Lucien stood motionless as the towering double doors of the grand hall creaked open. The familiar scent of polished stone and ancient wood greeted him... this was the heart of the Balmore estate, the main hall where matters of great importance were settled.
The space was massive, columns lining the sides like silent sentinels. Banners of the Balmore family fluttered gently from the high ceiling, casting long shadows across the cold marble floor.
A semicircle of seated nobles, advisors, and vassals stared down at him from the raised dais, their expressions ranging from indifference to disapproval to veiled satisfaction.
He recognized many of them... powerful men and women, most bound by blood or long-standing loyalty which he honestly doubt. At the centre sat his father, Count Balmore, face unreadable.
To his left sat Baron Halvor, face twisted in restrained fury. And beside him, a girl stood with downcast eyes... pale, shaking. Her bruises still visible beneath her veil.
Lucien was shoved forward. His knees struck the stone floor.
The hall fell silent.
A herald stepped forth, unrolling a scroll with exaggerated ceremony.
"Lucien Balmore, First son of House Balmore. You stand accused of grave crimes against this house and its honour."
Each word dropped like a hammer.
"You are accused of violating Lady Elara Thorne, the betrothed of your younger brother, Cassian Balmore."
Gasps echoed through the chamber. Lucien's stomach twisted, but he said nothing.
"You are accused of treason... selling information to rival territories, endangering our military operations on the eastern border."
"You are accused of colluding with bandits, orchestrating raids on villages under Balmore protection."
Lucien didn't flinch. He already knew none of this mattered. Truth had long since drowned in politics.
"The evidence," the herald continued, "though insufficient to warrant execution... except in the matter of the Lady Elara... has been deemed enough to strip you of all rights and privileges of this house. You will be exiled."
The words reverberated through him like a distant bell tolling for his death.
"You are to be sent to the capital, to reside under the custody of your maternal grandfather, Lord George Vaelstrom."
Lucien's mind immediately pieced it together.
Of course.
It was not an act of mercy on the part of his family.
It was calculation. Just pure politics.
His maternal grandfather held control over one of, if not the wealthiest merchant leagues in the region. His father could not afford to lose that alliance... especially with the nobles waiting like vultures for his house to fall. If Lucien were executed, the Vaelstrom would definitely retaliate.
So instead, they exiled him.
Remove him without drawing blood.
And by sending him far away from the heart of the county, they created the perfect opening for Cassian to consolidate power.
When the dust settled, Lucien would either rot in obscurity since he wasn't next in line to inherit the merchant group or return too late to change anything. That was the true sentence.
A different voice rang out... Count Edric himself.
"If he ever dares set foot in this county without being summoned by official decree, he is to be killed on sight."
Lucien met his gaze. There was no room for sympathy. Not from any of them.
The Count's voice followed, cold and measured.
"Do you object to this verdict?"
Lucien lowered his head.
"No."
"And do you have anything to say in your defence?"
Lucien hesitated. Speaking wouldn't clear his name. Not today.
But still…
"Allow me to take my sword and armour. And… my maid."
A pause.
A noble on the side scoffed.
The Count responded, his tone final.
"You may take your sword and armour. You will be granted one hundred gold coins and an escort for your journey," the Count declared, his voice cold and final.
"But the maid serves this household. She will not be leaving with you."
Lucien swallowed the sharp retort that surged to his lips.
One hundred gold coins... for banishment?
It was almost laughable.
But he knew better than to argue. That would only earn him another charge. No, there was still one card left to play.
Since they weren't planning to show him any mercy it was time to go nuclear.
His mother hadn't earned the title 'The Coin seer' for nothing.
Liora Vaelstrom had doubled her family's wealth in less than a decade during her tenure as an active merchant. She was brilliant, ruthless, and above all, prepared.
From the moment Lucien was born, she ensured that, no matter what storm came, he would never be left entirely destitute.
She had loved the Count... foolishly, perhaps... but never blindly. She'd known he didn't truly return her affection. So she set contingency plans in motion, safeguards only a true merchant of her calibre could design.
The Vaelstrom merchant group had long operated in Balmore County, but they were no vassals. Liora made certain of that. She built the branch here from the ground up, and through her father's blessing, secured Lucien right as its heir and she made sure the Count had no claim to it.
More importantly, she made the Balmore family dependent... desperately dependent... on her merchant group.
It wasn't difficult.
Years ago, when Balmore was still a duchy, they had grown ambitious, emboldened by their victories against the Shattered Plains.
The Balmore army, swelled by new territories and resources, had even managed to gather five fighters of the Fifth Rank, elite among elites.
They dared to dream of independence.
But the royal family crushed that dream.
A war broke out. Three of Balmore's Masters perished. The royals lost just as many, but they still held the upper hand.
Forced into a humiliating truce, the Balmore family was stripped of its lands, demoted from duchy to mere county. The two surviving Masters were confined to the capital under house arrest
The nobles who inherited Balmore's former lands closed their borders, boycotted the family, and isolated them economically. The county once rich became barren, without trade and resources. The royal family offered no aid, and fertile lands were lost for good.
It was at that critical moment that Liora Vaelstrom stepped in.
With her connections and coin, she reopened Balmore's trade routes but kept them firmly under her control. She helped them survive... kept them from being reduced to barons.
And in doing so, she made herself and her merchant group indispensable.
The Count could cast Lucien out, yes. But not without consequence.
And Lucien knew it.
The Count had miscalculated. He hadn't realized how deep Liora's safeguard against him was.
And Lucien could understand the reason and it was a quite simple one.
His mother had died when he was just six and his father was made his legal guardian automatically making him his legal representative.
This gave him partial control over the Vaelstrom merchant group in his county, but the moment Lucien turned 16 years old he lost that control.
Or rather he should have lost it.
On the morning of his 16th birthday he received a letter asking him to take charge of the Vaelstrom Merchant group, but he had refused and instead let his father continue to lead it, he still hoped for the fatherly love but now he had lost that hope.
Lucien took a few seconds to think.
'Well I guess this is it then.'
Lucien turned to face the Vaelstrom merchant elders seated among the crowd.
"Elders," he said calmly, his voice steady despite the tension in the hall. "As I have been stripped of my status as a member of House Balmore and exiled from this land, I hereby request that my representative be changed... from Count Balmore to my maid."
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
A ripple of laughter swept through the hall. Nobles and onlookers broke in a massive laughter.
But the amusement quickly faded when the onlookers realised that the Vaelstrom elders weren't laughing.
The Vaelstrom elders, once passive observers, straightened in their seats. Their expressions grew solemn. They exchanged glances, silent yet decisive, before rising in unison.
With a respectful bow, the eldest among them spoke.
"As you wish, Young Master."
The hall fell into hushed silence.