Leon awoke the next morning to an unusual buzz of activity in the Silvergale estate. The normally quiet halls were filled with the hushed whispers of servants and hurried footsteps. As he stepped out of his room, curiosity piqued, he stopped a passing maid.
"What's all the commotion?" Leon asked, his voice casual but with an undertone of curiosity.
The maid bowed her head quickly. "We have guests from another lord, Sir Leon," she replied before scurrying off.
Leon continued down the hallway until he reached the main sitting room. There, standing in front of Luna, was a girl who exuded arrogance and self-importance.
Lavinia de Fontaine stood in the center of the room like a dazzling jewel, her presence demanding attention. She had long, golden hair styled into elaborate twin drills that cascaded down her back in perfect spirals, each curl meticulously maintained to create an aura of sophistication and wealth. Her large, captivating eyes sparkled with an almost predatory gleam, enhanced by expertly applied makeup that accentuated her natural beauty. Her lips, painted a rich crimson, curled into a confident smirk as she surveyed the room.
Her figure was striking, with curves that seemed almost exaggerated for someone her age. Lavinia's chest was noticeably full, her clothes tailored to emphasize her voluptuous form while still retaining a sense of elegance. She wore a dress that shimmered in the light, designed to highlight her figure and her status. Her skin was flawless, smooth as porcelain, and glowed with a radiance that spoke of wealth and indulgence. Everything about her screamed perfection, as if she had been crafted to be the embodiment of allure and power.
Standing beside her was Alaric Graves, her butler, a sharp contrast to Lavinia's flamboyance. He was a tall, handsome man with sleek, jet-black hair, neatly styled to complement his chiseled features. His face was stoic, almost impassive, and exuded an air of cool detachment. His sharp, piercing eyes missed nothing, always alert and calculating, but he showed no outward emotion.
Alaric's presence was commanding in its own way—silent, strong, and unwavering. Where Lavinia dazzled with her beauty and charm, Alaric was a pillar of unshakable calm and control, a perfect complement to his mistress's bold and overwhelming presence. His well-tailored suit emphasized his athletic build, and he moved with a quiet grace that only added to his aura of strength and professionalism.
"Ohohoho!" Lavinia de Fontaine, Luna's rival and a merchant prodigy, reveled in her own aura of superiority. Her butler, Alaric Graves, stood by her side with an expression of thinly veiled contempt, his sharp eyes lingering on Leon.
Leon raised an eyebrow, smirking as he approached the tense gathering. "What's this? A reunion of old friends?" His tone was dripping with sarcasm.
Lavinia turned her sharp gaze to Leon, her sneer deepening. "Friends? Hardly," she said, her voice dripping with disdain. "I'm here to ensure my family's interests are protected and to remind certain people of their place." Her eyes flicked toward Luna with barely concealed hostility.
Luna met Lavinia's gaze with icy defiance, her voice steady but filled with an undercurrent of anger. "The debt between our families is tiny compared to what we've built ourselves, Lavinia. You're just dangling it over our heads like some cruel game, trying to make me feel like a starving slave desperate for scraps."
Leon chuckled darkly, leaning back with a casual smirk. "Tiny, you say? The Silvergale family is deeply indebted to the de Fontaine family. No way to pay it off either, from what I've heard." He glanced at Luna with mock sympathy. "Unless, of course, you're willing to sell yourself into slavery to Lavinia. Though even that might not cover it. The only thing truly valuable about you is your angelic bloodline."
Luna's eyes burned with fury, but before she could respond, Lavinia cut in with a smug smile. "Oh, Leon, you might be onto something," she mused. "That angelic bloodline of hers is valuable, indeed. I wonder how much she would fetch if she were to… bear a child. Nobles do love to pay for divine blood."
Luna clenched her fists, her face flushed with a mix of anger and humiliation. "How dare you, Lavinia! I am not some commodity to be bought and sold!"
Lavinia arched an eyebrow, her expression cold and indifferent. "Aren't you? From where I stand, you're just a girl with pretty face and no real value beyond that. Your family's disgraceful, and the only thing keeping you afloat is the blood running through your veins."
Lavinia's eyes gleamed with satisfaction. "Perhaps I should sell you off for a few heirs of noble lineage. I'm sure many would pay handsomely for your divine bloodline, and your pretty face."
Luna's composure finally cracked, and she spat back, "I am no one's pawn!"
Lavinia stepped closer, her high heels clicking against the floor as she loomed over Luna, her presence commanding and suffocating. Her sharp gaze locked onto Luna's eyes, and a cold, confident smile curved her lips.
"But that's exactly what you are, Luna," she sneered, her voice dripping with superiority. "A little pawn in a game much bigger than you. And the only thing that's truly worth anything about you… is that precious angelic bloodline. The same bloodline you can't even fully activate."
"Haha!" Leon scoffed, interrupting the tension with a sudden, hearty laugh. His voice echoed through the room, filled with a mixture of amusement and mockery. All eyes turned to him as he shook his head, his disdain clear.
"Sorry," he continued, still chuckling. "I just couldn't help it. Watching two entitled brats talk about how mighty and powerful they are—it's hilarious. Especially when I'm the only one standing here because of my own talent and capability, not because of some family fortune."
Lavinia's eyes widened in shock, her confidence faltering for the first time. "Y-You!?" she stammered, clearly confused. She had assumed Leon would be on her side, but his words had cut through her arrogance like a blade. How could he say such things to her, a girl of noble birth?
Leon's laughter subsided, but the smirk remained on his face. He locked eyes with Lavinia, his gaze sharp and unforgiving. "Why? Did I hurt your feelings?" he asked mockingly. "Well, maybe it's because what I said is the truth. Without your family, neither of you would be worth anything."
He let the words hang in the air, the weight of them pressing down on Lavinia and Alaric. Leon's eyes flicked between them with a cold amusement, enjoying the way they squirmed under the harsh reality of his words.
Before Luna could retaliate, Alaric stepped forward, his voice sharp as he glared at Leon. "That's enough! You've insulted Lady Luna and my mistress more than enough. Show some respect!"
Leon turned to Alaric, his smirk widening. "Respect? Don't get me wrong, Alaric. I respect your loyalty to your mistress. But don't expect me to grovel like you. I'm in a league far above someone like you—a lapdog with a leash. Now shut up, and let the nobles talk, it getting fun."
Alaric bristled, his fists clenching in anger. "How dare you!" he snapped, but before he could do anything further, a new voice cut through the tension.
"Enough!" Morgana's voice rang out, sharp and commanding. She stepped into the room, her presence instantly demanding attention. "This squabbling is pointless."
Just as she spoke, another figure appeared behind her. Crowell, a middle-aged man with a bald head and an ugly sneer, entered the room. His gaze immediately locked onto Morgana, and a lecherous grin spread across his face.
"Ah, Morgana," he drawled, his voice thick with mockery. "Always a sight for sore eyes. A shame that someone with such… plump assets couldn't achieve much beyond simple enchantment spells. You know, someone like you would be far better suited to a brothel than a research lab."
"Oh, sorry for late introduction, my name is Crowell, a top rank professor from Imperial academy." Crowell introduced himself while glancing at Morgana, as she a lowly imperial mage and nothing noteworthy inside the imperial ranking.
Morgana's face flushed with anger, but she bit her tongue. Crowell outranked her in the Imperial Mage hierarchy, and she knew that confronting him directly could have serious consequences for her career.
Leon, however, had no such reservations. His eyes darkened with fury as he stepped forward, his voice low and menacing. "You will not disrespect my master. Morgana's research is far more valuable than anything your narrow mind could ever comprehend."
Crowell chuckled, waving Leon off dismissively. "And who are you, boy, to speak to me like that? Just another stray picked up by a washed-up mage?"
Leon's anger only grew, but he kept his voice steady. "I'll not let you insult my master. If you're so confident in your superiority, then why not prove it? Let's settle this with a duel. Your disciple against me."
The room fell silent as everyone turned their eyes to Crowell. A wicked grin spread across his face, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. "Very well," he said slowly, savoring the moment. "But don't say I didn't warn you, boy. This will be your undoing."