Eude raised an eyebrow. "And what does that have to do with you?"
Lorryll took a slow sip of his drink before responding. "I have a person of interest inside the barony."
Eude let out a short, humourless chuckle. "Wait… don’t tell me you’re also after Cleora?" He scoffed. "Aren’t you already married?"
Lorryll laughed, shaking his head. "No, Lord Eude, I have no interest in her. But I do seek someone who is with her."
Eude’s expression darkened slightly. "Who?"
"Jolthar," Lorryll answered simply.
Eude exhaled sharply through his nose, his amusement returning. "Ah, the young mutt staying by her side. Yes, I have seen him." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table.
"I suppose you’ve also heard about what happened in the barony? Quite the affair."
Lorryll nodded. "The entire empire has heard the official version, at least."
Eude swirled his wine, staring into the deep crimson liquid as if lost in thought. "Yes, we all heard how the Great General rode in and rescued them, how he was the hero of the battle." He scoffed. "But nobody speaks of how that young brat stood and fought before the general arrived. Nobody truly knows what happened before the banners of the empire appeared on the horizon."
Lorryll tilted his head, studying Eude. "I do," he said quietly. "I know what really happened in the barony."
Eude’s fingers stopped moving. His gaze snapped up to meet Lorryll’s, his curiosity piqued. "Do you now?" he murmured.
Lorryll set his glass down, his fingers steepling. "The battle was not won by the general. That man merely arrived in time to reap the glory. The one who held the line, who truly defended the barony, was none other than Jolthar."
Eude frowned. "That seems unlikely."
Lorryll’s smirk returned, but there was something sharp behind it. "Unlikely? Perhaps. But I have my sources. Jolthar stood against overwhelming odds, held the enemy back, and bought time for reinforcements to arrive. The empire may not sing songs of his deeds, but those who were there—they know. And soon, the world will know, too."
Eude leaned back, thoughtful. "So, what is it you want with him?"
Lorryll exhaled, as if carefully choosing his words. "I want him, alive."
Eude let out another dry chuckle. "Why did you come to me then? Go and take him."
Lorryll’s gaze hardened slightly. "I can’t do that. I don’t think I can win against him right now, and at the moment, I am a bit tied up."
Eude studied him for a long moment before speaking again. "So, what do you propose then?"
Lorryll’s smirk didn’t waver. "That was the reason I came here. I want you to help me bring him to me."
Eude chuckled, shaking his head. "You truly are an interesting man, Lorryll." He took another sip of his wine. "But I have my own ambitions with him as well. You see, in the past few days, he had been doing some interesting things, and I had become quite fascinated by him and that little girl Nora."
Lorryll squinted his eyes. "What do you mean?"
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Eude leaned forward and heaved a sigh. "I mean that I will remain silent for now and watch them. I want to see what he is building. And I don’t want to disappoint my darling Cleora by disturbing them.
She wouldn’t like that."
Lorryll’s brows furrowed slightly as he set his glass down with a soft clink against the polished wooden table. His expression, though calm, carried a trace of something unreadable—contemplation, perhaps, or a quiet wariness.
"I am not asking you to do anything to them," Lorryll said evenly. "I just want Jolthar alive."
Eude, lounging lazily in his chair, exhaled in mild amusement. He swirled the deep red wine in his glass before taking another sip, savouring it.
Then, in a voice as smooth as silk yet edged with iron, he said plainly, "Lorryll, I don’t like repeating myself."
The air in the balcony suddenly grew heavier. Lorryll tensed as he sensed a shift in the atmosphere. It was subtle, but unmistakable—the presence of another person.
Behind Eude, from the dimly lit entrance to the balcony, a figure emerged. His steps were quiet, controlled, yet carried the weight of someone accustomed to dominance. He was tall and broad-shouldered, his form wrapped in dark, unadorned leather armour that spoke of both flexibility and lethality. His face, strong-jawed and weathered, bore a permanent look of grim determination. But it was his aura—oppressive, suffocating, like a silent storm waiting to erupt—that made Lorryll stiffen.
He recognized the man instantly.
Gales Thundersworn
The leader of the Crimsan Blades.
The strongest warrior was commissioned by the lord Eude, his personal mercenary army led by Gales.
Lorryll’s fingers twitched involuntarily, his body instinctively bracing itself despite his best efforts to appear unfazed. He knew better than to act recklessly here. If he made a single misstep, he wouldn’t walk out of this balcony alive.
His name, his lineage—none of it would matter. Even his clan name wouldn’t save him from that man if he wanted to kill him.
Gales had killed more important men than him without a second thought.
Lorryll exhaled, then forced a smile, raising his hands in mock surrender. "All right, all right. Whatever you say." His tone was light, almost playful, but both Eude and Gales could tell it was merely a thinly veiled act of self-preservation.
He turned his gaze toward Gales, studying him for a moment before pushing back his chair and standing up. He adjusted his coat, smoothing out the fabric, then met Eude’s gaze one last time. "I will come to meet you again, Lord Eude."
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Lorryll gave a short nod, then turned and strode away, his steps measured, his heart steady. He had survived this encounter, but he knew one thing for certain—Eude was dangerous. And the man behind him? Even more so.
As soon as Lorryll’s figure disappeared into the dimly lit halls of the mansion, Gales stepped forward, his sharp eyes never leaving the spot where Lorryll had just stood.