I walked beside Erik toward the castle's entrance, turning the coming meeting over in my head. Could I take the dungeon by force? Absolutely. Why didn't I? Because this time I had to be prudent. Erik Telfordia had ties—loose threads that led, if tugged too hard, toward the imperial family. I could crush them in minutes, yes, but the old monsters behind the throne would make me pay. I did not make enemies without need. Besides, there was one among them I did not entirely despise.
In practice, the imperial court usually ignored a province-level seizure; kingdoms were largely autonomous, and nobles spent their days scheming for scraps of influence. But kill the wrong person—let blood touch the wrong branch of the imperial tree—and the situation shifted. If Erik had told anyone, the place would already be swarming with imperial guards. He hadn't. That told me everything I needed to know.
The castle foyer was predictably garish: polished hardwood floors, a sweeping staircase, a crystal chandelier like a fallen star, and gold and jewels piled like an insult. Typical noble display—flash without worth.
Between the staff clustered in the hall stood Erik's family: a wife and a boy. The queen, Lisa Telfordia, wore the usual gilded gown and jewels, her brown hair pinned perfectly. A crease of nerves carved her brow. The boy—Mark—looked like he might soil himself; brown hair from his mother, cold azure eyes that mirrored his father's. Silk slacks and fine fabric couldn't hide his pride. If you're arrogant, at least prove it with strength, I thought.
As we neared, they dropped to their knees. The queen intoned on their behalf, "Your Excellency, the One Blessed by the Light—these humble ones greet you. I am Lisa Telfordia, and this is my son, Mark."
I inclined my head. "Rise."
They rose. I turned to Erik. "Let us discuss business. Pleasantries can follow."
He led the way to a private chamber. Outside the door I stopped and said to my guard, "Wait here. Diablo, come."
He smirked and followed.
Inside, we sat opposite each other; Diablo remained behind my chair. Erik's voice came fast and strained. "Your Excellency—if you would be so kind—may I ask why you have come?"
I don't do subtlety. I never have. "I'm here for the Grand Dungeon within your domain," I said plainly.
Diablo's brow arched; the king's disbelief was immediate. Erik coughed, forcing a laugh. "I… I don't know how you know. It was discovered but a day ago."
Flattery. Predictable. I let a sliver of my aura temper my words. "Erik, do not test me. Answer honestly, or I will raze this kingdom. Do not assume your connection to the emperor will save you."
He straightened, face paling. "I meant no offense, Your Excellency. I—no. Yes. I found a Grand Dungeon. I was on my way to inform the imperial family when you arrived."
"So you planned to seek imperial protection in exchange for a cut of the spoils?" I asked.
"Yes," he admitted, voice small.
I considered, then decided. "I will secure and protect the dungeon. In return, Luminosity receives seventy percent of the profits. Non-negotiable."
His body tensed. Reluctantly, he nodded. "Very well, Your Excellency. Should I draw up a magi-contract?"
"Yes." I rose as he did. "Diablo will handle the contract and logistics."
Was I abusing power? Certainly. Did I feel guilt? Not for nobles. They took without thought; they fed on people. If rebalancing the scales required an iron fist, so be it.
I turned toward the door, intending to sample the castle's finest wine while Diablo arranged the details. Then something pricked the back of my awareness — a pulse, faint and intimate. Blood resonance. What the—?
I snapped my head toward the window overlooking the city, eyes honing in on a distant signal buried among the market noises and chant of life below. It was subtle, but distinct.
Diablo noticed my shift and stepped forward, voice steady but urgent. "Your Excellency?"
"Nothing," I said, too quickly. "Continue with the arrangements. I will return." I lifted my hand; the air fractured like glass and reformed, and the room blurred away.
For a moment, watching the castle solidify around a gap where I'd stood, I couldn't help the thought that fate, or whatever thread bound force governs this world, had begun to tug at mine.