The flight back was thankfully a lot calmer than the chaotic trip to the capital. The Razorwing hummed smoothly under Zara’s care, though I still had doubts about its durability. The patched-up rust bucket didn’t exactly inspire confidence, but here we were. Alive and intact, which was more than I could have hoped for.

I leaned back in my seat, eyes half-closed, trying to push past the constant ache in my muscles. The suppressants dulled the worst of the pain, but the Nexus integration was like a slow burn at the back of my mind, an itch I couldn’t scratch and couldn’t ignore, and sometimes, it felt like that itch was tugging at my thoughts, pulling them just out of reach. Somehow they had failed to mention this part of the procedure in all the documents about the damned thing.

Zara, of course, was practically bouncing in her seat, the controls of the Razorwing moving under her nimble fingers like extensions of herself. She didn’t need to say it, but I could tell she was thrilled to be flying her ship again.

“We’ll be landing in just a few minutes,” she chirped, not bothering to turn around.

“Great,” I muttered, rubbing my temples. The idea of facing my father while my head felt like it was being slowly crushed by a vice wasn’t exactly appealing.

As we approached the estate, the familiar sight of the Draven family grounds spread out below us, pristine and sprawling. The gleaming towers of the main estate stood out against the lush greenery that surrounded it, every blade of grass perfectly manicured, and every building held a cold elegance that my family prided itself on. Even after all these years, the sight of it still felt suffocating. The weight of responsibility and expectation hung over this place like a storm cloud that never lifted.

The Razorwing touched down softly on the private landing pad, The poor ship was a sharp contrast to the sleek and brand new ships that sat on the other pads. Zara cut the engines, a satisfied smile playing on her lips as she unbuckled herself.

“Right,” I said, forcing myself to stand despite the dull throb in my limbs. “Zara, go find the maintenance crews. They’ll help you with any repairs the Razorwing needs.”

Her eyes lit up. “Seriously? They’re gonna help fix her up?”

“They’ll do more than help,” I said, glancing over at Jax. “Make sure she has everything she needs.”

Jax nodded, his expression unreadable as usual. “Consider it done.”

I swear that some days, Jax was more robotic than the previous. The man never seemed to relax much anymore. I turned back to Zara, meeting her gaze. “And Zara... pack everything. I don’t think we’ll be staying here much longer if I’m right about what’s coming.”

She raised an eyebrow but, for once, didn’t ask questions. Instead, she nodded, a rare seriousness settling over her face. “Got it.”

As she moved toward the open hatch, already buzzing with ideas about upgrades and repairs, I caught Jax’s eye again. “Give her whatever help she needs. I want this ship better equipped than a battlecruiser. I don’t want any delays when we leave.”

“What’s the FTL class on your ship, Zara?”

She hesitated. “Uh... Class 5. Why?”

I turned to Jax, ignoring her. “Upgrade it to a Class 2 or 3. Whatever it takes.”

I heard Zara suck in a breath as Jax nodded his head. “Understood,” he said, his tone flat, but there was a faint flicker of something in his eyes. Concern, maybe. Or wariness. I couldn’t tell.

Just as I was about to step out of the ship, Jax spoke again, his voice lower this time. “One more thing. Seraphina Valtor has requested your presence in the garden... after you meet with your father.”

I froze, my grip tightening on the doorway. Seraphina. I hadn’t seen her in what felt like a lifetime. She was one of the Emperor’s surprises. Our engagement had been arranged before I could even think of a way out of it.

Yet another part of the grand plan that I had no idea about. Seraphina… she made me uneasy. She was another reminder of how little control I had over my own life.

“Of course she has,” I muttered under my breath, forcing my expression to remain neutral. “Thanks, Jax.”

I nodded, stepping off the Razorwing and onto the landing pad. I could hear Zara behind me saying something to Jax. I chuckled. I knew that she had no idea what to make of me. But I still needed her ship ready if I needed it for a quick getaway. I only hoped that the rust bucket would survive a space run.

The estate loomed ahead, an immovable monument to the Drave house’s need for control and duty. With each step forward, the weight of years under my father’s watch settled in my chest, a familiar ache I’d never quite shaken.

I could already feel the tension building in my shoulders, the memories of every argument, every expectation, every moment I’d failed to live up to my father’s impossibly high standards. And now, with this Nexus integration, I could only imagine how much worse the scrutiny would be.

As I walked through the grand entrance, the polished marble floors gleaming beneath my boots, I couldn’t shake the sense of dread building in my chest. The estate was silent, the kind of silence that only existed in places where control was absolute.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

I walked down corridor after corridor before my father’s study doors finally loomed ahead, heavy and ornate. I paused for a moment, taking a deep breath before pushing them open. The room was just as I remembered. Dark, cold, and meticulously organized. Every book, every piece of furniture, every detail was perfectly placed, just like the man who ruled over it.

And there, behind the massive desk, was my adoptive father.

Duke Marcus Draven.

He looked up as I entered, his cold, icy blue eyes, didn’t even see me as a person. To him, I was just another piece in the puzzle he’d been building for years. A necessary cog. His presence filled the room, even without him saying a word. The silence stretched on for what felt like an eternity before he finally spoke.

“You’re late.”

I clenched my jaw. Of course, I was. I would still have been late even if I had known about this meeting hours ago.

“I had a procedure,” I said, my voice steady despite the tension building in my chest. “The Nexus.”

He waved a hand dismissively like it was of no consequence. “You had years to prepare for that. You should have been better prepared.”

My jaw clenched. I had a dozen responses ready, but I kept my mouth shut. It wouldn’t matter. In my father’s eyes, weakness. Real or imagined. Was the ultimate failure. My father wasn’t interested in excuses, and he sure as hell wasn’t interested in my pain.

“I trust you are ready,” he said, his tone cold and calculating. “The Emperor’s demands will not be lenient. And the Draven name cannot afford any weakness.”

I met his gaze, refusing to back down. “I’m ready. Even if this wasn’t what I planned for…”

“I don’t care about your plans. You will carry your new role as Baron with Honor.” He snapped, cutting me off.

My adoptive father leaned back in his chair, his eyes scanning me like he was assessing a piece of machinery. “The military academy would never have suited you. Cedric made that clear,” he said quietly. “The Emperor wanted me to arrange a suitable ruler for Drakara. Your coming of age came at the perfect time. But let me remind you. If you fail... you won’t just lose your place in this family. You’ll lose your life.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and final.

I nodded once, forcing the tension in my body to stay hidden. There was nothing more to say. Nothing that would change the unspoken threat hanging between us.

“Fine. Go,” he said, turning his attention back to the reports on his desk. “Seraphina is waiting for you. Do not stuff that arrangement up.”

Without another word, I turned on my heel and left the room, fighting the urge to scream and shout at him. I hated that man so much that it was making my head worse.

***

The heavy doors to Duke Draven's study had barely clicked shut behind Alex before they were flung open again. Cedric stormed in, his boots striking hard against the polished marble floor, his face flushed with barely contained fury. The Duke didn't look up from the report in his hands, his demeanour as cold and unreadable as ever.

“You’ve given it to him?” Cedric’s voice was sharp, laced with anger. “You’ve allowed him to rule. Alex? The title, the planet. Everything?”

The Duke calmly set down the report, finally raising his icy gaze to meet Cedric’s. “Close the door.”

Cedric hesitated, his chest rising and falling in sharp breaths. He kicked the door shut behind him but remained standing, glaring at his father as if daring him to explain.

“You think he’s ready for this?” Cedric spat, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. “Alex? With no leadership experience, no sense of duty to this family, and you’re handing him one of the most valuable planets the Empire currently has?”

Duke Draven’s expression remained neutral, his fingers drumming slowly on the desk. “Watch your tone, Cedric. You may be my son, but I will not tolerate this kind of insubordination in my office.”

Cedric’s jaw clenched, but he remained silent, though the fire in his eyes didn’t diminish. The Duke stood slowly, pacing to the window that overlooked the estate grounds.

“You’re angry,” Duke Draven continued, his voice quiet but unyielding. “But your anger clouds your judgment.”

“My judgment?” Cedric scoffed, his voice rising. “It’s my judgment that kept this family’s influence intact while he,” he jabbed a finger toward the door Alex had just left through, “has been off playing pretend soldier, ignoring his responsibilities.”

“And now,” Duke Draven said, turning back to face his son, “Alex has accepted his responsibility. He will be the Baron of Drakara, and that will be the end of this.”

Cedric laughed bitterly. “You can’t be serious. That planet is on the edge of collapse. The people are restless, and half the military factions planet side are loyal to no one. Civil war is inevitable, Father. And you’re going to throw Alex into that chaos? He’ll fail. And when he does. It will bring down that failure on our name.”

For a brief moment, the Duke’s eyes darkened. He stepped toward Cedric, his voice dropping to a tone that sent a chill through the room.

“Do you think I don’t know the state of Drakara?” Duke Draven’s words were cold, each one measured. “The Kragthar are only one system away, their fleets preparing for an assault that could begin at any moment. The planet’s defences are stretched thin, and you’re right. Civil unrest is at its breaking point.”

Cedric stared at his father, taken aback by the sudden shift. “Then why? Why put Alex in charge? You know he can’t handle this.”

Duke Draven’s gaze sharpened, locking onto Cedric with a piercing intensity. “Because Alex is exactly who the Emperor wants in that position. This is no longer a matter of what we want, Cedric. The Emperor’s plans are in motion, and Alex is a crucial part of those plans.”

Cedric took a step forward, frustration boiling over. “And what about me? After everything I’ve done. Keeping our alliances intact, holding the family’s name above the Emperor’s whims. What do I get for it? Nothing?”

The Duke’s expression softened slightly, though the hard edge of his voice remained. “This is not about fairness or rewards. It’s about survival, Cedric. Our family’s survival.”

Cedric's eyes flashed with indignation. “You think Alex will keep this family safe? He barely understands what’s happening around him, let alone how to navigate the politics of a planet on the verge of civil war! When Drakara falls, what then?” Cedric asked, his tone bitter

“You will take the steps needed if he fails,” Duke Draven said, stepping closer, his voice low and dangerous. “You will arrange whatever is needed for when that eventuality happens.”

Duke Draven turned back toward his desk, the conversation clearly over in his mind. “If Alex fails… we’ll deal with it. And when that time comes, I trust you’ll know exactly what to do. After all, the Emperor won’t tolerate failure in the Draven's name. Neither will I. But know this, Cedric. Whether you like it or not, this is the Emperor’s will. You will do your duty, as will Alex. Or we will all burn.”

Cedric stood there for a moment, breathing hard, his mind racing with frustration, anger, and helplessness. His father had decided, and there was no changing his mind now.

Without another word, Cedric stormed out, fists clenched so tight his knuckles turned white. He was done watching from the sidelines. If Alex stumbled. Even once. He would be ready to do what should have been done from the beginning.

Duke Draven stood in silence, staring out the window as the tension in the room settled. His face remained impassive, but in the silence, there was a flicker of something—a calculation, a doubt, or perhaps something darker.