"Prince Draeven! Quick! We must prepare the courtyard! Get the staff lined up! No mistakes! No one is to look him in the eye! Inform the cook to have refreshments ready, the finest we have! Move, man! Move!"
Aldus barked, already snatching his velvet jacket from the rack.
'This could be a disaster or an immense opportunity,' he thought, pushing down a tremor of fear.
'The frightening prince of the Morvaines is at my door. I must be perfect.'
He made sure he arrived early at the front and saw the entourage was nearing.
The rumble of the heavy wheels and the rhythmic clip-clop of the warhorses were a powerful, intimidating sound.
He took a deep breath and prepared himself, plastering a welcoming, yet deeply respectful, expression onto his face.
Baron Aldus was a true warrior and survived countless wars.
He had earned his title in blood and sweat, not through court favors.
In a world where the one with power was at the top, he didn't lack one to be fit as a baron.
He stood tall, his internal strength a steady beacon.
The power ranks, starting from Mortal as the beginning to Awakened, Exemplar, Paragon, Zenith, Transcendent, and Apex as the strongest, were a simple measure of worth.
The Baron was a genuine Exemplar Rank, a powerful warrior who could easily hold his own against lower-ranked foes.
He was sure of his strength until he saw the prince stepping out of the carriage.
Draeven Vaelir de Morvaine emerged like a figure carved from ice and fire, his scarlet hair brilliant against the dark carriage interior.
That aura... He was trembling.
It wasn't the open, aggressive aura of a martial warrior, but a cold, pervasive pressure that settled on his chest, instantly making the Exemplar feel like a nervous peasant.
'As expected of a Morvaine... Powerful...' he thought, attributing the feeling to the renowned, crushing strength of the ducal family.
He maintained his calm and quickly welcomed the prince.
He performed the required courtesies, bowing low, his voice formal and precise, determined not to give offense.
The thing was smooth going, the Prince's replies clipped but expected, but suddenly another surge of invisible force swept through him, making him go blank for a moment.
It was a momentary white-out, a split second where his mind felt utterly subjugated, his conscious thought wiped clean.
He felt it but didn't know what it was.
The pressure wasn't the familiar aggression of a Mana flare or a direct Aura attack; it was something foreign, something that bypassed his combat defenses and went straight for his will.
'Is the prince intimidating me?' he questioned, quickly reviving his mental defenses.
The aura was not directly went to him, so he didn't consider that idea.
He was certain the Prince's eyes hadn't even met his when the second, more crushing wave hit.
It must have been an unintentional release of the young noble's immense, yet unstable, power.
He straightened up, pouring every ounce of his Exemplar strength into maintaining his composure, determined to see this short, terrifying visit through.
***
The stay was good.
Baron Aldus was a whirlwind of nervous deference, ensuring my brief rest was nothing short of perfection.
The place was not up to my estate's standard, lacking the sheer magnitude and priceless antiquity of the Western Retreat, but it was still considered luxury.
The refreshments were excellent, the courtyard quiet and well-maintained.
Was it okay to delay my travel like this?
The Grand Duke had commanded my attendance, and extending a short rest might be seen as an act of casual disrespect.
I thought it was okay.
The time cushion for the journey was massive, and my health was the only true priority.
An hour's delay for the sake of emotional stability was a worthwhile trade-off.
Well... I decided to give it another fifteen minutes.
Oh, who was this?
My attention was drawn by a new arrival.
I was seated at a small stone table in the center of the courtyard, sipping cool fruit juice while my guards maintained a vigilant perimeter.
A young man who looked like my age appeared alone.
He was the Baron's son.
He walked with a quiet confidence that was immediately distinct from the frantic energy of his father.
He stopped a respectful distance away and waited for me to acknowledge him.
I set down my cup and gave a fractional nod.
"You are?"
He bowed, a deep, proper gesture, but his posture remained straight, and his eyes met mine briefly and without fear.
"Prince Draeven. I am Cassian Aldus, the Baron's eldest son. My father sent me to inquire if there is anything further you require during your brief respite."
We exchanged pleasantries.
It was a formal, yet surprisingly easy conversation.
I asked about the commerce in Veridian, and he answered intelligently, describing the local exports and tax structure with a knowledge that suggested training, not just rote memorization.
"The town seems prosperous, Cassian," I stated.
"That is due to the foresight of House Morvaine and my father's dedication, Your Highness. We strive to be worthy of your rule."
Hmm, he was good.
The young man showed deference but not abject fear.
He was not like his father, not much intimidated by me.
The general anxiety I constantly induced was present in his stance, but he pushed past it with a clear effort of will.
Has he got a good endurance?
Or perhaps a higher-than-average Willpower attribute, I wondered, mentally comparing him to my own A-Rank.
He was the first person I had met who's not affected by fear or wasn't overwhelmed, even after my subtle, earlier use of Silent Dominion.
I like him.
It was a startling thought.
I hadn't liked anyone in a long time.
There was something refreshing about his composure, his refusal to crumble under the oppressive weight of my rank and my trait.
"You may remain," I told him, a curt, unsolicited command. "Tell me more about the river trade."
It was my way of signaling that I found his company tolerable.
We began talking about small things to sensitive ones.
I found myself listening intently, the cold, analytical part of my mind absorbing the details of his life while the detached, human part found the narrative surprisingly engaging.
"The river trade is steady," Cassian explained, leaning slightly on the stone table, his posture relaxed now that I had given him permission to stay.
"But the local garrison captain is delaying shipments, citing poor road conditions as an excuse to demand higher tariffs. My father suspects the captain is trying to set up a personal toll."
"Bribery and incompetence," I commented, my tone flat. "A common theme in local governance."
He chuckled softly. "Indeed, Your Highness. It is a daily struggle to ensure the people receive justice when men seek to line their own pockets. Dealing with such men is the constant burden of an heir."
He sighed, letting a hint of genuine frustration show.
"I would prefer to focus on infrastructure, but half my days are spent untangling my father's diplomatic knots."
I gave him a slow nod of acknowledgement, prompting him to continue.
"And then there is my younger brother, Lias," Cassian added, his voice dropping slightly, "who is a trouble maker. He refuses to take his training seriously, spends his allowance on questionable ventures in the capital, and last month managed to insult the daughter of a minor Count—an apology that cost my father a small fortune in silver and pride."
"An uncooperative sibling," I observed, finding a strange resonance with his complaints, despite my own brothers being powerful men, not delinquents.
"Is he unaware of the necessity of discretion?"
Cassian shook his head. "He simply doesn't care. He believes his position shields him from all consequence. He doesn't understand the pressure, the constant need for caution that comes with being responsible for a thousand lives."
I paused, allowing the weight of his words to settle.
The contrast was stark: Cassian was burdened by the responsibility of his Baron title, while I was shielded by the terrifying power and concern of my Grand Duke title.
Yet, we both experienced the friction of high expectations and difficult family members.
"Consequences always come," I stated, my eyes meeting his.
The sudden, intense focus of my gaze must have been amplified by my passive Silent Dominion, because Cassian stiffened, his previous composure faltering for a fleeting second.
"They are merely delayed for the powerful."
"A truth I hope to teach him before it is too late," he murmured, quickly recovering his poise.
His resilience to my involuntary aura was still impressive.
I found myself wanting to keep talking to him.
He was a safe, surprisingly stable anchor in this volatile new world.