The Assassin's Seven Principles of Manipulation-Chapter 13 - 12 — Rat

Zephyrion followed the subordinate toward the northern side of the bastion, where Denmar stood waiting alongside a group of heavily armored figures.

"We greet the young lord."

"W-we greet the y-young lord!"

In addition to the two positioned directly before him, the ten other armored warriors had already dropped to their knees in respect.

’As expected, he sent one.’

One of the two before him was a woman clad in pure white armor whose presence weighed heavily on the air. Zephyrion had sensed that oppressive pressure even from within the bastion walls.

’A Whitesteel.’

Heralds were already regarded as national treasures. Each possessed the power to unleash destruction on a scale that could threaten an entire nation.

They were calamities in human form. Yet the Heralds of the Whitesteel Guard were considered even more dangerous.

Zephyrion maintained his calm expression despite the overwhelming pressure she emitted. He was not an assassin here.

He was Calderalth’s heir.

"You are..."

As Zephyrion settled his gaze upon the woman, she bowed her head.

"I am Seris of the Whitesteel Guard, young heir. I have been assigned to escort you back to Calderalth."

"You may stand."

As Seris rose, her posture instantly straightened, as though her earlier kneeling had never occurred.

’Not to me, but to the title.’

The instant he gave permission to stand, her submissiveness had vanished. As though her duty had been fulfilled the moment she paid respect to the heir of Calderalth. The other armored warriors beside her were no different.

’She didn’t bother to hide it. Straightforward. Loyal. But to whom?’

"The Whitesteel Guard... How is my father?" Zephyrion said. 𝕗𝚛𝚎𝚎𝐰𝗲𝗯𝗻𝚘𝚟𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝕞

"Lord Calderalth remains in good health, young heir."

Seris pressed a clenched fist against her chest and lowered her head in reverence.

’My father.’

Zephyrion could feel the tension within him ease. Under the current circumstances, that was reassuring.

Loyalty to his father, the Head of House, and loyalty to the House as an institution were not necessarily the same thing.

’I don’t have to worry about her.’

"And you..."

After giving Seris a slight nod, Zephyrion shifted his gaze to the other figure still bowing at her side.

"Ah—me? I am Tobias, my lord. Your ward..."

’A ward...’

Wards were companions assigned to heirs of the primary line at a young age. They were bound by oath and loyalty to serve their lords for life.

Zephyrion should have been assigned one at ten, but his absence had delayed that. It would seem the house had sent one to attend to him on their journey back.

Zephyrion read the boy in a few glances. Around his age. Unkempt hair. Nervous eyes that wouldn’t stay still. Anxious. Harmless.

"A-anything you require, my lord. Simply command it, and I will see it done."

Tobias declared while nervously tapping the large backpack strapped across his shoulders. He was still bowing even after the command to rise had been given.

’He’s clever.’

Unlike Selis and the others, he still showed respect. Wards were bound to the masters they served, not the House. It was simply Tobias’ way of acknowledging his new master.

"I see everything is in order here."

Denmar stepped forward with a pleasant smile.

"I must say, it’s been a pleasure hosting the Lightning Prince. A shame to see you leave so soon."

Zephyrion returned a small smile.

"The pleasure was mine. This bastion holds many memories. Though..." He glanced around lightly. "It does seem overdue for repairs. The floors gave way rather suddenly the other day."

"Hah..."

Denmar’s smile twitched before he forced it wider.

"Yes, well. The workers looked into it. Apparently a rather large rat had been gnawing at the supports. Seems the structure weakened over time."

"I see." Zephyrion nodded thoughtfully. "Quite the rat, to compromise Ferran walls."

"...Quite the rat indeed."

They held each other’s gaze for a moment before Denmar cleared his throat and gestured to the side. His subordinate stepped forward at once.

"I trust there are no concerns regarding your security."

He glanced briefly toward Seris before returning to Zephyrion.

"Still, I’d rest easier knowing you reach home without incident. You remember Noss, I believe? I’d like him to accompany you. Just a precaution."

"That won’t be necess—"

"Alright."

Seris, who had been about to object, frowned faintly at Zephyrion. Zephyrion simply nodded, his expression calm.

"I’ll allow it."

"Good." Denmar smiled again. "Then I wish you a safe journey."

...

Moments later, as the grand iron-wrought gates closed, a frown appeared on Denmar’s face.

’Was I mistaken?’

He had expected Zephyrion to refuse his suggestion of sending his subordinate along. Not only would that have confirmed the boy’s suspicions, but he had already prepared contingencies to ensure the subordinate accompanied them regardless.

’He doesn’t know.’

The frown slowly gave way to a satisfied smile. He was certain of it now. No rational person would willingly accept such an arrangement if they truly believed their life was at risk.

With lighter steps, Denmar turned and made his way back into the bastion.

He needed to prepare for the news that was to come.