alone."
Asimi glared at him. "You want to protect my son? Or you want to use him?"
Tabris laughed, but it sounded a bit hollow. "I want them to be an alliance. Let's be honest, Asimi. The palace is split in two. The Crown Prince's people are getting aggressive, and Holtzen is talking about war. Your son is a 'tenth child' with weird hair and eyes. He's an easy target."
Alaric felt Gina's arms tighten around him. Even the maid knew this guy was dangerous.
"I'm proposing a marriage," Tabris said, leaning in. "A long-term arrangement. My house's strength behind your son. It makes it a lot harder for someone to 'accidentally' get rid of him."
Asimi's face turned into a mask of ice. "Arranged marriages are for old history books, Tabris." "In public, maybe. But we both know how the world really works," he replied.
Asimi looked at Alaric. She looked tired for a second, then the steel came back. "I'm not promising my son to anyone. Not until he's old enough to tell me no. But... I'll let them be playmates. For now."
Tabris smiled, looking satisfied. "A good start. I'll send her over when she's older." He stood up to leave. "Don't let your pride leave your kid without a shield, Asimi."
"And don't think I won't kill you if you try to use him," she said sweetly.
Once he was gone, the room felt like it could finally breathe again. Gina looked at Asimi. "Do you trust him?" "Not even a little," Asimi said, picking Alaric up. "But we need friends. Even the scary ones."
Alaric looked at his mom and thought about the name Dawn. He was just a baby in a cradle, but the game board was already being set up. He had a System, a killer maid, a fierce mom—and now, apparently, a "childhood friend" on the way.
He gripped his blanket. Fine, he thought. Bring it on.