Inside the private study of the Reinhardt estate, the air was thick with the sharp scent of strong spirits and unwashed ink. The heavy velvet curtains were drawn tight, blocking out the morning sun.
"Adrian was dragged to the Eastern Steppes by that barbarian prince," Duke Reinhardt muttered, his voice thick from drinking. He sloped backward in his chair, carelessly sloshing a glass of dark Dwarven spirit. "Nothing else could have been done. Damian completely failed his mission and ended up getting caught red-handed by that Holy Knight himself."
The Duke sighed heavily, slamming the heavy crystal glass onto his wooden desk. The liquid spilled over several maps of the capital.
"Sir Lucien Arden is always at the Crown Prince's side," the Duke continued, recounting his mistakes with a bitter scowl. "And now there is absolutely nothing we can do without our pawn, Adrian. At least he was easy to manipulate. He was our only bridge inside the imperial palace, but now that he is gone..."
He trailed off, staring blankly at the dark wood of his desk.
"We cannot move so easily anymore," the Duke warned, shaking his head. "Not after that blatant threat Lucien Arden made through Damian. The second prince is no longer the feeble boy we used to know. Oh, pardon me, he is a *Crown Prince* now. Not only has he become physically formidable, but he is even stronger politically. All of the international delegates supported him at the last banquet. Years of our careful planning have just completely foiled over."
"So what now? Are you simply going to give up, Father?"
Velos, the eldest son, spoke up from the shadows near the hearth. A hint of pure irritation showed through the tense veins on his forehead. He stepped into the light of the single desk lamp, his arms crossed over his chest.
"Since when have you become like this, Father?" Josiah, the second son, added as he approached the desk from the opposite side, flanking the older man alongside his brother. "If you won't do anything to fix this situation, then we will do it for you. Cassian Valemont is merely a lamb that has just started to learn how to walk."
Duke Reinhardt looked up at his two sons, his eyes bloodshot and weary.
"My sons, perhaps we need to be content with the life that we have right now," the Duke said softly, his voice trembling slightly. "A great Duchy like this cannot be allowed to fall because of the risky mistakes we plan to make. As we are speaking right now, that monster is probably building his strength at the tournament. So forget about touching him, or else you will all end up just like Adrian—sold off somewhere far away. Or even worse, you could get the whole family executed by that absolute lunatic."
Velos let out a harsh, mocking laugh.
"I don't know whether it is because of the alcohol that you are speaking like this, Father, but it is truly pathetic," Velos said, his voice dripping with scorn. "You are no father of mine. What happened to your backbone? Aren't you the Duke Reinhardt everyone fears around here? Pick yourself up. We have far too much to do from now on."
The Duke blinked, his hands shaking as he gripped the edge of his desk. "Wh—what are you saying?"
"If we cannot get our hands on the son," Josiah explained with a cold, sharp smile, "then we naturally strike the father."
Duke Reinhardt stared at them, trying to clear the fog of wine from his brain. "Then doesn't that mean Crown Prince Cassian simply becomes the Emperor immediately? Where exactly are you getting at with this plan?"
"Father, we are trailing back to your original, flawless plan," Velos said, leaning over the desk. "We marry off Cassian to the barbarian prince once he conceives an heir for them. If the Emperor gets sick or suddenly dies, he will be left with no legal heir to succeed him since both of his main choices would be married off. Those low-born children from the concubines hardly have any political support. Even the newly polished Leo is absolutely nothing compared to your political power."
The Duke shook his head frantically. "That plan has already failed, son. And besides, Prince Thoris is already back in the east with Adrian and Elyria now."
*THUD!*
The heavy oak doors of the study were violently thrown open, crashing against the stone walls with enough force to splinter the wood.
"Hey, Duke! Do you truly think those two feeble, weak siblings are enough to satiate me?"
A booming, raw voice roared across the room, causing Duke Reinhardt to startle violently. The sheer volume of the shout caused him to sober up instantly. He spun around in his chair, his eyes widening as he looked toward the entrance.
"P-Prince Thoris!?" the Duke stammered, his face turning pale. "What brings you here so suddenly? If you had told me about your arrival sooner, then I would have at least gone to the city gates to welcome you myself."
Thoris strode into the room, his massive frame clad in heavy furs and leather armor that smelled of horse sweat and dust. He tossed a rolled-up parchment onto the center of the desk with a careless flick of his wrist.
"No, Duke. Those mere polite gestures are only for you soft-skinned city dwellers, not the Warlord of the Steppes," Thoris rumbled, his chest heaving. "And besides, I traveled relentlessly to reach this capital just to give you my formal wedding invitation to the Eastern Continent, a month from now."
Duke Reinhardt looked down at the parchment on his desk, then looked back up at Thoris, entirely dumbfounded.
"I still don't understand what is going on here, great warrior," the Duke said, his voice faltering. "Did you truly journey all this way, my prince, just to personally deliver a wedding invitation? Velos, Josiah... what exactly is going on here?"
Velos and Josiah didn't answer their father. Instead, they stepped back, giving the barbarian prince plenty of space.
"Well, at first, I was solely making my way here to visit my first promised bride," Thoris said, his eyes flashing with a strange emotion but his smile remained lopsided. "I wanted to say my proper greetings while I personally delivered his invitation. But seeing that the whole capital is in a massive uproar, busy with that playground tournament his Academy is currently hosting... I didn't want to disturb him. He would actually bite my head off in front of that massive crowd if I interrupted his schedule. I know exactly how terrifying he can be."
The Duke stayed silent, but his thoughts raced.
'So you are actually scared of him,' Reinhardt realized, a chill running down his spine. 'It is pretty clear that this wild barbarian has been thoroughly tamed by a single man. Just what kind of a monster has Cassian become?'
"But anyway," Thoris continued, leaning his massive hands on the desk and staring directly into the Duke's eyes. "The real reason that I am here, Duke... is the Sacred Nectar of the Fertile Mother."
Duke Reinhardt's eyes slightly widened at the name of the rare, holy wine restricted from public possession. It was only meant for the royal family.
"Do you still have it in your vaults?" Thoris demanded.
"My lord, why are you—"
"The supply provided for Adrian has already been completely wasted on him," Thoris interrupted savagely, his jaw tightening. "All of it. And I can only receive another shipment from the Emperor the following year if we fail to conceive this year. But that is way too long to wait. My wedding is only a month away, and that ceremony will be the only chance I will ever get to be close to Cassian again."
Duke Reinhardt's eyes widened even further. The room fell into a heavy, suffocating silence. The Duke looked away from the barbarian prince to stare at his two sons. Velos and Josiah simply smirked back at him, their smiles filled with cold satisfaction. It was entirely obvious now; they were in complete cahoots with Prince Thoris behind his back.
"Great Lord, you–..." the Duke began, his voice trembling.
"I am only claiming back what was originally promised to me by your imperial family," Thoris growled, his voice dropping into a low, dangerous register. "The Crown Prince was supposed to lead alongside me in the Steppes, but your brother and my brother humiliated me instead. They brought me that feeble, weak-minded boy, Adrian, instead of the true prize. Even his little sister, Elyria, is tougher than him. All Adrian does is cry, and he is truly boring for my liking."
Thoris slammed his fist onto the desk, cracking the wood.
"I want Cassian back," the barbarian prince declared fiercely. "And I will take him forcefully if I have to. Even if it means trampling on my own warrior pride and using your underhanded city measures to get him, I don't care. I just want to drag him back with me to the Eastern Steppes. So, work with me, Duke. This time around, we will make the plan work perfectly."
Duke Reinhardt swallowed hard, his mind racing through the variables. "But... there is still the matter of Lucien Arden. He watches the prince like a hawk."
"That shadow can be easily distracted on the day of the Eastern wedding," Velos chimed in from the side, his tone smooth and confident. "So you don't have to worry about him at all, Father. And besides, his formal protection contract with the second prince will end soon enough, and then he will be forced to go right back to the church."
Thoris leaned in closer, his breath hot against the Duke's face.
"So... do we have a deal, Duke?"
Duke Reinhardt looked at the wedding invitation, then at his ambitious sons, and finally at the raw power of the barbarian warlord standing before him. The fear that had paralyzed him moments ago slowly faded, replaced by a familiar, dark ambition. A slow smirk appeared on the Duke's face as he could already imagine everything playing out exactly to his advantage.
"Yes, Prince Thoris," Duke Reinhardt poured himself another glass of spirit, raising it toward the giant. "We have a deal."
*****