Lord of Deception

The night was quiet, but in the grand halls of Frostveil, silence was never a comfort—it was a warning. The torches lining the walls flickered softly, their glow casting long shadows that seemed to dance with the tension in the air. Kael sat at the head of a massive table, his fingers lightly tapping against the polished wood as he studied the reports scattered before him. The weight of the empire sat on his shoulders, yet his expression remained composed, unreadable.

Opposite him, Saria lounged on a velvet chaise, one leg draped over the other as she swirled a glass of wine. Her piercing gaze observed Kael in quiet amusement. Near the entrance, Rhys stood tall, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. He had long since learned that even in moments of apparent peace, danger was never far away.

"The nobles have sworn their loyalty," Rhys reported, his tone measured but cautious. "At least, that's what they want us to believe."

Kael smirked, his golden eyes gleaming with something akin to amusement. "Loyalty earned through fear is never permanent, Rhys. But it is… useful."

Rhys crossed his arms. "Useful, yes. Reliable? No."

Kael leaned back in his chair. "Nothing is reliable. Fear, greed, ambition—those are the only truths men understand. Keep them fed with one, and they won't have time to focus on the others."

Saria let out a soft laugh, taking a slow sip of her wine. "You make it sound so easy."

Kael glanced at her, his smirk deepening. "That's because it is. If you understand people, you understand control."

A brief silence settled over the room before Rhys stepped forward. "There's one more issue. Lady Elira—she's waiting outside."

Kael's expression didn't change, but there was a glint of interest in his eyes. "Let her in."

The door creaked open, and Elira stepped inside. She carried herself with the same composed elegance as always, her emerald gown flowing effortlessly around her as she moved. Her auburn hair was neatly pinned, though a few loose strands framed her sharp features. She was beautiful, yes, but more than that, she was dangerous in her own way.

"My lord," she greeted, her voice smooth as silk. "I have news."

Kael gestured for her to speak, watching as she approached the table.

"The noble houses who pledged loyalty today—half of them are already plotting in secret."

Saria arched an eyebrow. "Already? That was fast."

Elira smiled. "Desperation breeds recklessness. They know they have little time before you consolidate power, so they're scrambling to act first."

Kael rested his chin on his fingers, his eyes half-lidded. "Names."

Elira placed a sealed scroll on the table. "Five noble families. Three are gathering troops in secret. The other two are sending messengers beyond the empire's borders, seeking alliances."

Rhys stiffened. "They're reaching beyond our lands?"

Kael chuckled, a low and amused sound. "Of course they are. When a man faces the executioner's blade, he'll grab onto anything to escape—even if it's nothing but air."

Saria tilted her head. "And what will you do?"

Kael reached for the scroll, unrolling it slowly. His expression remained unreadable as he scanned the names written in fine ink. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he tossed it aside.

"Kill the messengers," he said simply. "Cut off their hands and send them back as warnings."

Rhys gave a sharp nod. "And the families?"

Kael exhaled softly, his fingers drumming against the wood. "A single public execution should suffice."

Saria let out an amused hum. "Only one? That's merciful, coming from you."

Kael smirked. "Mercy is an illusion. The execution isn't about the one who dies—it's about the ones who watch."

Elira studied him carefully, then stepped closer, her voice lowering. "You act decisively."

Kael met her gaze, his golden eyes steady. "Hesitation is the luxury of the powerless."

She smiled slightly. "And yet, for all your strength, you sit here alone, ruling over a kingdom of frightened men."

Saria let out a soft laugh. "Careful, Lady Elira. Not many get away with speaking so boldly."

Kael chuckled, the sound dark and knowing. "I don't punish truth. I shape it."

Elira took another step closer, placing a hand lightly on the table. "Then let me offer you another truth—if you wish to rule more than just a throne, you must inspire more than fear."

Kael's smirk didn't waver. "I do not rule through fear alone."

Elira's smile deepened, something unreadable flickering in her eyes. "Then prove it."

Kael's amusement only grew. "Careful, Lady Elira. You might just find yourself more entangled in my rule than you intended."

She met his gaze without flinching. "Perhaps that's exactly what I intend."

Saria, watching from the side, laughed softly, sipping her wine. "This will be interesting."

Kael said nothing, but in his mind, the game had already begun.

To be continued...