The Lavelle estate was alive with activity as the final preparations for the gathering began. Servants scurried about, finalizing details, while nobles moved through the halls with a sense of purpose. Noir walked among them, his sharp eyes catching the tension in their movements. He had been watching everything for days now, and the more he observed, the more he realized how delicate the balance of power truly was.
Every interaction, every glance held meaning. The nobles of House Lavelle moved with an air of composure, but Noir knew better. The Lavelle family's future was uncertain, and the coming gathering wasn't just a test of alliances—it was something far more dangerous.
…..
Later, Noir found himself alone with Lord Lavelle in the study. His father's face was drawn, his brow furrowed as he poured over letters and documents.
"The gathering will be the most important event of our generation," Lord Lavelle said, not looking up from the papers. "We cannot afford any mistakes. If we show weakness—"
"They'll devour us," Noir finished for him. He had heard this line many times in the past few days, but now, standing here, he felt the weight of it differently.
Lord Lavelle glanced up, surprised by the firmness in Noir's voice. "Exactly," he said. "House Vale will be watching closely. They're already gaining influence, forming alliances that could destabilize us."
Noir nodded, but his mind was already processing the situation differently. "This isn't just a political test, Father," he said, his voice measured. "They're going to weigh our value. It's not just about whether we can form alliances. They'll be looking at us—Lilia and me—deciding if we're worth keeping around."
Lord Lavelle blinked, taken aback by the insight in Noir's words. "What do you mean?"
Noir shrugged slightly, downplaying his own thoughts. "I've just been listening. You always say to pay attention to what people don't say as much as what they do. If I were them, I'd be trying to figure out if the Lavelle heirs are worth supporting."
Lord Lavelle stared at him for a long moment, clearly unsettled by his son's sudden maturity. Noir decided to steer the conversation away before his father grew too suspicious.
"You always say to keep friends at arm's length," Noir said, his tone casual. "I'd argue you should keep them even further away. Friends, enemies—whoever. They can shift with the wind. The person who's your enemy today might be the ally you need tomorrow."
Lord Lavelle's frown deepened, but he nodded slowly, taking the advice to heart. "Wise words, Eryk," he muttered. "Let's hope we don't need them too soon."
…..
As Noir walked through the estate later that afternoon, he found Lilia waiting for him near the main hall. Her arms were crossed, her eyes hard as she studied him. The tension between them had only grown since the attack on the estate, and Noir knew she was still suspicious of him.
"We need to talk," she said, her voice cold.
Noir met her gaze, his mind already racing with how to handle her. He couldn't afford for Lilia to dig too deeply into his behavior—at least, not yet. But rather than trying to deflect her concerns, he decided to give her just enough to satisfy her curiosity.
"There is something wrong," he admitted, his voice softening. "You're right. Ever since the illness… I haven't felt like myself."
Lilia's eyes widened slightly, the hardness in her gaze giving way to a flicker of concern. "What do you mean?"
Noir hesitated for a moment, then let out a sigh, as if he were confessing a long-held secret. "It's hard to explain. Some days, it feels like I'm not even the same person I was before. Like… something's missing."
Lilia studied him for a moment longer, then stepped closer, her voice lowering. "You should have told me. I could have helped."
Noir forced a nod, allowing her to believe she had uncovered the truth. "I didn't want to worry you. I thought it would pass. But it hasn't."
Lilia's expression softened, and for the first time in days, the tension between them seemed to ease. Noir could see the false understanding taking root in her mind. She believed him, and that was all he needed.
…..
In the days leading up to the gathering, Noir had spent hours honing his combat skills. Magic was still unreliable, so he focused on what he could control—his physical abilities. Each strike of the dagger, each swift movement of his body, was a reminder of the world he had once lived in. A world where survival depended on being faster, smarter, and more ruthless than the next person.
Now, in this world of nobles, the stakes were higher, but the rules hadn't changed. Control was everything.
Noir's blade moved in sharp, precise arcs, slicing through the air with the ease of someone who had spent a lifetime in the shadows. Magic could fail him, but a dagger? A dagger was reliable. And he needed that reliability now more than ever.
…..
The first of the rival nobles began to arrive at the Lavelle estate as the day of the gathering drew near. Among them was the delegation from House Vale, the very family that Lord Lavelle had warned him about. Noir stood at the edge of the hall, watching as the Vale nobles entered, their movements calculated, their expressions carefully neutral.
But Noir could see through the facade. There was a coldness behind their smiles, a sharpness in their eyes as they exchanged pleasantries with Lord Lavelle. They were here for one reason—to assess the Lavelle family, to decide whether they were still worth supporting.
Noir's gaze flickered to Lilia, who stood near the front of the hall, greeting the guests with a practiced smile. They would be watching her too, just as closely as they watched him. And that thought gnawed at Noir more than he cared to admit.
…..
Before the gathering had begun, Noir had taken the time to dig into the history of the Lavelle family. In particular, he had focused on Eryk's mother, the former heiress. Through discreet questions and poring over old family records, Noir had learned more about her than he had expected.
Eryk's mother had been powerful—beloved by the family and respected by the other nobles. But her sudden death had left a gaping hole in the family's structure, one that Lord Lavelle had struggled to fill. The more Noir uncovered, the more he began to suspect that her death hadn't been an accident. Political enemies had circled around the family for years, and Noir couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to the story.
"An accident?" Noir thought as he pieced together the fragments of her history. "Or something else?"
The timing of her death, the power vacuum it left behind—it all pointed to something far more sinister. And now, as the gathering approached, Noir couldn't help but wonder if the same forces were still at play.
…..
Later that evening, as the gathering was in full swing, Noir was approached by a young noble from House Vale. The man smiled, his eyes too sharp for the pleasant expression he wore.
"Careful where you step, Lord Lavelle," the noble said quietly, his voice dripping with false politeness. "In a place like this, one wrong move could be your last."
Noir's eyes narrowed. He had heard threats like this before, back when he was a thief, and he knew how to respond. But this time, something in him snapped. His response came out sharper, more dangerous than he had intended.
"Maybe you should be the one watching your step," Noir said, his voice low, almost a growl. "Because if you make the wrong move… you might not get another chance."
The noble's smile faltered, and for a brief moment, Noir saw something flicker in his eyes—fear, perhaps. Noir quickly masked his own surprise at the words that had slipped out. He hadn't meant to sound so threatening, but the instincts from his past life had taken over.
The noble quickly regained his composure and gave a small, stiff bow. "I'll keep that in mind," he said before walking away.
As Noir watched him leave, he couldn't shake the feeling that he had revealed more of himself than he had intended. This world was dangerous, but he was more dangerous still. And as the gathering continued, Noir knew he would need to be careful. One wrong move, and the Lavelle family might not survive what was to come.