The candle burned low, casting a dim, flickering light on the stone walls of Aran's safehouse. He sat at the small wooden table, his mind racing, replaying the events of the night over and over. Ilya—no, Lady Nera—was alive. Alive, and scheming alongside one of the most dangerous nobles in Eldrath. It made no sense. The woman he had once known, the woman he had cared for, would never have allied herself with the likes of Lord Marov.
The question clawed at him: why?
Aran had thought himself a master of control, a puppeteer pulling the strings of Eldrath's underworld, but now, with Ilya's return, everything was off-balance. For the first time in years, he wasn't certain of his next move. He couldn't simply confront her—no, not yet. He needed more information.
He stood abruptly, his chair scraping the floor as he paced the room. What was she after? The logical part of him knew that this wasn't about their past. Lady Nera wasn't working with Marov out of sentiment or revenge. She had a plan, one that involved toppling Raventhal and securing power for herself. But the Ilya he remembered had always been one step ahead, always looking beyond the obvious.
There was more at play here than just a power grab.
---
A Move in the Shadows:
Aran left the safehouse just before dawn, his cloak drawn tightly around him as he slipped into the early morning fog that rolled through the streets of Eldrath. The city was quiet at this hour, save for the occasional patrol of guards or the distant clatter of merchants setting up their stalls in the market.
He had a destination in mind—The Drunken Gryphon, a tavern deep in the lower quarter. It was a place where information flowed as freely as ale, and where Aran's network of spies and informants often gathered to exchange news. If anyone knew more about Lady Nera's sudden rise, it would be found here.
The tavern was dark and empty when Aran arrived, save for the barkeep polishing glasses behind the counter. Aran made his way to a secluded corner and sat down. It wasn't long before a familiar figure approached him—Hollis, one of his more reliable informants. The man was short and wiry, with a face that looked like it had seen one too many fights.
Hollis sat down across from Aran, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Heard you'd be paying a visit today. Must be something big if you're leaving your little hidey-hole."
Aran didn't waste time on pleasantries. "What do you know about Marov's new advisor?"
Hollis's smirk faded, replaced by a look of unease. "Ah, her. She's been making waves, that one. Goes by the name Lady Nera. Came out of nowhere a few months back, started whispering in Marov's ear. Rumor has it she's the one who convinced him to move against Raventhal. Smart, too. Knows all the right people, all the right buttons to push."
Aran leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. "And her past? Where did she come from?"
Hollis shrugged. "That's the thing—nobody knows. It's like she appeared out of thin air. But she's dangerous, that much is clear. She's already got half the nobles in her pocket, and the other half are too scared to cross her."
Aran's jaw tightened. So Ilya had covered her tracks well. It made sense. She had always been meticulous, always thinking three steps ahead. But even if she had erased her past, there had to be something, some piece of information he could use against her.
He slipped a coin across the table to Hollis. "Keep digging. I want to know everything about her—who she's meeting with, what she's planning, every move she makes."
Hollis pocketed the coin with a nod. "You got it. But be careful with this one, Aran. She's not like the others."
---
The Next Move:
Back in his safehouse, Aran sat at his desk, staring at a map of Eldrath spread out before him. He had marked the locations of the noble houses, the guilds, the places of power where influence could be bought or coerced. He knew this city better than anyone, but now, for the first time, it felt like someone else was playing his game.
Lady Nera had established herself quickly, far too quickly for his liking. If she was truly after Raventhal, then Marov's rise in power was only the beginning. The other nobles would fall in line behind her, and when they did, she would control the entire city.
Aran's fingers traced the lines of the map, his mind working through the possibilities. He couldn't afford to wait and see what she did next. He needed to act, to take control of the situation before she did. But how? Confronting her directly would be too risky. She knew him too well. She would anticipate his moves, just as he anticipated hers.
No, he would need to be smarter than that. He would need to create chaos, to stir the waters and force her hand. If he could manipulate the other factions in the city—Raventhal's allies, the guilds, the underworld—he could disrupt whatever plans she had set in motion.
But first, he needed leverage.
---
A Visit to an Old Friend:
Aran's next stop was the home of Cassian Blackthorn, the leader of the Crimson Circle, one of the most powerful underground organizations in Eldrath. Cassian was an old acquaintance, a man with a reputation for ruthlessness and cunning. He and Aran had worked together in the past, though their relationship had always been one of convenience rather than trust.
The Crimson Circle controlled much of the city's illicit trade, from smuggling to extortion, and Cassian had eyes and ears in places even Aran's network couldn't reach. If anyone could help him stir up trouble for Lady Nera, it would be Cassian.
Cassian's estate was a fortress, guarded by men who looked like they'd sooner cut your throat than say hello. But Aran had long ago earned Cassian's respect, and he was ushered inside without question.
Cassian was waiting for him in a lavish sitting room, lounging on a velvet sofa with a glass of wine in hand. He was a tall man, with sharp features and a smile that never quite reached his eyes.
"Aran," Cassian said, raising his glass in greeting. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
Aran sat down across from him, his expression unreadable. "I need a favor."
Cassian chuckled. "You always do. What is it this time?"
"Lady Nera," Aran said simply. "She's aligning herself with Marov. I need you to help me disrupt her plans."
Cassian's smile faded slightly. "Ah, the mysterious Lady Nera. I've heard about her. She's been causing quite the stir among the nobles. Dangerous woman, from what I hear."
Aran nodded. "That's why I need your help. I want to destabilize her position. Create chaos. If we can divide her alliances, we can weaken her hold on Marov and the other nobles."
Cassian took a sip of his wine, considering the proposal. "And what's in it for me?"
Aran's eyes gleamed. "Power. Influence. With Marov out of the way, the city will be up for grabs. We can divide the spoils."
Cassian's smile returned, this time genuine. "You always were good at making offers I can't refuse."
---
The Beginning of Chaos:
As Aran left Cassian's estate, a new plan began to form in his mind. He would turn Eldrath into a battleground, pitting the nobles, the guilds, and the underworld against each other. In the chaos that followed, he would find a way to weaken Lady Nera's grip on the city and uncover her true motives.
But as he walked through the dark streets, a nagging thought gnawed at him. Ilya—Lady Nera—had always been one step ahead of him in the past. She knew how he thought, how he operated.
He couldn't shake the feeling that this time, she was playing a game of her own, and he was already a piece on her board.
---