As the funeral concluded, I found myself surrounded by numerous nobles, both relatives from my mother's family and visitors from distant lands. Most offered their condolences and expressed their sorrow for my loss, but some sought to establish connections with me, taking advantage of my vulnerable state. While part of me desired to retaliate against such individuals, I knew there was little to gain from it beyond personal satisfaction.
Seeking solace, I made my way back to the estate, intending to clear my mind and distance myself from the crowd. However, my path was obstructed by Adeline Vigar, who stood before me, wearing a small smile and bowing with grace befitting her noble status.
"It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Lucas de Clare," Adeline greeted me, her voice carrying warmth and sincerity.
"I apologize, Lady Adeline, but I am not in the mood for conversation," I replied, my gaze meeting hers with limited emotion. "Hopefully, we may meet under more favorable circumstances."
I attempted to continue on my way, but Adeline spoke again, her words holding a different tone from the rest. "I am sorry for your loss, Lucas." I simply nodded in acknowledgement before moving past her. There was something about her voice that conveyed both empathy and understanding, a quality absent in the others who had offered their sympathies.
Upon entering my room, I found Elena and Andrew waiting for me. Curiosity filled my voice as I asked, "What are you doing here?"
Elena crossed her legs and replied, "That's what we should be asking you. You should be staying at the funeral, not returning here to work."
"I have already moved on," I swiftly responded, closing the door behind me and picking up a file. "Besides, we have a council meeting in three weeks that requires my preparation."
Andrew intervened this time, asserting, "That should be the least of your concerns. I understand the desire for revenge, but becoming consumed by it will only cause you more harm."
"This has nothing to do with my mother's death," I declared, gripping the chair tightly as I focused on the file, intentionally avoiding the penetrating gazes of Elena and Andrew. Their sighs filled the room, and reluctantly, they joined me in working.
I wasn't lying. I was genuinely focused on preparing for the upcoming council meeting. I knew that succumbing to the overwhelming urge for revenge would cloud my judgment and jeopardize my chances against the chancellor.
As I delved into the files, my attention momentarily shifted to the window, where I caught a glimpse of the relentless rain, its cold droplets striking the glass as if the heavens wept.
—--------------------------
Inside the king's castle in the capital, tension filled the room as the chancellor once again stood before the furious king.
"You mean to tell me you only managed to kill his mother?" The king's voice held both disbelief and disgust. "Now we truly have no choice but to eliminate him," he declared, rubbing his head in frustration.
"We always had to eliminate him, my king," the chancellor calmly responded, showing no hint of fear. He had anticipated this reaction. "He is a lion, my king. He will always strive to be the king himself."
"That's not true!" the king argued, his anger flaring. "We could have arranged a marriage between him and the princess, but you objected. Now we've lost the support of the North due to the marriage between Adeline Vigar and Lucas de Clare."
"I apologize if I offend you, my king, but that assumption is foolish," the chancellor's words caused the king to focus his aura on him momentarily, but the chancellor remained unfazed. "We actually have the upper hand now, my king."
The king fell silent, intrigued by the chancellor's perspective. From his viewpoint, they had lost the North entirely to Lucas de Clare.
"Lucas de Clare has been emotionally wounded, and with his fiancée arriving at the funeral, there is a good chance she will grow closer to him in his vulnerable state," the chancellor explained, taking a breath before continuing. "She would make the perfect spy, especially since Lucas de Clare has virtually eliminated all our spies in the South."
"How do we convince her or her father to turn to our side?" the king inquired, aware of the strong economic ties between Duke Vigar and the de Clare family. If they were to betray the de Clare family, it would be the Vigar family that suffered the most.
"Duke Vigar is a man of ambition, but he also understands his limitations," the chancellor replied confidently. "What he desires is influence, even if it is just a small amount. So, I propose we grant him that influence."
The king contemplated the chancellor's words. "I could simply send Duke Roger, and he would decimate the armies of the South himself," the king suggested in frustration. Scheming and covert control were not his strengths; he preferred straightforward warfare.
"Duke Roger is currently occupied with the drug business in his region. If we were to order him to deal with the South, we would quickly lose favor with him. Furthermore, Lucas de Clare possesses a way with words that could potentially sway Duke Roger to his side," the chancellor explained, recognizing Duke Roger as their most valuable asset. After all, it was said that Duke Roger had never once bled.
"Fine," the king replied in frustration, waving off the chancellor. "Get Duke Vigar on our side and offer him whatever he desires." The chancellor nodded and exited the room as the king sank back into his throne.
Alone in his chamber, the king glanced at the knight standing by his side. "Bring me Frost immediately," he demanded, his voice resonating through the throne room. The knight swiftly departed to fetch Frost.
"All these politics, these schemes," the king muttered in frustration. He turned his attention to the butler standing nearby. "How is my son faring?" he inquired, his gaze shifting to the left.
"He is doing well, my lord. The academy has been treating him favorably, and he has not been involved in any scandals," the butler replied, bowing respectfully.
"Thank you," the king acknowledged, briefly acknowledging the information. However, his focus quickly shifted as the doors of the throne room swung open, revealing a slightly nervous old man with white hair and beard - Frost.
"Frost, explain your failure, and do so quickly," the king's aura intensified as he spoke, causing Frost to kneel before him, sweat dripping from his forehead.
"My king, the reports were inaccurate, and they failed to mention Lucas' teleportation ability," Frost responded fearfully. Although he was fearful, a hint of satisfaction lingered within him, as the chancellor's scheme had been thwarted. After all, that bastard had been nothing but an annoyance to him.
"Excuses! You sent men thirty or more years older than that child, and you're telling me they failed? What kind of operation are you running? Is it filled with idiots?" The king retorted angrily. This was supposed to be the organization responsible for keeping any threats to the kingdom in check, yet they couldn't even eliminate a mere child.
"I offer you no excuses, my king. All I can offer is this old man's head," Frost admitted, remaining on his knee, awaiting the king's judgment for his failure.
"Using your own life as a plea for forgiveness? You are a coward and an excuse for a man, Frost," the king's voice grew more intense, his words piercing the old man's heart.
Frost's anger surged, but he restrained himself from glaring at the king, fearing he might lunge forward and attempt to kill the man on the throne. "I apologize, my king," he murmured, his voice filled with remorse.
"Leave at once, and if you fail me again, I will have your head," the king declared, his tone final. Frost promptly departed, leaving the throne room in silence once more.