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Chapter 296: Offer

The next morning dawned clear, sunlight streaming through the grand arched windows of Marquis Ventor's dining hall. The room, with its polished mahogany furniture and understated yet elegant decor, spoke of quiet wealth. The air carried the faint aroma of freshly baked bread, honey, and roasted herbs—a welcoming scent that belied the undercurrent of tension between the guests.

I arrived to find Valeria already seated, her posture as straight as ever, a paragon of Olarion discipline. Across from her, Marquis Ventor sat with the effortless poise of a man accustomed to power, his tailored coat immaculate as always. And beside him was his wife, Nadoka. She was a vision of grace, her serene expression giving little away, though her sharp eyes missed nothing.

"Ah, Lucavion," the Marquis greeted as I stepped in, his tone warm yet measured. "I was beginning to think you might oversleep."

I offered a lazy smile as I approached the table, my movements deliberately unhurried. "Wouldn't dream of it, Marquis. Your hospitality deserves punctuality, at the very least."

Valeria glanced up at me, her eyes narrowing slightly, though she said nothing. Her expression betrayed no trace of yesterday's mortification, but I caught the faint tightening of her jaw—she was still stewing over something, though whether it was me or her own overthinking, I couldn't quite tell.

"Please, sit," Nadoka said, her voice soft but commanding as she gestured to the open seat beside Valeria. "Breakfast is served best while warm."

I inclined my head respectfully. "Of course, Lady Nadoka. And may I say, your hospitality extends far beyond just your medical expertise. The table is a work of art."

Well….

I just made a mistake with the woman….

But mistakes are meant to be overlooked, aren't they?

Everyone does that sometimes, no need to be awkward.

But certainly, she is really a fine beauty.

'How envious. When will I get such a fine wife?'

One can't help it. Sometimes it is like this after all.

Her lips curved into a faint smile, one that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Flattery, is it? I suppose you're feeling well enough to indulge in such things."

I chuckled, taking my seat. "Only because of your remarkable care, my lady."

The tension in Valeria's posture grew almost imperceptibly, but she kept her focus on the plate before her, delicately slicing a piece of fruit. The Marquis watched the exchange with mild amusement before speaking.

"I trust you both rested well?" he asked, his gaze sweeping between us.

"Perfectly, Marquis," Valeria replied, her tone polite and measured. "Thank you for the accommodations."

"And you, Lucavion?" he prompted, turning his attention to me.

I shrugged lightly, reaching for a piece of bread. "I can't complain. Your staff even managed to find time to clean the blood out of my coat. Truly exceptional service."

The Marquis chuckled softly, though I noticed Nadoka's eyes narrowing ever so slightly at my words. "I'm glad you approve," Ventor said, leaning back slightly. "Though I must say, your performance in the arena was far more… dramatic than expected. Few competitors collapse and still manage to walk away with the crowd chanting their name."

I smiled, tearing a piece of bread and spreading a bit of honey on it. "What can I say? I like to leave an impression."

"And impressions you have left," Nadoka said, her tone as calm as ever, though there was a sharpness beneath it. "Particularly with the Cloud Heavens Sect."

The air seemed to cool slightly at her words, and I felt Valeria's gaze flick toward me briefly before she returned her focus to her plate.

"Ah, yes," I said, my tone light as I set the bread down. "The Sect. They've certainly made themselves known, haven't they?"

The Marquis' gaze sharpened, his relaxed demeanor tightening as he leaned forward slightly, his steepled fingers resting against his chin. The glimmer of amusement in his eyes dimmed, replaced by something far more calculating. "They've certainly made themselves known," he repeated, his voice measured, though his tone carried a razor's edge. "Tell me, Lucavion, what compelled you to make such… bold claims about the Cloud Heavens Sect?"

I met his gaze, my smile unwavering, though I noted Valeria stiffen beside me, her attention now fully focused on the exchange. "Bold, perhaps," I replied casually, reaching for another piece of bread. "But not unfounded. Surely a man of your insight, Marquis, must have also noticed the basis of my claims."

Nadoka's eyes narrowed subtly, her delicate hand resting on the stem of her teacup as though preparing to intervene. "Unconventional," she repeated, her tone soft but laced with steel. "A dangerous word, Lucavion. Especially when wielded in a public forum."

I chuckled softly, spreading a generous dollop of butter on the bread before responding. "Dangerous words for dangerous actions, my lady. If the Sect insists on veiling themselves in virtue while exploiting the vulnerable, then perhaps it's time someone held a mirror to their hypocrisy."

The Marquis leaned back slightly, his expression unreadable, though his gaze bore into mine. "You didn't merely hold a mirror, Lucavion. You shattered it. The accusations you've leveled are not only inflammatory—they're explosive."

"Explosive, yes," I agreed, taking a deliberate bite of the bread before continuing. "But sometimes, explosions are necessary to clear out rot. You're no stranger to that, are you, Marquis?"

Nadoka's fork clinked against her plate as she set it down, her hands folding neatly in her lap. "Lucavion," she said quietly, though her voice carried a note of warning, "you've made serious enemies with your actions."

I placed the bread back on my plate with deliberate calmness, my gaze steady as I met the Marquis' probing eyes. "Enemies come and go, Marquis," I began, my tone measured but carrying an unmistakable edge. "The alliances we build, the reputations we protect, the rivalries we foster—all of it pales in comparison to the cost of allowing true atrocities to persist."

Valeria's posture stiffened further, her expression unreadable as she continued to observe the exchange.

"Children," I continued, my voice dropping slightly, the weight of my words pressing against the air, "are innocent. They are untouched by the corruption of this world. They don't ask to be born into suffering or to become tools in someone else's pursuit of power. And yet, the Cloud Heavens Sect dares to exploit them, to strip them of their potential, their futures, and, in many cases, their lives."

The room fell into a tense silence, save for the faint clink of Nadoka setting her teacup down. Her sharp gaze stayed fixed on me, but I pressed on, my tone hardening.

"Regardless of politics, power plays, or consequences, one thing is clear: any hand that dares to harm a child must be crushed and erased from this world. If that earns me enemies, so be it. Their enmity is a price I'm more than willing to pay."

The Marquis remained silent, his expression unreadable, though the flicker of something—approval, perhaps?—crossed his face before disappearing. Valeria's eyes narrowed slightly, as though she were weighing my words, but she didn't speak.

The Marquis studied me carefully, his steepled fingers resting against his lips as he leaned forward. "And what if," he began, his voice measured but sharp, "your accusations are false? What if all of this is a fabrication, designed to serve your own agenda? A convenient story to stir chaos and elevate yourself?"

I paused, my gaze steady as I met his eyes. The room seemed to hold its breath, even Valeria's usual composure giving way to a flicker of unease. Then, with deliberate slowness, I let out a soft chuckle and leaned back in my chair.

"If I were making this up," I said lightly, gesturing with one hand, "then the truth would catch up to me soon enough. Lies, Marquis, have a way of unraveling on their own. A false accusation would backfire spectacularly, wouldn't you agree? It would be a foolish gamble, one that no one with half a brain would make unless they were absolutely certain of what they were saying."

Nadoka tilted her head slightly, her sharp eyes narrowing. "And yet, without evidence, certainty is nothing but a sentiment. Words, Lucavion, can be powerful tools, but without proof, they remain just that—words."

I inclined my head toward her in acknowledgment. "True enough, Lady Nadoka. Evidence is king in the court of reason. But isn't it also true that, often, we must act without the luxury of perfect clarity? That politics, at its core, thrives on the uncertain?"

The Marquis raised an eyebrow, his expression thoughtful but cautious. I leaned forward slightly, my smirk returning as I placed my hands on the table.

"However," I continued, my tone soft but laden with weight, "isn't that the beauty of politics? Often, we don't know what the future holds. We're forced to judge with what's in front of us, to make decisions based on incomplete information. And sometimes, the act of choosing itself shapes the path ahead."

Valeria's gaze flicked toward me, her expression unreadable, though I could see the gears turning in her mind. I turned my attention back to the Marquis, my smirk deepening as I delivered the final push.

"And this whole situation," I said, my voice carrying a quiet intensity, "may work perfectly toward your goals, Lord Ventor."

I stopped after saying that.

"For instance, this may be the very path for your entrance to central politics."

Chapter 297: WHAT!

"For instance, this may be the very path for your entrance to central politics."

The Marquis's gaze sharpened, his eyes narrowing as he studied me. The faintest smile tugged at his lips, though it didn't reach his eyes. "And what makes you think I'm interested in central politics, Lucavion?" he asked, his voice low but carrying an unmistakable weight.

I met his gaze, unflinching, as I leaned back in my chair, a smirk playing on my lips. "Just a guess," I replied smoothly, my tone light but deliberately vague.

The room seemed to tense further, the soft clink of Nadoka's teacup against its saucer the only sound breaking the silence. Valeria glanced between us, her expression carefully composed, though I caught the subtle furrow of her brow as she observed the exchange.

The Marquis exhaled slowly, his fingers tapping lightly against the table. "You guessed wrong," he said evenly, though his tone carried a faint edge. "I have no intention of stepping into the central arena. It's not cut for me, nor am I cut for it."

I inclined my head slightly, acknowledging his statement. "If that's the case, I understand," I said, my voice calm, almost indifferent. "Not every path is worth treading."

But then, I let my smirk return, the faintest glint of mischief flickering in my eyes. "However," I added, leaning forward slightly, "when such a good opportunity presents itself, why not make use of it?"

The Marquis's eyes narrowed further, his steely gaze locking onto mine. "What opportunity, Lucavion?" he asked, his tone carrying a note of challenge. "Opportunity for what?"

I spread my hands slightly, a gesture of casual openness, though my tone grew quieter, more pointed. "An opportunity to remind the central nobles that the borders of this Empire aren't just their playgrounds. That the strength of its outer territories isn't to be underestimated."

The room seemed to shrink around us, the exchange now feeling distinctly private despite the presence of Valeria and Nadoka. The Marquis didn't move, his expression unreadable, but his silence was enough to tell me he was listening.

"Think about it," I continued, my voice calm but deliberate. "If all of the claims that I have made were true, and all the things that I have said were correct…..Then what would happen? As a "righteous" ruler, what would the Royal Family of Arcanis think?"

The Marquis's gaze didn't waver, his steepled fingers tapping lightly against the table. "If all of your claims were true," he began, his voice slow and deliberate, "then the Empire would have no choice but to act. The Cloud Heavens Sect would be destroyed, their holdings seized, their members cast out or executed. Such corruption would leave no room for leniency."

I inclined my head, my smirk faint but present. "Exactly, Marquis. The Empire would have to respond—if the claims were true. But…" I leaned forward, my voice dropping slightly, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. "What if someone were to appear?"

The Marquis tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing. "What are you implying?"

I let the silence linger for a moment, allowing the weight of my words to build before I continued. "What if someone were to take up the mantle of justice? Someone who couldn't stand by as evil festers and preys upon the innocent. A zealot, a crusader, someone who would stop at nothing to protect those in danger—children, families, the common people. Someone who would embody the ideals the Empire claims to uphold."

Valeria's fork froze mid-air, her eyes flicking to me with a spark of surprise. Nadoka's teacup remained suspended, her gaze piercing as she tried to anticipate my next move. The Marquis, however, remained still, his expression unreadable, though the tightening of his jaw betrayed his growing intrigue.

"And this… zealot," the Marquis said slowly, his tone sharp as a blade. "If such a figure were to emerge, what would you expect?"

I leaned back slightly, spreading my hands in a gesture of mock innocence. "The common people, whose children might be at risk of being used by the Cloud Heavens Sect's so-called cultivation methods, would undoubtedly rally behind such a figure. They would embrace them as a hero, a savior."

The Marquis's eyes narrowed further, suspicion flashing in their depths. "What if they're wrong?" he asked bluntly, his voice carrying a challenge.

"It is not wrong," I said firmly, my smirk fading as I reached into the pocket of my coat. From within, I withdrew a neatly folded piece of parchment, its edges worn from handling but its surface pristine. I placed it on the table between us, my hand resting lightly on top of it. "Marquis Ventor, some truths cannot be ignored, and some actions cannot be undone. What's written here… is not the work of fiction or imagination."

The Marquis's gaze flicked to the parchment, his expression hardening. Valeria leaned slightly closer, her brow furrowing, while Nadoka's eyes darted between me and the writing, her composure unshaken but her curiosity unmistakable.

The Marquis's gaze lingered on the parchment for a moment longer before he placed it back on the table. His sharp eyes locked onto mine, unreadable but charged with thought. "So," he said slowly, his voice steady but carrying an undertone of challenge, "you're saying I should become a zealot."

I smiled faintly, leaning back in my chair, my hands resting on the arms with deliberate ease. "Indeed," I replied, my tone calm but brimming with conviction. "If there's ever a time to embrace such a role, it is now."

The room seemed to hold its breath as I leaned forward slightly, my expression sharpening. "In the face of the devil, it is the Messiah that shines the brightest."

Valeria's eyes widened slightly at my words, though she quickly masked her reaction, her expression returning to its composed neutrality. Nadoka's gaze turned colder, more piercing, as though attempting to dissect the layers of my intent. But it was the Marquis's reaction I focused on.

Ventor tilted his head, his lips curving into a faint, unreadable smile. "You speak with such certainty, Lucavion. And yet, the path you propose is fraught with peril."

I smirked, letting a quiet chuckle escape. "Isn't that the nature of opportunity, Marquis? Fraught with peril, yes, but also ripe with potential. The Cloud Heavens Sect is not without its enemies—powerful ones, I might add. And the pie, as you well know, is large. But it will not remain untouched for long."

He would understand….After all, I had made another measure.

'Silver Flame Sect.'

Starting with them.

One way or another.

The Marquis's eyes narrowed, the glint of calculation flashing within them. "You believe I should move quickly, then?"

"Not believe, Marquis," I corrected, my tone sharper now. "I know. The Sect's enemies are circling. If you hesitate, you risk losing not just the chance to strike but the ability to shape the narrative itself. A decisive blow now, framed as righteous and protective, could elevate you far beyond where you currently stand."

"And if the Sect retaliates?" he asked, his voice carrying a note of skepticism. "If this so-called zealot draws their ire to my doorstep?"

I shrugged lightly, my smirk widening. "Then you hold firm. You'll already have the support of the people. The suffering of children is not a cause that fades quietly into the night. And the Empire—ah, the Empire must act. After all, what ruler can afford to be seen as indifferent to the suffering of their own people?"

Nadoka's lips pressed into a thin line, her voice cutting through the tension. "You speak as though you've already mapped out the entire game, Lucavion. But what role do you see yourself playing in this? The Messiah? Or something else entirely?"

I met her gaze with a glimmer of amusement in my eyes. "Oh, Lady Nadoka, I have no desire to play the Messiah. That role belongs to someone with a territory, a legacy, and the means to shape the Empire's perception. I am but the catalyst, the spark that sets the fire ablaze."

The Marquis leaned back, his steepled fingers tapping against his chin in thought. The room remained heavy with silence as the weight of my words settled. Finally, he spoke, his voice calm but carrying a note of finality.

"You make a compelling argument, Lucavion. And yet, the path you suggest demands precision—an understanding of timing, allies, and public sentiment."

******

Lucavion turned his head slightly, his gaze falling on Valeria with an almost playful glint in his eyes. "Don't we already have the perfect knight family right here with us?" he asked, his tone light but layered with implication. "The Olarion family, looking to restore their honor and legacy. What better companion could there be for such a righteous endeavor?"

The room tensed as the Marquis shifted his gaze to Valeria, who froze for a moment, her fork forgotten on the plate. Her sharp eyes darted between Lucavion and Ventor, suspicion and hesitation mingling in her expression.

Valeria straightened, her voice carefully measured. "You presume much, Lucavion. My family's honor is not something to be gambled with in schemes and whispers."

Lucavion smiled faintly, unbothered by her sharp retort. "Not gambled, Valeria—secured. Picture it: the Olarion family standing tall as the bastion of justice, the sword that strikes down the vile acts of the Cloud Heavens Sect. Wouldn't that restore not just honor but glory?"

Valeria opened her mouth to respond, but the Marquis raised a hand, silencing her as he turned his full attention back to Lucavion. "And you believe the Olarion family would be the keystone to such a plan?" he asked, his voice calm but probing.

Lucavion shrugged, gesturing casually toward the parchment still in the Marquis's possession. "Marquis, in that parchment, you'll find twelve different locations—safe houses, warehouses, and covert meeting spots. These are the places and gangs the Cloud Heavens Sect is using to smuggle children as living furnaces."

The room stilled as the weight of his words settled. Nadoka's teacup paused mid-air, and even Valeria, despite her earlier composure, leaned slightly forward.

Lucavion continued, his voice gaining momentum. "Once you investigate these places and uncover the evidence, public sentiment will turn. The people won't need convincing when faced with undeniable proof of the Sect's crimes. The Empire will be forced to act—or risk losing its people's trust entirely."

The Marquis's eyes flickered with something unreadable as he tapped the parchment lightly against the table. "And what happens after this evidence is brought to light?"

Lucavion smirked, his tone dropping into something almost conspiratorial. "Then," he said, leaning forward.

"The Witch Hunt will begin."

Chapter 298: WHAT! (2)

The room erupted the moment the words left Lucavion's mouth.

"Witch Hunt?" Valeria's voice was sharp, her tone tinged with incredulity and a touch of alarm.

Beside her, Nadoka's usually composed demeanor shattered as her voice joined in. "Witch Hunt?" The words echoed in the space, her sharp gaze fixed on Lucavion like a blade poised to strike.

The ominous phrase hung in the air, heavy and oppressive. But what drew even more attention, what seemed to suck the very warmth from the room, was the smile curling on Lucavion's lips. It wasn't a casual smirk or a grin of mischief—it was something darker, something that chilled the blood. The curve of his lips and the glint in his eyes radiated unspoken menace, as if he had conjured the devil itself into the dining hall.

The Marquis, for all his composure, sat motionless, his fingers steepled under his chin. His lips parted, and his voice emerged low and measured, but the weight of his words sent a ripple through the tension-laden air.

"Witch Hunt…"

He repeated the phrase as if tasting its implications, letting the weight settle before continuing. "You dare to suggest such a course of action? Do you have any idea the chaos, the destruction, such a word invites?"

Lucavion's smile deepened, and he leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting on the table. "Oh, I know," he replied, his voice soft yet brimming with dangerous confidence. "And that's precisely the point. The Cloud Heavens Sect has operated unchecked for too long, their crimes hidden beneath layers of deceit and influence. If we're to root them out, the response must be swift, decisive, and absolute. A Witch Hunt ensures there's no room for escape."

Valeria's fists clenched, her jaw tightening as she fought to steady her thoughts. The term carried an ominous weight—a history of relentless purges and unyielding judgment. The idea of associating her family, her name, with such a thing… it was unthinkable.

"This isn't justice," she said, her voice steady despite the tension in her tone. "This is vengeance. A crusade fueled by chaos and destruction. You talk about the people rallying behind such a cause, but have you considered what happens afterward? How do you control the fire once it spreads?"

Valeria's voice cut through the heavy silence, her tone sharp with reason and barely concealed frustration. "Even if it's true," she began, her gaze fixed on Lucavion with piercing intensity, "that there are members of the Cloud Heavens Sect exploiting children, does that mean every one of them is guilty? What about those who aren't involved? Wouldn't this Witch Hunt of yours throw the baby out with the bathwater?"

Lucavion's devilish smile widened, and he raised a finger, wagging it back and forth. "Tut, tut, tut…" he murmured, his tone almost playful, yet laced with a chilling undertone. He leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with a sharp, unrelenting resolve. "Valeria, there is no fire precise enough to control. When a blaze is set to purge the rot, it doesn't discriminate. It consumes all in its path."

He straightened slightly, spreading his hands in a mock gesture of helplessness. "Hard cases make bad laws," he said, his tone dropping into something quieter, yet weightier. "The moment you start picking and choosing, drawing lines about what's acceptable and what isn't, you leave cracks for the corruption to seep back in. If you want to root out evil, you must do so completely, without hesitation."

The room stilled, the tension thick as smoke. Valeria's lips parted slightly, as if to argue further, but the weight of his words pressed against her like a stormcloud, forcing her to pause. Her fists clenched tighter, and her knuckles turned white against the table's polished surface.

The Marquis, who had been silent up to this point, turned his steely gaze toward Lucavion. His expression was unreadable, but the faint narrowing of his eyes betrayed the storm of thoughts swirling in his mind.

This young man, he thought to himself, his gaze lingering on Lucavion's calm and almost flippant demeanor. What exactly is he suggesting?

It was true that the Cloud Heavens Sect's actions, if proven, were beyond cruel. But to suggest a Witch Hunt—a strategy steeped in chaos and irreversible destruction—was a line few would dare to cross. And yet, as dangerous as it was, the temptation loomed large.

The Marquis's fingers tapped lightly against the table, his thoughts churning. A Witch Hunt, if framed correctly, could be an unparalleled weapon. It could ignite a wave of righteous fury among the people, rallying them to his cause and crippling one of the most influential sects in the Empire.

But the risks… oh, the risks. Once unleashed, the fire of a Witch Hunt wouldn't stop at the Sect alone. It could spiral into something uncontrollable, burning through alliances and leaving only ashes in its wake.

"Lucavion," the Marquis said finally, his voice low but steady, cutting through the weight of the moment. "Do you understand the gravity of what you're proposing?"

Lucavion's gaze shifted to the Marquis, his smirk softening into something more deliberate, more dangerous. "Of course," he replied smoothly, his tone unwavering. "I wouldn't suggest it if I didn't."

The Marquis leaned back slightly, his fingers steepled under his chin. His eyes narrowed further as he studied the young man before him, calculating and weighing every word, every gesture.

"And yet," the Marquis continued, his voice sharpening, "you speak of indiscriminate fire as though it is a virtue. You speak of hard cases and bad laws as though collateral damage is acceptable. Tell me, Lucavion, is it justice you seek—or merely destruction?"

Lucavion tilted his head, his smile returning faintly, though it carried an edge that was anything but innocent. "Justice," he said softly, the word lingering in the air like smoke. "Justice isn't clean, Marquis. It isn't kind. True justice, the kind that reshapes empires and topples tyrants, is a fire that burns without mercy. It destroys so that something stronger, purer, can rise from the ashes."

The Marquis fell silent, his sharp gaze boring into Lucavion's unflinching eyes. Temptation warred with caution in his mind, the weight of the decision pressing heavily against him.

Valeria, meanwhile, stared at Lucavion, her expression a mixture of disbelief and simmering frustration. "You speak as if you're playing a game," she said, her voice low but taut with anger. "But these are lives you're talking about—innocent people who could be caught in the crossfire. Is that what you want? To sacrifice them for the sake of some grand crusade?"

"THE CHILDREN WHO LOST THEIR FUTURE! ARE THEY NOT INNOCENT TOO!"

Lucavion's voice cut through the tense air, sharp and unyielding.

The sudden intensity of his words reverberated through the dining hall, silencing even the faint clink of utensils against plates. Valeria flinched ever so slightly, her eyes widening in shock, while the Marquis straightened, his steepled fingers stilling as he studied the young man before him.

Lucavion paused, his chest rising and falling as he took a deep breath. Slowly, he exhaled, his expression smoothing back into one of deliberate calm. The room seemed to shift with his composure, though the weight of his earlier outburst lingered.

"Regardless of whatever it is," he said softly, his voice measured and steady, "I've made my proposal."

He turned his gaze to Valeria, his sharp eyes locking onto hers with a mixture of curiosity and challenge. "I told you before," he began, his tone quieter but no less pointed, "your lines of justice… can you really uphold them all the time? Have you seen what happens when those lines blur?"

Valeria's jaw tightened, her lips pressing into a thin line as her fists clenched against the table.

Lucavion leaned back slightly, a faint, almost weary smile playing on his lips. "The lives of common people, Valeria… they're far more fragile than you might think. A farmer who loses a season's crop, a child taken from their parents, a family that's one illness away from ruin—they don't have the luxury of noble ideals or unyielding codes. They live on the edge of survival, and when they're preyed upon, who do you think stands up for them?"

His words hung in the air like a blade, sharp and undeniable.

And then, as if the moment had passed, Lucavion picked up his knife and fork and continued with his meal, his movements calm and unhurried, as though nothing had happened.

Valeria sat stiffly, her mind racing with his words. She wanted to refute him, to argue that justice wasn't about pragmatism or collateral damage, but the raw truth of his statement made her hesitate. The people she had sworn to protect were fragile, vulnerable in ways her life as a noble and a knight hadn't fully prepared her to see.

The Marquis, still silent, regarded Lucavion with an unreadable expression. Behind his calculating gaze, the seeds of temptation grew. This young man's audacity was as infuriating as it was compelling. For all his recklessness, Lucavion's point was clear: sometimes, action—no matter how imperfect—was better than inaction.

The tension in the room softened only slightly as the Marquis leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping lightly against the table. Nadoka remained poised, her piercing gaze flitting between Valeria and Lucavion as though waiting for one of them to break the silence.

For now, however, the only sound in the room was the quiet scrape of Lucavion's knife against his plate.