"My name is Cassiar Vermillion."
The syllables fell neatly, smoothly, with the kind of weight only old families carried.
Elara felt the name settle against her like a slow, spreading chill. Vermillion.
Of course she knew it. Everyone did. The Vermillions weren't just noble—they were influential. Old money, old blood, and older politics. Their domain sat close to the capital's inner circle, tied to trade routes and the Tower Council itself.
"Vermillion," she repeated quietly, more to herself than him.
The name carried too much history to sound harmless.
She remembered the records—Eveline had made her memorize the major houses once, for "self-preservation disguised as courtesy." The Vermillions had always stood out. A Marquis house by title, but their influence reached well beyond their supposed station.
Rune mages.
Masters of enchantment and artifice.
