"Rubbish!" Duke Evernight barked, slamming his palm against the table so hard that the wood rattled. His voice cut through the chamber, echoing off the stone walls. The nobles flinched, not from the sound, but from the fury that rolled off him like a storm.
Dorian did not even twitch. He sat where he was, one leg crossed over the other, eyes calmly fixed on the furious duke. "If I recall correctly, since I arrived here, it's been childish arguments concerning his land and not his death" Dorian said softly, before adverting his gaze to Lord Herbert. "Why don't you fill us in on what happened?".
"You should learn some manners" Evernight shot back, his tone sharp enough to cut. "Duke William's death is tragic, yes, but don't make it seem as though someone had a hand in it."
Lord Herbert cleared his throat, trying to settle the matter, though his gaze flickered nervously between the two men. "Duke William was found yesterday, in his chambers. No wounds, no marks, no signs of a struggle. His body… looked as though he had simply gone to sleep and never returned."
"See?" Evernight seized on it instantly, lifting his chin. "A natural death. And yet here we are, with Lord Dorian spinning tales, trying to accuse others falsely."
Dorian leaned back in his chair, his smirk slow and deliberate. "So fast, Duke Evernight. Almost… eager, I'd say. I don't recall accusing anyone. I only said no one here seemed curious about how he died." He tapped the table lightly with one finger. "But I know this much, if a vampire closes his eyes at dawn and does not rise with the next nightfall, it is rarely natural. You'd know that too, wouldn't you?"
A hush fell over the chamber. The nobles shifted uneasily, whispers rising like insects buzzing in the background.
Evernight's nostrils flared. "You dare—"
"I do more than dare," Dorian interrupted smoothly, his golden eyes glinting under the dim light. "For all I know, if the later Duke's Lands are merged, they will fall exactly under your domain. Fertile soil, rivers brimming with silver fish, fields that never rot… tempting, isn't it? Too tempting for a man like you."
A few nobles gasped. Some leaned closer, eyes narrowing at Evernight as if they had just noticed something they hadn't before.
"You insolent—" Evernite half-rose from his chair, moving with the quickness of a predator at the words Dorian uttered, his hand twitched at his side, but he stopped suddenly, His eyes widened just a fraction as Dorian's gaze darkened, flashing gold for the briefest moment. A dangerous shimmer, inhuman and sharp, that forced him to pause.
Dorian never moved, still seated casually as if the chamber belonged to him. There was a great silence as the air hung with anticipation, but even after moments, nothing happened "Please, Duke Evernight," he said softly, his voice carrying mockery wrapped in velvet. "Be seated. You shouldn't stress your legs standing when you're not going to do anything."
The duke's jaw clenched. For a long second, the room held its breath. Then, with visible strain, Evernighte lowered himself back into his chair, which was once again humiliating to the Duke.
"I no longer ponder on where Leopold got his Idiocracy from" he said nodding his head slightly.
"You aren't even a Lord " marquee Evander said to Dorian, raising the topic that no one ever really talked about, but always pondered on "Yet you are addressed as one, allowed to partake in private discussions held". Others didn't say anything, but their ears sharpened waiting for what Dorian would say.
"marquee Evander you–" Lord Herbert didn't get to finish his words as Dorian cut in.
"You want to know why I'm addressed as Lord?" Dorian asked his voice going a few octaves lower. "Herbert" he said dropping the honorifics, "Should I tell him?" he asked but his tone already having a playful edge to it. He noticed how Lord Herbert became uncomfortable in his seat. "no worry, that'd be a subject for another day" he said his tone light which made it possible for the rest to calm down and breathe.
"About the land" count Duskbane said as though wanting to reduce the tension. "We s–"
"The death of Duke William would be taken to the high council for investigation". He said without regarding the others seated, his tone filled with authority.
"You have no right to unilaterally decide that!, it's not in your place" Duke Evernight yellled again, standing up swiftly that his chair fell backwards, already don with Dorian's attitude.
"It isn't?" Dorian asked before his face became serious, all traces of smile leaving. "Why don't you repeat yourself ". His tone was so cold that everyone began finding it hard to say a word.
Lord Herbert exhaled and quickly tried to seize control. "Enough! The matter of Duke William's death shall be referred to the High Council for investigation. That is final."
Dorian rose smoothly, pushing back his chair with a scrape that seemed louder than it should have been, already turning to leave.
"The meeting isn't over!" Marquee Evander barked from across the table.
Dorian stopped at the doorway and turned his head just enough for them to see the sly smile playing at his lips. "It is for me." His eyes flickered to Lord Herbert for half a second.
Without waiting for reply, he swept out of the chamber, his steps unhurried but his presence still pressing down on everyone like a shadow long after he had gone.
The moment the heavy doors shut, murmurs erupted. Marquis Evander leaned toward Lord Albert, voice sharp with disgust. "Did you see that? The arrogance, the disrespect. He acts as though the entire realm bends to his will."
Others nodded in agreement, their voices blending into a chorus of complaints. Yet beneath their words, a sliver of doubt gnawed at them, the image of Dorian's glowing eyes and Evernight's brief hesitation replaying again and again in their minds, but what caught their attention was the fact that Lord Herbert, who was the highest of the Lords actually did as Dorian said.
Duke Evernight said nothing more aloud, but in the silence of his thoughts he made a promise "He will know his place, soon"
---
By the time Dorian's carriage pulled into the courtyard of his Gothic mansion, his expression was unreadable. Shadows draped the tall spires of the house, and the carved gargoyles seemed almost alive in the fading light. Another carriage stood waiting at the steps.
He frowned faintly, he had invited no one.
Inside, Head Maid Margaret hurried forward, her tone respectful but stiff. "My lord, Lady Eliza is waiting for you in the drawing room."
Dorian's eyes shifted briefly toward the clock on the wall, was it afternoon already, He recalled his promise to her, but she had come earlier than expected. His lips curved slightly whether in annoyance or curiosity, no one could tell.