The official summons from the Crown rested atop the dark mahogany desk. The mere mention of Duke Regulus Astraulf's name, coupled with the unspoken menace of his "protection," cast a dark and foreboding shadow over Rhyse.
"Duke Regulus Astraulf," Master Valerius repeated, his voice grave. "A powerful nobleman at Court, my lord. He advocates strengthening the Crown's authority and regards House Synkar's independence with profound distrust. His connections to influential Hawthorne merchant consortiums in the capital are well-documented as well."
As he gazed at the summons, Rhyse's thoughts surged with the hidden meanings, thinking to himself that sending Duke Regulus Astraulf, a man notorious for his disdain towards House Synkar's independence, was akin to setting a wolf loose among sheep - it was a deliberate move, one that reeked of manipulation and potential danger.
"Thus, the King dispatches a fox to watch the henhouse," he uttered, the sarcasm piercing his considerations like a blade.
He paced the length of his study, boots scuffing softly against the enchanted marble tiles that hummed faintly beneath his feet—a remnant of Great-Grandfather Theron's automated cleaning wards.
The Synkar Core System's new Major Quest Line—[The Royal Summons]—materialized before him like a verdict. The golden script pulsed ominously, searing itself into his vision. Below it, Objective One: [Survive the Journey to Skyfang]. A dry laugh caught in his chest. Survive. As if it were some trivial errand, not a gauntlet laid by the Crown and Duke Astraulf both. The phrasing alone—clinical, detached—made his fingers curl into fists.
"His Majesty grants a fortnight," Valerius replied, his fingers tracing the embossed seal on the parchment. "Yet Duke Astraulf's men will darken our gates in three sunrises." Valerius's expression became even more grave. "Eleven days of open road between here and Skyfang—ample time for accidents at the leisurely pace expected of highborn travel."
Rhyse could already envision the trap unfolding: the carefully scheduled stops at waystations too isolated for discreet escapes, the "honorable escort" of Astraulf's men whose loyalty would fracture faster than cheap glass under a Valtari bribe. Even the timing smacked of calculation—several days of vulnerability, every league of road a potential stage for another "accident." The System might as well have branded the quest [Prove You Deserve to Keep Breathing].
The cold weight of it settled in his gut. This wasn't just a summons. It was a test—one he doubted the Crown expected him to pass.
The System, almost as if sensing his thoughts, chimed.
[Quest Update: Identify the Assassins' Handler]
Progress: Livia Hawthorne identified as a direct Valtari collaborator and key operative in the recent assassination attempt.
Status: Primary Synkar-based agent identified. Investigation into the ultimate Valtari handler and their wider network remains ongoing.
Reward for current progress: [System Advancement +5]. (Reputation gains for key allies previously noted).
The current mission was far from complete—Livia Hawthorne's treachery had been exposed, but the true orchestrator lurking within the shadowy ranks of the Valtari Syndicate remained hidden, their identity still veiled behind layers of deception. This was merely the first thread pulled from a much larger conspiracy, and while the revelation of Livia's collusion had torn a hole in the enemy's carefully woven plans, the architect of this scheme—the unseen hand guiding the Valtari's movements—had yet to be unmasked.
Yet the system's acknowledgment of this partial victory was not without merit. The discovery of Livia's betrayal had shattered the illusion of security within House Synkar's inner circle, exposing a vulnerability that had festered unchecked. It was a critical breach in the enemy's defenses, a crack in their armor that could be exploited to unravel the rest of their carefully constructed web. The system's recognition of this breakthrough was a tacit admission that, while the war was far from over, the first decisive battle had been won.
The implications were clear: this was not the end, but a turning point—one that would force the true puppet master to either retreat into deeper shadows or risk exposure by making their next move. And when they did, Rhyse would be waiting.
Rhyse's fingers tapped restlessly against the desk's polished mahogany surface, each light tap-tap resonating through the quiet study as he weighed the grim alternatives before him. The faint scent of ink and aged parchment from long ledgers filled the air, mingling with the sharper tang of the oiled steel weapons mounted on the far wall—relics of ancestors who'd faced darker choices than his own.
Memories surfaced unbidden: his father's measured voice explaining the merciless arithmetic of leadership—"Sometimes the ledger requires blood as payment, son." His mother's gentler but no less practical wisdom—"Even justice must be balanced against consequence, little one."
The relentless tutors of his youth rose like ghosts in Rhyse's memory—stern-faced Master Castor with his bone-clicking abacus, coldly demonstrating supply chain collapses of fallen mercantile houses; Warbler Yvette's lilting voice recounting, with disturbing relish, how minor noble heirs had been "pruned from the family tree" for strategic oversights; even kindly Archivist Pellen, whose leathery fingers would tap verses from The Merchant-Prince's Lament on his desk whenever cautionary tales were needed. They had woven their lessons into his very muscles, their constant refrains of "Consider the precedent, young lord" and "Measure twice, bleed once" now constricting his breath as thoroughly as the Hawthorne silk cravat strangling his collar.
Every historical blunder, every fiscal misstep of the great houses lay heavy in his mind—the Edelweiss bankruptcy from overcautious holdings, the Ironthrone massacre resulting from delayed retaliation—twisting around his ribs like the gilded chains of portraiture ancestors staring down from the study's walls.
Somewhere between arithmetic drills and lineage recitations, they'd made the truth plain: survival was never an accident, only the sum of calculated mercies and merciless calculations. And now the final examination had come, unwritten on parchment but carved into the flesh of his inheritance.
He exhaled slowly, watching dust motes swirl in the late afternoon light slanting through the stained glass windows. Blood or proof. Silence or exposure. The System's quest pulsed at the edge of his awareness, its time limit creeping forward like sand through an hourglass. For all the months spent practicing sums and tactics, no lesson had truly prepared him for this—for feeling the cold press of a decision that would measure his soul against the survival of his House.
Then, almost imperceptibly, his shoulders squared. The mentors of his past had left more than maxims—they'd forged the reflex that straightened his spine now. Even fear, he realized with sudden clarity, was just another variable to calculate.
He turned to Valerius, a new, steely resolve in his young voice. "Master Valerius, the King expects me in Skyfang. Duke Astraulf expects to collect me. Neither, I suspect, expects me to dictate my own terms." He paused. "Before I even consider the journey to Skyfang, or how I undertake it, pressing matters within this manor must be addressed. Livia's treason is active. And then there is their most likely asset – Senior Lieutenant Borin of the Core Guard."
The System, always responsive to his focus, issued new directives:
[New System Quest Issued: Neutralize Internal Compromise: Asset A]
Objective: Ensure Senior Lieutenant Borin cannot be further used against House Synkar by Marius Hawthorne or other hostile parties.
Time Limit: 2 Days (prior to Duke Astraulf's expected arrival).
Reward: [System Advancement +15], [Schematic: Secure Holding Ward (Rank 1)], [Increased Internal Security Rating (Manor)].
Rhyse's mind raced through the possibilities, weighing each option with the cold precision of a merchant counting coins. He could gather undeniable proof of Borin's coercion, though that would take time he might not have.
The alternative—silencing the man permanently—sat like a lead weight in his stomach, a choice that would stain his hands in ways the Synkar name might not easily wash clean. It was one decision he would not make lightly. Or, perhaps, he could orchestrate the lieutenant's dismissal and disappearance, ensuring he was beyond the reach of Marius and his ilk. However, he could always be found and used in many ways by the enemy. Each path carried risks The question wasn't just what would work—it was what he could live with.
At this point, the system chimmed in again:
[New System Quest Issued: Disrupt Traitorous Conduits (Livia Hawthorne)]
Objective: Identify and neutralize Livia Hawthorne's communication channel with the Valtari Syndicate (the "Krellian Channel") and intercept or identify the nature of the expected "new package."
Time Limit: 14 Days.
Reward: [System Advancement +20], [Skill: Arcane Trace Analysis (Rank 1)].
The path was clear: internal threats first. The two-day deadline before Astraulf's stated arrival created immense pressure. Rhyse exhaled slowly. The ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner echoed too loud, each second carving deeper into his dwindling time.
The System's prompt regarding Livia momentarily faded as a different, equally pressing issue resurfaced: Borin. The lieutenant represented a gaping weakness, a potential conduit for Marius to bleed information—or worse—directly into the hands of the Valtari. Rhyse ran a hand through his hair, the strands sticking to his damp forehead. Simply removing Borin from the equation wasn't enough. A quiet disappearance, carefully orchestrated by Valerius's network, offered a clean solution, perhaps, ushering the man away from the manor and into obscurity. But the thought offered little comfort. If Marius had sunk his hooks deep, eliminating one compromised piece wouldn't dismantle the entire network.
A colder option presented itself—a brutal efficiency that felt alien, yet disturbingly logical. Extract information. Interrogate Borin, break his loyalty, and turn him into an asset. The image flickered in his mind: the lieutenant sweating, pleading, revealing the extent of Marius's influence. Yet, a knot tightened in his gut. Could he trust anything Borin said under duress? A man motivated by gold, particularly Hawthorne gold, was unlikely to offer genuine allegiance, more likely to wait for the perfect moment to strike. Besides, time was also an issue. Borin was a trained Core Guard, it wouldn't be easy to break him.
Rhyse's gaze drifted to the steel of his father's gauntlets displayed on the wall, the weight of family reputation pressing down on him. He needed a solution that helped secure the manor and also served as blow to Livia and Marius. A cold understanding dawned, as if the answer was in front of him all along: he could both remove Borin AND interrogate and break his Loyalty.
First, he would use Valerius's network and Marek's help to transfer the man silently from the manor, somewhere he could be interrogated and turned into an asset. Depending on how much he knew, Borin could become an important piece against the Hawthornes.
Rhyse stood at an important crossroad. It was a dangerous gamble, and also one that relied heavily on force and maybe even unconventional means. Extracting and questioning Borin would be left to those that could do the job, but Rhyse knew very well it would be his order. He could not distance himself from the guilt. Yet, he wasn't simply Rhyse, the thirteen-year-old. He was Rhyse, Heir of the Synkar, Head of the family, responsible for a legacy much bigger than his own.
If he hesitated in using such means, how would he survive in the Royal Court?
Glass shattered somewhere in the manor's east wing. Rhyse's head snapped up, pulse jagged—until a servant's muffled curse clarified: a dropped tray. He rubbed his temple. Sleep had been a phantom these past nights, slipping through his fingers like smoke.
A knock. Captain Marek entered, gauntleted fist over heart. "Perimeter sweep complete, my lord. No breaches." Marek opened his mouth to speak, but hesitation tightened his jaw.
"Speak," Rhyse said.
"The men are asking why Lieutenant Borin was confined to quarters."
Rhyse's gaze locked onto Captain Marek, his expression a mask of calculated resolve. "Captain, Lieutenant Borin's loyalty is not as steadfast as it seems. There's evidence suggesting he's been in league with the Hawthornes, feeding them information and acting on their behalf." Rhyse's voice was low and even, but the weight of his words hung in the air like a challenge. "I believe he's become a liability, one that could compromise our security further if not addressed."
Marek's eyes narrowed, his face a picture of professional curiosity mixed with a hint of concern. "My lord, shall we reassign him or—"
Rhyse cut him off with a decisive gesture. "No, Captain. I want him extracted and brought to a secure location. I'll have Master Valerius assist you in this matter." He paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts before continuing. "I'll summon Valerius immediately."
With a swift command, Rhyse activated the secure comm-bead, his thoughts racing ahead to the task at hand. "Valerius, I need you here, now."
Valerius arrived promptly, his silver hair neatly combed, his eyes alert with a mixture of curiosity and concern. "My lord, you required my presence?"
Rhyse filled him in on the situation with Borin, his words concise, "Captain, Master Valerius, I want Borin extracted and interrogated. Use whatever means necessary to uncover the extent of his involvement with the Hawthornes and any information he's passed on." Rhyse's tone was firm, brooking no argument. "We need to understand the depth of their infiltration and take steps to rectify it. Make sure to secure and protect his family somewhere else. Also… I want you to break him, and win him over to our side, too. Turn him into OUR asset. This is essential."
Marek's expression turned grim, his voice firm. "As you command, my lord. I'll ensure the task is carried out discreetly and effectively."
Valerius also nodded, his face set in a determined expression. "I'll see to it, my lord. Discreetly, of course. I have a few teams in mind. I will make sure no words of it leaks out, but…"
"What should we tell the other soldiers? It might create unrest," Captain Marek added.
"Tell them he is being punished. Afterwards, we can disguise someone as Borin and have him escorted somewhere else as a distraction. This should buy us time."
At the same time, Rhyse knew it would also divert Livia's and Marius's attentions, since they would find out Borin was missing eventually, and devote their efforts to locating him.
As Rhyse finished giving his orders, the Azure light of the Synkar Core System pulsed softly within his mind, signaling a new development. A gentle, melodic chime caught his attention, and he turned his focus inward to examine the latest System notification.
[New Task: Extract, Interrogate, and Convert Senior Lieutenant Borin into a Valuable Asset]
Objective: Successfully extract, interrogate and turn Borin into a valuable asset.
Reward: [Personnel Contract Rank 3 - Borin], [System Advancement +10], [Rhyse's Charisma +1].
A faint hum vibrated through his consciousness as the parameters locked into place. The system's logic mirrored his own thoughts with unsettling precision - it had already calculated the strategic value of binding Borin to their cause.
His fingers twitched at the weight of the contract that would bind the lieutenant. Not just ink and parchment, but something deeper - a connection that would make betrayal as impossible as breathing underwater.
Rhyse's eyes narrowed slightly as he considered this new task. The System's task mirrored his own orders, suggesting it was monitoring his actions and intentions closely. He felt a surge of satisfaction at the alignment, recognizing the System's support in his efforts to consolidate power and uncover the truth about the threats against him. 'A Personnel Contract would bind Borin to the System itself—far more useful than mere oaths or threats. Once signed, he couldn't betray me easily. A gamble worth taking,' the System's reward wasn't just convenience; it was power.
The synchronization between his plans and the System's task reinforced Rhyse's resolve. He was on the right path, using the tools available to him to secure his position and protect his house. The mental confirmation of the task also brought a subtle sense of reassurance, a reminder that he was not alone in this complex web of intrigue and danger.
"This mission cannot fail," Rhyse's eyes met Valerius's and Marek's, a silent understanding passing between them. They knew the risks and the potential rewards of this move. The Hawthornes wouldn't expect such bold action, but it was a gamble Rhyse was willing to take. Borin could become a crucial piece in uncovering the truth and countering the Hawthorne's moves.
With a nod, Rhyse dismissed them. "Proceed with caution, and keep me informed of any developments."
As Marek and Valerius departed to carry out their task, Rhyse couldn't help but feel a sense of trepidation mixed with determination. He was stepping into a dangerous game, one where the stakes were high and the players were ruthless. But he was no longer just a thirteen-year-old boy; he was the Heir of Synkar, and he would do whatever it took to protect his legacy.