The night had deepened, the shadows around them growing darker with every passing hour. Inside the fortress walls, Alaric paced restlessly, his fingers gripping the edge of his desk as he stared at the map spread before him. The capital lay far to the east, but it felt as if the entire kingdom was closing in on him.
Asher stood across from him, his arms crossed, watching the king with a cold, detached gaze. He could feel the tension in the air, heavy with the weight of impending conflict. Valden had moved too quickly, rallying the court's support before Alaric could even prepare his defenses. The time for diplomacy was over.
"There's no point in waiting any longer," Asher said, his voice cutting through the silence. "We'll be sitting ducks here, hoping Valden doesn't strike first. We need to take the initiative."
Alaric's golden eyes flicked to him, a spark of irritation flashing behind them. "And you're suggesting we throw ourselves into the fire?"
"No." Asher's voice was low, but resolute. "I'm suggesting we make Valden think we're already beaten. He's overconfident. He thinks he has the entire court on his side, but we both know he doesn't."
Alaric remained silent for a moment, his gaze lingering on the map. The streets of the capital, the noble houses, the military barracks—every location had become a potential battleground. He knew Asher was right. But the assassin's suggestion carried its own risks. Valden wasn't the only enemy in the kingdom. There were others, hidden beneath layers of courtly manners, their loyalty as fickle as the wind.
"Where do we strike?" Alaric asked, his voice soft but sharp.
Asher's lips curled into a small smile. "We strike at the heart of his alliances. We eliminate the weakest link in his chain."
"And who might that be?" Alaric's eyes narrowed, the question more dangerous than it appeared.
Asher's gaze never wavered. "We find the ones who would sell him out. The ones who think they can gain more by siding with you than with Valden."
Alaric's brow furrowed. "You want me to buy them?"
"I want you to show them what happens when they pick the wrong side." Asher's tone was merciless. "A noble house that sides with Valden will burn. And we'll make sure it's their flames that light the way for the others."
Alaric considered this for a moment, his mind running through the possibilities. The idea was dangerous—if he exposed too much of his hand, he risked alienating those few allies he had left. But time was running out. And if he didn't act now, he could lose everything.
"There's one house that might be vulnerable," Alaric said, a slow smile spreading across his face. "The House of Rion. They've always had ties to Valden, but they're not as loyal as they pretend. Their head, Lord Rion, is greedy. He'll bend if he sees an advantage."
"Then we find a way to show him that advantage," Asher said, his voice cold with intent.
The plan was set in motion within the hour. Asher and Alaric had no time to waste. They would need to infiltrate House Rion, gather whatever leverage they could find, and use it to force Lord Rion into submission. It was a dangerous game, one that could lead to disaster if they weren't careful. But in the world they inhabited, there were no guarantees.
They arrived at the estate of House Rion under the cover of darkness, moving with the quiet precision of shadows. The estate was large, elegant, and heavily guarded, but Asher was already one step ahead. He had spent years cultivating contacts among the underworld, and the city's thieves and informants had been all too eager to help the infamous assassin.
"There are at least a dozen guards patrolling the outer perimeter," Asher whispered as they crouched in the darkened alleyway behind the estate. "But there's a secret entrance at the north end, known only to a few. I can get us inside without anyone noticing."
Alaric nodded. "Lead the way."
Asher's movements were fluid, practiced—like a shadow slipping through the cracks of reality. He knew the streets and alleys better than anyone, and tonight, he was the kingdom's ghost.
They reached the hidden entrance with ease, a small door tucked behind a large stone wall that was nearly impossible to spot unless you knew exactly where to look. Asher worked quickly, his fingers moving with swift precision to unlock the door, and with a soft creak, it swung open.
They entered the dimly lit hallway of House Rion, the smell of old wood and expensive wine heavy in the air. Asher motioned for silence, and they crept through the dark halls, their footsteps muffled on the plush carpets.
"We're looking for Lord Rion's study," Asher murmured. "That's where he keeps the family records, financial ledgers, and any correspondence with Valden. If we're lucky, we'll find something that will force his hand."
They moved quickly, the tension building with every step. Asher could feel the weight of the night pressing down on them, the sense of being hunted—no, of hunting, was palpable in the air. They were on enemy ground now, and any sound, any misstep, could end in disaster.
They reached the study after what felt like hours, though it had only been minutes. The heavy wooden door was closed, but the faintest light slipped through the cracks. Asher tested the handle, found it unlocked, and pushed the door open.
Inside, the room was filled with rich furniture, shelves of books, and finely framed portraits of House Rion's ancestors. At the far side of the room, a large desk stood, cluttered with papers and maps. Asher stepped forward, his eyes scanning the room for anything that might be useful.
Alaric stood by the door, his gaze sweeping the room, though he trusted Asher to handle the search.
After a few moments, Asher found what they were looking for. A thick ledger, its pages worn from use, sat tucked behind a stack of documents. He opened it with care, his fingers tracing the rows of figures—accounts, investments, and records of deals.
But there, near the back, was something that made his blood run cold.
A letter—sealed with the same wax crest as Valden's—was wedged between two pages. Asher carefully pried it out, breaking the seal with a quiet snap. He read the contents quickly, his eyes narrowing with each line.
"We have the leverage," Asher said, his voice sharp as a blade.
"What is it?" Alaric asked, moving closer.
Asher passed the letter to him. Alaric's eyes scanned the page, his lips curling into a dangerous smile.
"If Rion thinks he can play both sides, he's sorely mistaken," Alaric said quietly, the weight of their discovery settling in.
The letter was clear—Lord Rion had been making deals with Valden, but more than that, it hinted at plans to betray Alaric once Valden's grip on the throne was secure.
"Let's pay him a visit," Alaric murmured. "And remind him what happens when you gamble with a king's life.