THE GENERAL'S DISGRACED HEIR-Chapter 339: IMPERIAL MACHINATIONS (1.2)
Minister Salomonis va Ferrum massaged his temples with theatrical exaggeration as he descended the grand staircase leading from the imperial audience chamber. His auburn hair, typically immaculately styled, showed signs of disarrangement from repeatedly running his fingers through it during the lengthy proceedings.
"Unbelievable," he muttered, loud enough for his companions to hear but not so loud as to reach the nearby imperial guards. "Absolutely unbelievable. That self-important bureaucratic nightmare has effectively auctioned off our discovery to fund his personal prestige projects."
Aria Stormweaver matched his pace on his left, her white hair cascading down her back in stark contrast to her practical dark attire. Unlike most who attended the imperial function, she had refused to adopt formal wear, claiming weather-manipulation required freedom of movement that court fashion restricted. "The Duke has always coveted Lysora's resources," she observed. "This provides him access without direct confrontation."
On his right, Kairos Vale moved with the eerie silence characteristic of Shadows of the Ninth House, his hooded features obscured despite the bright afternoon sun. "This development was predictable," he noted, voice barely above a whisper. "The empire has always worked through misdirection and proxies."
Salomonis cast a quick glance around, confirming that Siegfried remained absent—as he had been throughout the day before. The Knight of the Broken Blade's conspicuous absence had raised questions among the imperial observers, questions Salomonis had deflected with practiced ease.
"Seven different noble houses now have 'excavation rights' to a dungeon on our land," Salomonis continued, his exasperation only partially performative for potential observers. "Do you have any idea the administrative nightmare this creates? Mariana will eviscerate me when she sees the paperwork this generates."
Aria's eyes narrowed at the mention of Elara's younger sister, who had been managing Lysora's administrative affairs in the Archon's absence. "The paperwork is the least of our concerns. The Duke's attention during the ceremony was... focused. He watched our reactions more than the proceedings themselves."
"He suspects something regarding the Archon," Kairos confirmed, his head turning fractionally toward a seemingly empty balcony where observers might be positioned. "Siegfried's absence only reinforces whatever suspicions he harbors."
Salomonis maintained his facade of bureaucratic frustration while processing this information. "You're overthinking this," he replied loudly enough for any listeners to hear. "The Archon has the Empress's favor. Even the Duke wouldn't dare move against someone with such protection."
The implied reassurance was undermined by the subtle hand signal he formed at his side—an advanced Flame Cipher gesture indicating imminent danger. Aria recognized it immediately, her posture shifting almost imperceptibly into combat readiness disguised as aristocratic poise.
"Siegfried hasn't reported in since yesterday," Kairos noted, his words now directed exclusively to Salomonis through a whispered technique that prevented eavesdropping. "Exactly as we suspected might happen when we noticed the surveillance."
"He was compromised from the beginning," Salomonis responded through the same technique. "The question is whether willingly or through coercion."
Their hushed exchange was interrupted by the arrival of their carriage, brought around by stable hands who bowed respectfully to the minister and his companions. Unlike the ornate conveyances favored by most nobles, this was a practical vehicle built for both comfort and defensive capabilities—one of many subtle precautions implemented since the events at Leviathan's Abyss.
"We need to return to Lysora immediately," Kairos stated as he performed a subtle magical sweep of the carriage for unwanted enhancements or tracking spells. Finding none, he nodded to Salomonis. "Whatever storms are brewing, we'll weather them better on home ground."
Aria helped Salomonis into the carriage before taking her own seat. "I still think we should have told David about the Duke's movements. He has resources we don't."
"And complications we don't need," Salomonis countered, though without conviction. "Let's focus on reaching Lysora. Once there, we can reassess our communication strategies."
As the carriage pulled away from the palace grounds, Salomonis gazed back at the gleaming spires with uncharacteristic solemnity. The celebration had been merely the opening move in a game with rules he was only beginning to discern—a game where the stakes might well be the future of the empire itself.
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What none of them noticed was the figure watching from a nondescript rooftop—a shadow maiden whose assignment to observe Salomonis was about to become significantly more complicated.
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Across the city, Angelica launched herself from the balcony of the De Gror mansion, her body a dark blur against the evening sky. The wind rushed through her short black hair as she soared between buildings, landing with preternatural grace on a neighboring rooftop before immediately springing toward the next. Each leap was precisely calculated—nothing wasted, nothing flashy, just the pure efficiency that had made her the deadliest executioner in her former lady's service.
The shadow suit embraced her like a second skin, its material unlike any conventional fabric. David had called it "Nightveil Embrace" when he gifted a portion to each of his shadow maidens. The living shadow fabric responded to her thoughts, adjusting its properties as she moved—becoming more fluid during leaps, more rigid upon impact, and most crucially, allowing her to meld with any shadow she touched.
Angelica paused on a rain gutter, momentarily becoming one with the shadow cast by a chimney as a palace guard patrol passed below. Unlike her sisters who had been with David from the beginning after their separation, her relationship with him remained... professional. Correct. Distant.
She frowned at the thought, resuming her journey across the city's skyline. It had been strange, trying to connect with David after her lady had permitted her to serve him. Strange, but not unwelcome. She had observed the way Vivian curled against him, how Shay whispered in his ear, how Katrina's eyes softened when he praised her work. Even stern Seraphina exhibited a tenderness in his presence that she showed to no one else.
Yet when Angelica reported to David, his responses were always measured, focused solely on the mission. No casual touches, no private moments.
Perhaps I haven't proven myself worthy yet, she thought, executing a particularly challenging leap across an alleyway. Or perhaps he senses my residual loyalty to my former mistress.
Angelica reached her destination—a weathered rooftop with a perfect vantage point of the palace's main gate. Melding with the shadow of an ornamental gargoyle, she became virtually undetectable, her heightened senses focused entirely on the ornate carriage now approaching the final checkpoint.
Her mission was clear: observe Salomonis, report his movements, and intervene only if absolutely necessary. Personal feelings had no place in such assignments. Yet as she settled in to wait, Angelica couldn't entirely suppress the small voice wondering what it would take to earn from David the same affection her sisters enjoyed.
The shadow fabric pulsed slightly against her skin, as if responding to her emotional state. Angelica pushed the thoughts aside, forcing herself back to cold professionalism. The mission came first. Always.
What none of them realized was how drastically their carefully laid plans were about to change.
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