A heavy silence hung over the table. Nobody moved to pick up their utensils, let alone resume eating. Kael looked as if he were holding his breath, while Ronan kept his eyes glued firmly to his bread.
Malrik slowly cut a piece of meat on his plate, the soft clink of his knife against porcelain echoing clearly in the dead room. He didn’t look up immediately.
"You are late for dinner, Miss Shaye," Malrik said, setting his fork down. "Though considering you weren’t invited, I suppose punctuality doesn’t matter."
Shaye let out a soft chuckle, entirely unbothered by the cold reception. She tilted her head slightly, her golden eyes drifting toward the woman sitting to Malrik’s right.
"My apologies. I was admiring the massive walls outside," Shaye said smoothly. "The garrison soldiers were practically singing praises in the courtyard. They call you a goddess, Miss Lily."
Lilith didn’t bother looking up from her wine. She casually twirled the dark liquid inside her glass, her tone completely flat.
"People in backwater fortresses get excited over simple things," Lilith said dismissively. "They’re only walls. I hardly consider them an accomplishment."
Shaye’s smile didn’t waver, though her golden eyes sharpened for a split second. She turned her attention back to Malrik.
"Modesty is a rare trait," Shaye said. "Still, walls alone won’t stop the Morveth if they march out of the woods tonight. Your garrison looks exhausted, Seventh Banner Bearer. If you require assistance, Jace and my knights can easily reinforce your defenses."
Malrik saw through it immediately.
This was the first thread she was pulling. By reminding everyone of the threat outside, she was planting fear in their minds, then presenting her own people as the answer.
"The banner of House Vesperion still flies over Blackthorn," Malrik replied, his voice devoid of emotion. "The defense of Blackthorn is our responsibility. Guests are expected to enjoy their meal, not perform duty."
Shaye let out a quiet sigh, as if amused by his stubbornness. Her gaze drifted down the length of the table, landing on Seren, who sat frozen beside Ronan.
Shaye’s gaze drifted down the length of the table, landing on Seren, who sat frozen beside Ronan.
"By the way," Shaye asked smoothly, "which house do you belong to, my lady?"
Seren stiffened, clearing her throat slightly before answering. "House Valmere."
Shaye tilted her head, a faint, polite smile on her lips. "Forgive me, I haven’t heard of it before. Where are you from?"
"From the Marquisate of Ashmore," Seren replied, keeping her voice carefully neutral.
"Ah, I see," Shaye said with a gentle nod, dismissing the minor house with effortless grace.
"I couldn’t help but overhear your earlier conversation," Shaye continued softly, her tone dripping with gentle concern. "You mentioned a Poison Law Seed? The Lumel Temple’s vaults hold several rare law structures in the capital. If you are in need, Lady Seren, I could easily request one to be delivered for you."
Seren’s breath hitched in her throat. Accepting meant placing her team under an obligation to the Temple—a direct insult to House Vesperion while sitting at Malrik’s table. Refusing outright risked offending the daughter of the Pope.
Before Seren could open her mouth, Malrik’s voice cut through the air, sharp and decisive.
"Lady Seren and her squad fought for Blackthorn," Malrik said, drawing Shaye’s gaze back to himself. "Their compensation will come from House Vesperion. There is no need for the Lumel Temple to hand out charity at my table."
Shaye raised her eyebrows in mild surprise, covering her lips with a small, delicate hand as she let out a light laugh.
"Charity? You misjudge my intentions, Young Master Malrik," Shaye said playfully. "I only worry about your standing. What would your fiancée, Lady Selene Goldmere, think if she heard you were being so harsh to your guests?"
Malrik’s expression didn’t change. He held her gaze across the table, his fingers resting lightly against his glass.
"Selene understands the realities of the borderlands," Malrik said evenly. "She also knows that House Vesperion doesn’t ask for help unless it intends to pay for it."
Shaye leaned back slightly, her golden eyes scanning the quiet hall. Her gaze lingered on Kael’s pale face, then on the exhausted posture of Ronan’s mercenaries.
"Is that so?" Shaye murmured. She tapped her slender fingers against the mahogany table. "Because from where I sit, Blackthorn will barely last seventy-two hours once the Morveth launch a full siege. Pride is an expensive luxury, Young Master."
She paused, a thoughtful smile spreading across her lips.
"Since you are so confident in your garrison, why don’t we settle this like proper nobles?"
Shaye reached into her gold-trimmed mantle and pulled out a narrow, silver-bound scroll. The parchment was faint crimson, inscribed with shimmering runic borders that throbbed with a faint, immutable pressure.
Kael’s eyes widened as soon as he saw it. "A Grand Covenant..." he whispered under his breath.
It was a High-Noble Binding Contract—a legendary magical artifact crafted by the Empire’s judicial enchanters. Once signed with mana, its terms were etched directly into the souls of the signatories.
The penalties were absolute and auto-enforced by the fundamental laws of the world. Not even a Saint could break a Grand Covenant without suffering severe soul backfire.
Shaye unrolled the crimson scroll onto the center of the table.
"A simple wager," Shaye said smoothly. "Three days. Seventy two hours from this moment. "
"If Blackthorn Fortress, under your command, requests or accepts outside military assistance from any faction, whether it be the Lumel Temple, the main armies of House Vesperion, or any third party military force, you lose. You will fulfill one formal request of my choosing, strictly bounded by the Covenant’s equity clause."
Just as Shaye finished presenting the terms, a translucent blue notification flashed directly in front of Malrik’s vision.
[ Your soul ’Biggie’ has successfully evolved. ]
Malrik stared at the floating notification for a brief moment. The corner of his lips instinctively curled into a smile, but he quickly suppressed it.
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