The room was silent except for the rhythmic tapping of a finger against the hard wooden table, filling the air with a tense, almost suffocating atmosphere. The temperature seemed to drop, amplifying the seriousness of the moment.
Arthur sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair. "What a headache," he muttered under his breath. "This whole mess could've been handled easily if that damn torture incident hadn't happened. We could've just informed the Queen directly that we found someone with the same surname as hers. Whether he's her son or not, she could've dealt with it. But now? Things are complicated."
His frustration was palpable. "The torture," he emphasized, shaking his head. "It changes everything. We can't let her find out about that."
Endever remained stoic but could feel the same frustration simmering beneath his calm exterior. He finally spoke. "If it hadn't been so extreme, maybe just maybe it wouldn't be as bad. But using the Cruciatus Curse That's a whole different level."
Arthur was beginning to understand why Endever had pushed for the mission to eliminate any relatives or connections to Irate Klark. The man's cruelty had left deep scars on everyone involved. Arthur could feel the growing urge to strangle the already-dead Klark for the mess he'd left behind.
Suddenly, Arthur frowned, his eyes narrowing as a thought struck him. "Endever, how exactly did Klark die?" He leaned forward, realizing they might have overlooked something vital.
Endever glanced at him, clearly irritated. "Why are you asking pointless questions right now?" He snapped. His patience was wearing thin. The pressure was getting to him, and the last thing he wanted was to revisit the details of Klark's death.
Still, he realized the question was valid, so with a heavy sigh, he gave a short answer. "Fine. I'll keep it brief. Klark tortured the boy put him through hell, including the Cruciatus Curse. But the crazy part? That kid killed Klark himself."
Arthur blinked, stunned. "Wait, what?"
Endever nodded, his expression grim. "You heard me. A 15-year-old kid no formal training killed a B-ranker after being tortured to the brink of death. Can you believe that?"
Arthur let out a low whistle. "dammmn worthy to be The son of her. i knew that he would never let someone like Klark live... but still, I'm impressed. That's something else."
Before anyone could say more, Aria spoke up, her voice cold but carrying a spark of determination. how about
Endever and Arthur both turned towards her, their frustration momentarily replaced by curiosity.
"Go on," Arthur urged, his eyes glinting with hope.
Aria leaned forward, her gaze sharp. "Why don't we just talk to the kid himself?"
Her suggestion hung in the air, but Endever immediately shot it down. "We can't risk that. No secret stays buried forever. Trusting the kid with everything is too dangerous."
Arthur rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "It's not a bad idea, but I get your point, Endever. If the Queen finds out that we tried to keep this from her especially after the torture there's no future for us. She'll make sure of that."
Endever remained silent for a moment, then nodded. "Exactly."
Arthur sighed. "Alright, I have another plan. One that could work. Instead of scaring the boy into hiding his surname or manipulating him, why don't we help him?"
Endever narrowed his eyes. "Help him? What do you mean?"
Arthur leaned back in his chair, his eyes calculating. "We hide his identity as long as we can, yes. But if we offer him favors, help him in ways no one else will, maybe just maybe he'll feel indebted to us. And if the Queen really does care about him, he could calm her down when she inevitably finds out. That would minimize the damage."
Endever's expression remained hard. "It's a risk. The boy's been through hell. He's got no family, no friends, nothing. You think he's just going to listen to us because we're offering him a hand? He might be just as likely to burn the world down."
Arthur met his gaze with quiet intensity. "I know. But that's why we need to show him that there's more to this world than pain. Give him a reason to care. Love, friendship... it's not impossible. We just have to be the ones to offer it first."
Endever was skeptical. "You're gambling here, Arthur. Feelings like that aren't something you can force, especially not in a world like this. You know how messed up things are."
Arthur didn't flinch. "Yes, I know. But feelings are complicated, and they take time to grow. What I'm saying is, we've got the right place, the right people."
He stood up, walking towards the window, his voice steady as he continued. "And don't forget where we are right now. This is
Nightshade Academy."
Endever raised an eyebrow, unimpressed by the theatrics. "So, you're suggesting we get him into the academy?"
Arthur turned to face him, arms spread wide. "Exactly. In a place like this, where everyone's chasing power, dreams, wealth... we can offer him a chance at something greater. Being loved, being powerful, being in control of his destiny it's a luxury here, but one we can provide."
being loved and cared is luxury and this place doesn't lack it
Endever crossed his arms. "And you think he'll just fall in line?"
Arthur smiled, the aura of confidence returning to him. "If we play it right, yes. We don't need him to love us, but we need him to trust us. The academy gives him the environment to thrive. All we need to do is make sure he feels it's worth protecting."
Endever thought for a moment, then sighed. "It's a long shot, but... it could work."
Arthur nodded, still looking out the window. "It's the only shot we've got."