The East Court reeked of perfume, secrets, and rotting promises.
Velas stepped out of the carriage, his cloak billowing behind him like shadow-woven silk. Seraphina followed, armored in silver-trimmed leather rather than a gown, eyes scanning the crowd like a hawk.
They were guests.
But the smiles directed at them were all teeth.
"You sure about this?" she murmured, her fingers twitching near her belt.
"No," Velas replied calmly. "But Mira warned me. And I trust her instincts… even if I don't trust her."
The East Court was a marvel of opulence. White marble halls. Crystal chandeliers shaped like falling stars. Nobles glided like predators, their laughter too smooth, their eyes too sharp.
Every face here was painted with pretense.
Every hand held a knife.
And Velas walked into it like a king without a crown.
They were announced at the entrance: "Velas Vire, inheritor of the Incubus Legacy, and Seraphina of the Roseguard."
Whispers bloomed behind fans.
A woman in a deep crimson gown stepped forward, her golden hair coiled like a serpent atop her head. Lady Camelle Valoria—hostess of the evening and queen of subtle wars.
"Lord Velas," she said sweetly. "What a pleasure. I feared you'd decline."
"I'm too curious to decline danger, Lady Valoria."
She smiled wider. "Spoken like your father."
Seraphina stiffened, but Velas's expression didn't change.
"I'd rather be measured by my own sins," he said. "Not his."
Camelle's laughter was low, husky. "Oh, but legacy is everything in this court. Isn't that what makes you so interesting?"
She gestured for them to follow. Music played in the distance, soft and seductive, as they passed under rose-draped arches.
But behind every petal, a spy.
Behind every statue, a secret.
Camelle guided them to a private lounge. Plush couches, velvet curtains, dim lighting.
"I thought we might talk without the noise," she purred. "So many eyes. So many ears."
"Of course," Velas said, taking a seat.
Seraphina stood behind him, arms crossed.
Camelle poured two glasses of wine—one for herself, one for Velas.
She didn't offer Seraphina any.
Velas didn't touch his.
"You came alone?" Camelle asked, eyes gleaming.
"I'm never alone," he replied, without looking at Seraphina.
"Of course," she said lightly. "But a man like you… you need allies. Sponsors. A future. Your bloodline is powerful, yes, but unpolished. You lack… structure."
Velas leaned back.
"And you'd offer that structure?"
"In exchange for loyalty."
"To you?" he asked.
"To the Council. To those who truly rule Valeria while kings pretend to wear crowns."
Velas smirked. "I don't pretend to wear anything. When I take the crown… it will be real."
Camelle's expression flickered.
Arrogance? Or danger?
"I admire ambition," she said. "But ambition needs fuel. You've tasted power, yes. Women fall at your feet. Nobles send you gifts. But that won't last unless you cement your place."
Velas raised an eyebrow. "And how would I do that?"
She reached into her cloak and pulled out a ring.
Not just any ring—a seal.
Gold, marked with a sigil he didn't recognize. Twisted vines and a wolf's fang.
"This is a seat," she whispered. "Not on the Council, not yet—but on its edge. A foothold. Accept it, and you'll have protection, influence… resources."
Velas stared at it.
Then smiled.
"How many strings come with it?"
Camelle tilted her head. "Only the ones that keep you from hanging yourself."
He picked up the ring, rolled it between his fingers.
"I'll consider it."
"That's all I ask."
They exchanged no more words, but everything important had already been said.
---
Back in their private quarters at the inn, Seraphina shut the door with more force than necessary.
"You're not joining them."
Velas poured himself water this time, avoiding her eyes.
"I didn't accept."
"You didn't refuse."
"She's right about one thing," he said quietly. "We need leverage. Gold, connections. The Legacy won't protect us from everything."
Seraphina grabbed his shoulder, spun him to face her.
"You think I care about legacy? About bloodlines or thrones? I follow you, Velas. Not some council. Not your dead father's name."
His jaw clenched. "And I won't kneel to them."
"Then why listen?"
"Because I want to learn which wolves to shoot first."
She stared at him.
Then slowly let go.
Velas exhaled.
"I don't trust Camelle," he added. "But I don't want to walk blind either."
Seraphina nodded, tension bleeding from her shoulders.
"You're getting colder."
"What?"
"Since Mira. Since the Legacy awakened. You don't smile like before. You calculate."
Velas looked away.
"I don't have the luxury of warmth anymore."
She didn't argue.
She just stayed near.
Not touching—but close enough to feel.
---
[System Notification]
Legacy Reaction Detected: Political Alignment Opportunity
> Accepting the East Council's offer will grant:
+500 Gold
Weekly resources
Hidden Agenda (???)
Rejecting will unlock:
Independent Path
Higher risk, higher reward
??? Trait Unlock
Choose Wisely. Decision Pending.
---