The moonlight spilled through the high, arched windows of Everhart, pale silver slicing through the darkened halls. The echoes of festival laughter had faded to silence, leaving only whispers lingering in the stone corridors. Andy followed Nia into the council chamber, the sound of his boots too loud in the heavy stillness.
The chamber was not vast like the great hall, but its weight was greater. A round table dominated the center, its oak surface polished to a mirror sheen. Above, chandeliers dripped with candles, their flames trembling faintly, casting long shadows that clung to the nobles gathered in clusters. Silks rustled, jewels gleamed, and eyes sharper than blades turned toward them.
Andy felt the weight of those gazes immediately. He had faced shadow beasts, hunters, dragons—but never this: a war fought not with claws or steel, but with measured tones and sharpened words. His chest tightened, each whisper a dagger.
"…a bond of spectacle, yes, but unstable."
"…the fire nearly slipped beyond control."
"…and yet, the System acknowledged them."
The murmurs crawled along the walls, echoing in his skull. He wanted to unsheathe his blades, to cut the whispers into silence. But steel had no place here.
At the head of the table sat Lord Everhart. Cloaked in silver, his face was carved in marble, eyes as sharp as winter steel. He said nothing, yet his silence carried more command than any decree. His gaze swept the room, pausing briefly on Andy, cold and calculating.
Then, the chamber shifted.
Kayla entered.
She glided across the floor as though the light bent to her, golden gown shimmering like molten sun. Her beauty disarmed, her smile softened suspicions. Nobles turned instinctively, whispers falling away, drawn to her like moths to flame.
"My lords, my ladies," Kayla said, her voice smooth, melodic. She bowed her head slightly, humility painted on her lips though her golden eyes glittered. "We all saw the bond today. A fire so bright, a passion so fierce. Truly, it was… unforgettable."
Murmurs of agreement rippled, some nodding. Andy's fists tightened. She's setting the stage.
Kayla's voice softened, rich with concern. "And yet… is it not true that fire, untamed, consumes all it touches? That bonds too fierce can strangle rather than strengthen?"
The words slithered into the room, poison wrapped in silk.
"She is right. Fire warms, but also burns."
"Dragonblood cannot be trusted."
"But… the Circle acknowledged them. Can we deny it?"
Andy's jaw clenched. He wanted to speak, to fight—but Nia's hand brushed his, grounding him. This was not his battlefield.
Kayla's golden eyes lingered on him, gentle as a lover's gaze, sharp as a knife beneath. She tilted her head, her voice sweet as honey. "Lady Nia's devotion is undeniable. But it is her light that restrains him. We all saw it. What happens, my lords, if that light falters? When dragonblood runs free?"
Gasps rippled. Andy froze. She knows.
The whispers grew louder, more urgent.
"He lost control before?"
"What else is being hidden?"
"Dragonblood is corruption waiting to bloom."
Andy's chest burned. Shame and rage twisted within him. He wanted to deny it, but his throat locked.
Then Nia stepped forward.
Her silver gown shimmered, her staff glowed with moonlight. She looked every inch the heir of Everhart—radiant, resolute. Her voice rang across the chamber, clear and steady as steel.
"Our bond is not danger," she declared. "It is unity. Fire tempered by light. Light strengthened by fire. That is what you saw today. That is what the System itself affirmed. To deny that is to deny Everhart's legacy."
Her aura flared faintly, silver light pulsing. Some nobles faltered, caught between her certainty and Kayla's honeyed poison.
Kayla smiled softly, lowering her lashes. "Perhaps you are right, Lady Nia. Perhaps the flame warms, perhaps it does not. Time will show us."
Her golden gaze flicked toward Andy, a spark of cruel amusement hidden in warmth. She had planted the seed, and she knew it.
Lord Everhart raised his hand. The chamber stilled at once. His gaze swept the nobles, lingering on Andy with a weight that made his chest tighten. Not judgment. Calculation.
"Let the factions form," Lord Everhart said, voice cold as ice. "Through trial, truth endures. The Circle has spoken. Everhart watches. Time will decide."
The nobles stirred eagerly. Some drifted toward Kayla, others toward Nia, many hung uncertain. Whispers erupted, sharper than before.
Andy's stomach churned. For every nod given to Nia, another leaned toward Kayla. It was not a battle—it was a war. A war of smiles and shadows.
The System's voice stirred in his mind, steady and cold.
System Notice: Factions detected.
Political Resonance engaged.
Bond Progression: Star 2 – 27%.
Andy exhaled shakily, eyes drawn to Nia. She stood unyielding, silver eyes blazing with resolve. Her fingers tightened around his.
"You see?" she murmured, just for him. "It doesn't matter how many shadows whisper. We'll burn brighter. Together."
He nodded, though unease still gnawed at him. He had fought with blades, with fire, with strength. But this—this was new. This was war fought with words, with perception, with poison.
And as Kayla's laughter, soft and sweet, rippled faintly through the chamber, Andy realized with a cold weight in his chest:
This war had only just begun.