The Larousse mansion, a place of power and secrecy, was eerily quiet that evening. Inside the Duke's office, piles of reports and official documents covered the large desk, their edges curling under the weight of untold stories. The only sound was the rustling of parchment as Duke Larousse flipped through the files in his hands, his brow furrowed in deep thought.
He glanced up, his gaze landing on his eldest son, Elian. Elian stood tall beside the desk, the image of composure, with his dark, velvet eyes sharp as ever. His fingers tightened around the report he held as if the paper itself carried a secret he was hesitant to share.
Duke Larousse's voice broke the silence.
"Have the Royal Knights not found them yet?" His tone was cold, betraying a hint of impatience.
Elian's lips quirked into a faint smile, though his eyes remained serious. He handed the report to his father, the edges of his thoughts hidden behind his calm facade.
"Actually, I don't think so, your grace. Once a mouse runs away, it's unrealistic to expect it to be out in the open. It instinctively hides where no one would think to look."
The Duke looked at him, amused by his son's calm demeanour. Elian was never one to panic. He was always two steps ahead, his mind sharp enough to slice through any problem. But there was something more here. Something that kept the Duke on edge.
Duke Larousse's eyes fell on the report in his hands as he flipped it open. His fingers traced the lines of text, scanning for any hint of a pattern, any clue that could explain the mystery surrounding the recent deaths.
"And these five deaths... Anything of importance?"
Elian nodded. His voice was steady as he spoke. "They were all members of the Marquiss Shadow Army. But the cause of their deaths is still unknown. We do know who they were, but who killed them remains a mystery."
The Duke chuckled darkly, shaking his head as he continued reading the report. There was something both unsettling and amusing about the idea that those loyal to the Marquis could be disposed of so easily, yet the Empire had yet to catch wind of it.
Duke Larousse said "And this hasn't spread throughout the Empire yet? Perhaps that's because they were the Marquis's men. People will always overlook what doesn't concern them."
Elian didn't reply. He simply watched his father, knowing full well that this was more than just about those five deaths.
Duke Larousse closed the report, his expression unreadable. "Anything else?"
"No, Your Grace." Elian replied. There was a brief silence before the Duke's voice broke through again, this time more commanding.
"Alright. Go investigate the village nearby. If possible, head into the forest as well. Only the mouse knows where to hides in plain sight."
Elian bowed slightly and turned on his heel, his face grim. He knew what lay ahead was not just an investigation; it was a hunt. He walked out of the office, leaving the duke alone with his thoughts. The Duke, however, remained seated, staring at the door Elian had just left through.
His mind churned with unanswered questions. He turned back to his desk, lost in the sea of reports and documents. But somewhere, buried beneath the surface, a new worry was creeping in, one that threatened to disturb the balance of everything he had worked so hard to build.
___
Outside the mansion, hidden beneath the cloak of night, a lone figure moved swiftly through the streets, his every step calculated and silent. His identity was concealed beneath the folds of his dark hood, but his mission was clear. He had a destination.
The figure was no stranger to shadows. He thrived in them. His movements were unstable, blending with the darkness around him.
He approached the back entrance of the mansion, where no prying eyes could see. The servant who stood guard didn't even flinch as the cloaked figure passed by. It was as though the shadows themselves were guiding his steps.
Inside, the Marquis sat in his study, deeply engrossed in a conversation about the ongoing Rutledge matter. But his calm demeanor faltered when the door to his study opened without warning.
A servant entered, a look of urgency on their face.
"My Lord, someone has come to see you. They bear the Valmont crest."
The Marquis hardens, his eyes narrowing. He motioned for the visitor to be brought in. The cloaked figure stepped forward, his face still hidden, his presence unsettling even to the experienced Marquis.
___
Meanwhile, in a quieter part of the mansion, Elara sat beside the dragon she had raised. It had been a month since she first found the creature, and it had grown at a stunned.
Its scales shimmered in the dim light, the beast's size now approaching that of a small building. Elara smiled as she observed the dragon egg, a bond of trust growing between them with each passing day.
She gazed into its eyes, as if communicating with it in ways words could not express. Elara: "You've grown so much."
Her smile faded into something more knowing, as if a hidden truth had finally come to light. She paused for a moment, her thoughts drifting back to the conversation she had had with herself earlier. She had always known the truth would come, and now it seemed that everything was falling into place.
Elara: "The mouse only comes out when it knows the cat is no longer watching."
She glanced at the dragon, which gave a low snort of agreement, its eyes glowing in the dim light. She knew that the time for hiding was over.
---
Back in the dense forests, Edward Rutledge walked through the dense undergrowth, his cloak wrapped tightly around him. The path ahead was one known only to a few, a hidden refuge that was nestled deep within the woods.
Rutledge's movements were quick but cautious, as though the weight of his decisions was catching up with him. He had made many enemies over the years, but now, more than ever, he knew he was walking a fine line.
Inside his secluded home, Rutledge's wife, ever the strategist, watched her husband closely as he entered. Her expression was one of silent calculation, her mind constantly working behind the veil of calmness.
Rutledge said "We can't keep doing this alone. It's time we seek their help. Things are twirling out of our control."
His wife didn't respond immediately, her eyes scanning the room as if waiting for the right moment.
Rutledge's Wife replied to him "You think they will help us? After everything? You know how dangerous it is to involve others." Rutledge's face darkened.
The truth was, they had little choice. The danger was closing in on them, and if they didn't act now, they will be lost.
Just as the tension reached its peak, the door to the hall suddenly burst open. The sharp sound echoed through the room, leaving Rutledge and his wife frozen in place. A visitor had arrived—uninvited, but perhaps not unexpected.