Chapter 2
Tanver Raye stood before the grand window of his chamber, gazing down at the moonlit gardens. The flowers he had ordered restored swayed gently in the night breeze, their delicate petals catching the silver light. Yet their beauty was meaningless. No matter how much he did, how much he restored, how much he managed—nothing ever changed.
The silence of the dining hall still clung to him, thick and suffocating. His father, Lord Varian Raye, had barely acknowledged his efforts. His mother, Lady Seraphina Raye, had responded with no more than a passing remark. It was always the same.
Duty without recognition. Perfection without warmth.
A sharp knock at his door pulled him from his thoughts.
"Young Master," came the voice of Edgar, the head steward, a man who had served the Raye family for decades. "Lord Varian requests your presence in his study."
Tanver didn't hesitate. His father's summons was never meaningless. With precise, measured steps, he left his chamber.
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The Raye estate was a fortress of history and power. Towering stone walls, archways adorned with intricate carvings, corridors lined with the portraits of ancestors who had shaped the family's legacy. Their sharp, cold eyes followed Tanver as he walked, silent reminders of the unyielding expectations placed upon him.
Reaching his father's study, Edgar pushed open the heavy oak doors.
Lord Varian sat behind his massive mahogany desk, the flickering candlelight casting long shadows across his face. His gray eyes, sharp and calculating, lifted from the parchment in his hands.
Lady Seraphina stood near the bookshelf, her elegant figure bathed in firelight. She acknowledged Tanver's presence with a glance before turning back to the crackling flames.
"Father," Tanver greeted with a respectful nod.
Lord Varian set the parchment aside and leaned back in his chair. "House Vernhardt has made their move," he said without preamble.
Tanver's expression remained composed. House Vernhardt—one of the oldest noble families in Eldoria. Wealthy, influential, and dangerously ambitious.
"They have laid claim to lands near our northern border," Lord Varian continued. "A calculated act. One that challenges our authority."
Tanver knew what this meant. Land and trade were the pillars of noble power. This was not a misunderstanding—it was a test of dominance.
"Our response?" he asked.
Lord Varian's eyes darkened. "We meet them head-on."
Lady Seraphina finally spoke, her voice smooth yet edged with steel. "Tomorrow, you will accompany your father to the negotiations. House Vernhardt will not engage in open conflict, but they will seek to undermine us. You must be prepared."
Tanver inclined his head. There was no hesitation, no uncertainty. He had spent his life preparing for moments like this. He would not fail.
"Understood," he said.
Lord Varian studied him for a long moment, then gave a small nod. "Good. Then be ready."
Without another word, Tanver turned and left the study.
As he walked through the dimly lit halls of the estate, his thoughts were not of fear or uncertainty.
This was his duty. His right.
Tomorrow, he would prove that the name Raye was not one to be challenged.