The Dirrium kingdom act 10
The Academy Ball was a sea of shimmering silk and false pleasantries, but for Leornars, it was a hunting ground. To strike at House Vane, he first needed their location—the "vultures' nest."
Moving through the ballroom, Leornars played the role of the charming, slightly naive student to perfection. He cornered a junior clerk from the Land Registry near the punch bowl.
"It's a shame about the commute," Leornars remarked casually, swirling his drink. "I heard the Vane estate is so remote that the invitation couriers often get lost. Such a beautiful manor, though."
The clerk, eager to show off his knowledge to the Academy's star pupil, chuckled. "Remote? Hardly. Count Vane moved his primary residence to the Opal District, just behind the Cathedral. The one with the black iron gates and the weeping willow. He prefers to be close to the counting houses."
Leornars smiled, a cold spark in his eyes. "Ah, the Opal District. How convenient."
An hour later, Leornars stood in the Count's private study. He hadn't knocked; he had simply appeared, stepping out of the shadows as Count Vane was pouring a glass of expensive brandy.
"Who the hell are you?" Vane gasped, the decanter rattling against the glass.
"A ghost of your past transgressions," Leornars said, stepping into the lamplight. He dropped a thick folder onto the Count's desk. It contained sketches of a certain necklace and the exact coordinates where three grain ships had "disappeared."
Vane's face went from indignant red to a sickly, pale white. "The Auditor... You're the one who broke Hildas."
"Hildas was a blunt instrument. I prefer precision," Leornars said, leaning over the desk. "I know you've been skimming the King's grain to fund your lifestyle. If I hand this to my judges, you'll be sharing a cell with Hildas by sunrise."
Vane sank into his chair, his hands trembling. "What do you want? Gold? I can pay."
"I don't want your scraps, Count. I want a partner." Leornars tapped the ledger. "You will stop stealing from the King. Instead, you will buy your grain exclusively from me. I have ships coming in from the neutral territories. You will sell this grain to the people at a premium, and we will split the profit. I get my cut, you keep your head, and the King remains none the wiser that his 'loyal' noble is trading in black-market wheat."
Vane looked trapped. "But if the King finds out..."
"The King only sees what I allow him to see," Leornars whispered. "Sign the contract, Count. It's much cheaper than a scaffold."
With a shaking hand, Vane signed.
As Leornars left the Opal District, Stacian emerged from the darkness of a nearby alley.
"The deal is done," Leornars informed her. "Vane is our puppet now. But he let something slip during his panicked rambling."
"The Nobility Crisis?" Stacian asked.
Leornars nodded. "The kingdom is a house divided. On one side, the Royal Family, clinging to their divine right and the military. On the other, the Ducal Houses—Vane, and the others—who control the coin and the trade. They aren't working together; they're waiting for the other to bleed out."
He looked up at the moon, a sharp, predatory grin crossing his face.
"The King thinks I'm his loyal bloodhound, sniffing out corruption to save his throne. The Dukes now think I'm their secret supplier, helping them bypass the King's taxes. I am feeding both sides of a war that hasn't started yet."
"You're trading with the butcher and the cattle," Stacian noted.
"And when they finally clash," Leornars said, clicking his silver pen, "I'll be the only one left holding the keys to the kingdom."