Marvel: Playing Iron Man, Falling In and Out of Love with Jinx

At the gates of Blue Rose Manor.

A steward in a slate-blue uniform stood by the entrance, a monocle perched over his right eye as he read aloud from a list of names. His voice carried clearly, reaching everyone in line.

Each person called would be inspected at the gate, verification of their documents and letters of recommendation. Any irregularities meant immediate rejection, no exceptions.

Several participants had already been turned away due to improper paperwork.

When Duke's name was called, he passed through without issue. His documents and letter had all been arranged by Collin himself, there was no room for error.

Collin and Orianna had already gone in before him. As a renowned master in the field of clockwork engineering, Collin was granted early access.

The first thing Duke noticed upon stepping through the manor gates was the rich scent of lavender in the air. It sharpened his senses and filled him with a newfound sense of composure and quiet confidence.

Led along a garden path, Duke followed his guide through the estate's main residence. They passed through a private gallery, a reception hall, and a long corridor lined with framed portraits and antique décor.

It was here that Duke truly saw the legacy of the Ferros family.

While not as publicly prestigious as other noble houses, today the Ferros family made no effort to conceal their wealth.

Portraits stretched across entire walls. Statues of beast-headed warriors, supposedly retrieved from ancient Shuriman tombs, stood sentinel along the halls. Duke even spotted a familiar kobold figure, an artifact steeped in Ionian craftsmanship. Exotic weapons bearing unmistakable Ionian designs were mounted in the corners.

The floor gleamed with polished marble, clear enough to reflect one's image. The grand staircases were crafted from Frejlordian ironwood, their growth rings clearly visible.

Duke quietly nodded to himself, taking it all in. This, this was the true heritage of the Ferros family. In this version of the world, they might not carry the same mythic weight as in the lore, but their wealth and roots ran deep.

As he passed a grand banquet hall, Duke instinctively looked up, and paused.

A woman with long silver-gray hair had just emerged from the staircase landing above. She wore a slate-colored gown adorned with subtle blue tassels. The dress swept the floor behind her, and as she moved, there was an odd sound, somewhere between a scrape and a click. Two attendants followed closely behind her.

Though she only appeared for a moment, Duke locked eyes with her.

His body tensed instinctively. He immediately stopped walking and offered a polite nod.

She returned his gaze with a calm, poised smile, responding with a graceful nod of her own before vanishing down a hallway with her attendants.

"Camille..."

Duke stood stunned for a moment until the person behind him nudged him forward. Snapping out of it, he followed the crowd ahead, still carrying the brass case by his side without the slightest tremble, though the veins bulging on his hand gripping the strap told another story.

"Was that a coincidence… or is she here to observe the candidates?"

Camille's elegant, controlled smile replayed in his mind. Her outward appearance gave no hint of her actual age, well over eighty, or the fact that she already had a grand-niece.

Yet the aura surrounding her chilled Duke to the bone, like a blade resting against the back of his neck.

"Terrifying woman."

Duke kept his head down and stayed close behind the others. Up front, Jayce and Viktor walked proudly, shoulders squared. Watching them, Duke sighed to himself.

"The ignorant really are the lucky ones."

"Let's just hope nothing unexpected happens today."

Duke eventually followed the crowd into a waiting room, found an empty chair, and sat down. Resting his hands on the brass case in front of him, his eyes betrayed neither fear nor anxiety.

"Look at that guy."

Jayce nudged Viktor with a whisper. Viktor followed his gaze and spotted the hefty brass case first.

"That thing is massive… what could he have built?"

"I'm not sure, but his face tells me he's a serious competitor."

"Relax, Jayce. We hold the future in our hands."

"Haha, you're right. The future is ours."

The two murmured over their upcoming pitch, while Duke sat in silence, his thoughts consumed by Camille.

"There's a primal Hex crystal in Aetheria's tomb. I know how to unlock the mechanism too. But with Camille around..."

Camille was one of Piltover's top combat assets. Attempting to steal the crystal now was tantamount to suicide.

"Should I risk it… or just forget about it?"

Duke let out a slow breath and closed his eyes, suppressing the distracting thoughts.

"Focus on the evaluation. I'll deal with the crystal when the time comes."

In the flower fields of Blue Rose Manor.

A pavilion sat in the middle of a lavender sea, an elegant blend of Ionian artistry and Piltover's refined style. Anyone seated there would feel as though they were wrapped in a floral embrace.

Inside, a silver-haired girl stood beside the table. Her skin was pale, her eyes deep and reflective. She seemed to be waiting for someone.

Camille, now dressed in her signature gray gown, entered the pavilion. The girl greeted her with a polite nod.

"Great-Aunt."

"No need to be so stiff, Dakora. Sit down."

Camille, exuding her usual intimidating presence, took the lead. Only once seated did Dakora dare to take her own seat.

"I saw that boy who stood trial at the Council."

As Camille waved her hand, Dakora immediately set about preparing red tea using the set on the table.

"What did you think of him?"

"Energetic. Ambitious. It's no wonder he managed to create synthetic Hex crystals."

"Shall I...?" Dakora's eyes flickered with a hint of bloodlust, but Camille shook her head.

"No need. Leave that to Mel Medarda."

"We've supported her for years to serve as our public-facing 'glove.'"

"Understood."

Dakora nodded and returned to her seat.

Camille turned to gaze across the flower fields. "Though we hold the most potent primal Hex crystal, we've yet to solve the mystery of synthetic variants."

"This development is… a welcome surprise."

"The gods smile upon House Ferros."

"Spare me the pleasantries, Dakora." Camille offered a rare, encouraging smile. "You'll be the head of the house one day. Be confident. You've done well so far, despite your youth."

"Thank you, Great Aunt."

"But your vision is still too narrow. Don't chase short-term profits. We stay in the shadows and support the Council from behind the scenes for a reason, so that Piltover remains stable and free from direct manipulation."

"Yes."

Dakora didn't dare to argue, not with a matriarch whose every word carried the weight of reason and legacy.

"You still need honing. Precision is the line between a surgeon and a butcher."

"Yes."

Camille shook her head slightly at Dakora's timid expression. "Seems I've made myself too frightening. Even my own kin fears me."

"But strength and fear aren't the only ways to forge bonds."

"Don't forget Alicia's words…"

"For my family, I give all I have."

Dakora nodded again and again. Camille, seeing her so overwhelmed, decided to stop lecturing.

"Let's speak of something more interesting."

Camille thought of the boy she had glimpsed earlier, carrying that brass case, his gait steady, his breath composed, his eyes sharp with confidence.

"I came across an impressive young man earlier."

"Should I investigate?"

"No need. But he clearly possesses traits far beyond the average. That kind of composure… even you could learn from him. Piltover is full of rising stars these days."

"Stronger than me?"

"Do you doubt my judgment?"

Under Camille's gaze, Dakora lowered her head. "I wouldn't dare."

"Since we've taken an interest, keep tabs on him. If he proves useful, recruit him. Our family's strength is waning, we need new blood."

"Yes. As you command." Dakora stood and bowed her head. "For House Ferros."

Camille didn't respond. Instead, she stared at the water kettle, steam curling into the air.

"We don't play the game. We write the rules."

"Remember that, Dakora."

"Stay alert, but don't live too tightly wound."

With a faint smile, Camille lifted the kettle and began pouring tea.

"There's always time for a cup of tea."

(End of chapter)

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