The warmth of the ballroom slowly faded behind them.
Music still echoed faintly through the lower floors of House Veil, soft orchestral melodies blending with noble laughter and the clinking of crystal glasses. Beneath the golden chandeliers, nobles continued dancing elegantly across polished marble floors, unaware that the true heart of tonight's gathering was only now beginning above them.
Because while the ballroom entertained the South—
The second floor would decide its future.
Near the edge of the ballroom, Duke Altair's daughter stood quietly after Landon stepped away.
The warmth lingering upon her face from their dance had not fully faded yet. Her crimson dress shimmered softly beneath the chandelier light while delicate strands of dark hair rested against her shoulders from the earlier movement.
But now—
A faint loneliness had begun replacing the happiness in her expression.
Not childish disappointment.
She understood why Landon left.
Better than most women here, actually.
Because she had been raised inside noble politics from birth.
Duty always interrupted personal moments.
Especially for rising nobles.
Still—
Understanding something…
Did not make it feel pleasant.
Kel noticed it immediately.
Of course he did.
Sairen's voice echoed softly through the soul-link.
"…You notice emotions far too easily."
Far away—
At Scarder Lake—
Sairen watched through his senses while silver mist drifted quietly across endless waters.
Kel answered calmly.
"People reveal themselves most clearly in silence."
Without another word, Kel stepped toward the Head Maid standing nearby overseeing servant coordination throughout the ballroom.
She immediately straightened slightly upon his approach.
Over the last several weeks, her opinion of Heral had changed drastically.
At first—
He was merely a talented potion maker.
Now—
Even she subconsciously treated him with a level of respect unusual for someone without noble status.
Because instinctively—
She understood.
This man was dangerous in ways difficult to explain.
"Mister Heral."
She bowed her head politely.
Kel's gaze shifted subtly toward Duke Altair's daughter standing quietly near the ballroom edge.
Then calmly—
He spoke.
"Please accompany Lady Valemont for the remainder of the evening."
The Head Maid blinked faintly.
Then immediately followed his gaze.
And understood.
Instantly.
Because Kel's wording carried meaning beneath meaning.
Not merely hospitality.
Positioning.
"She should not feel isolated…"
Kel continued calmly.
"…especially considering her relationship with Lord Landon."
The Head Maid's eyes sharpened subtly.
Relationship.
Not acquaintance.
Not guest.
Relationship.
Kel's next words deepened the implication even further.
"It would be improper for someone who may become deeply connected to House Veil in the future…"
A faint pause.
"…to feel neglected tonight."
The Head Maid fully understood now.
And internally—
Her entire perception shifted immediately.
Future matriarch candidate.
Not officially spoken.
But heavily implied.
And coming from someone clearly trusted by Landon—
The implication carried enormous weight.
The Head Maid lowered her head respectfully at once.
"I understand."
Kel nodded once.
Then quietly walked away.
Leaving the Head Maid approaching Duke Altair's daughter with noticeably warmer treatment than before.
"Lady Valemont."
The Head Maid's tone carried elegant respect.
"If you would allow it…"
A faint smile appeared.
"…I would be honored to accompany you personally this evening."
The Duke's daughter blinked softly.
Surprised by the sudden attentiveness.
Meanwhile—
Kel had already turned toward Landon.
The latter stood several steps away speaking quietly with Duke Altair before preparing to leave for the upper-floor meeting.
The traces of warmth from the earlier dance had vanished from his expression already.
Now—
He looked like a lord again.
Still—
The moment Kel approached—
Landon immediately understood from his eyes alone.
Everything downstairs was arranged.
Without waiting for explanation, Kel calmly walked beside him.
Then slightly behind him.
Exactly two steps.
Like an attendant.
Sairen immediately spoke through the soul-link.
"…You really enjoy this."
Kel's expression remained calm.
"Roles exist for efficiency."
Sairen laughed softly.
"…You're the mastermind behind half this empire's chaos and now you're pretending to be a servant."
Kel ignored her completely.
Again.
The atmosphere throughout the mansion shifted subtly as they approached the grand staircase leading toward the second floor.
Servants moved more carefully now.
Selected nobles quietly ascended alongside attendants.
Conversations became lower.
Sharper.
Less performative.
Because everyone climbing those stairs understood one thing clearly.
The real negotiations were beginning.
Landon walked ahead calmly.
Straight posture.
Measured steps.
His black formal attire reflected faint silver beneath wall lanterns while the insignia of House Veil rested sharply against his chest.
And behind him—
Kel followed silently.
One step lower.
One role hidden beneath another.
The symbolism itself carried quiet power.
To outsiders—
Heral appeared merely a trusted advisor or attendant accompanying House Veil's lord.
But those observant enough noticed something strange.
Landon never once looked back to check whether Heral followed.
As though absolute trust already existed naturally.
And Heral himself—
Moved with the calm composure of someone entirely unafraid of standing among the South's highest powers.
The second-floor corridor felt entirely different from the ballroom below.
Quieter.
Darker.
More ancient.
Tall black windows lined the hallway, revealing the moonlit Southern capital beyond while silver lantern flames burned steadily against dark stone walls. Guards stood stationed every several meters now, carefully selected by Landon personally.
No ordinary servant approached this section anymore.
Only those permitted.
Ahead—
The conference chamber doors stood open.
Warm golden light spilled softly outward into the corridor.
And already—
Several important nobles had entered.
Duke Altair.
Duchess Seraphine.
Duke Kael Draven.
Merchant Counts.
Military nobles.
The true powers of the South.
Kel's eyes sharpened faintly.
Because now—
The game entered its next phase.
As they approached the chamber entrance, several nobles instinctively looked toward them.
Or more specifically—
Toward Landon.
The rising Viscount who somehow gathered all Three Dukes beneath one roof.
Landon's expression remained composed.
Controlled.
Not arrogant.
But no longer uncertain either.
Tonight had changed something.
The attention.
The respect.
The fear.
He could feel it now.
Sairen's voice echoed softly again.
"…He changed."
Kel answered calmly.
"Power changes posture before it changes people."
At the chamber entrance—
Servants immediately bowed deeply.
The atmosphere inside quieted subtly.
And exactly as etiquette demanded—
Landon entered first.
The moment he stepped inside, nearly every gaze in the room shifted toward him.
The long conference chamber itself radiated old Southern authority. Massive darkwood walls lined with ancient paintings surrounded a central oval table illuminated beneath crystal lanterns. Maps, wine, and prepared documents already rested neatly across the polished surface.
The room smelled faintly of old wood, candle wax, ink…
And ambition.
The Three Dukes sat positioned strategically around the table already.
Duchess Seraphine leaned gracefully against her chair while quietly observing the entrance with pale unreadable eyes.
Duke Altair remained still and imposing like a mountain waiting for battle.
And Duke Kael Draven—
Watched silently from shadow.
Like a beast studying prey.
Landon walked inward calmly.
Every step measured.
Every movement noble.
Then—
Exactly two steps behind him—
Kel entered second.
The room subtly shifted.
Again.
Because many nobles noticed something impossible to ignore now.
The rising lord of House Veil walked ahead.
But somehow—
The quiet man behind him felt equally dangerous.