Vincent Evisenhardt’s day had been terrible. It was truly atrocious, and he had not remembered ever having one worse. To be honest, being a son of the main family line of the Evisenhardt County was never something that gave him amazing days, but they never gave him this much difficulty. Well, quite as much difficulty as that person gave him.

It all began when he had to head to the Gilded Dome plane to submit Evisenhardt’s monthly records to the Aurelian Commission Headquarters, the centre of the independent city-state, merchant-owned plane. As the youngest son of Evisenhardt, or what was known as the ‘Silver County’ of the Commission, it was his responsibility to go back and forth between the County and the Headquarters, delivering the monthly update on profit margins, expenditures, income, and other important numbers about the County’s businesses, so the copy may be kept in the Headquarters for safekeeping, as had been the Faction’s rule for centuries.

He had expected to go to the gargantuan marble and gold monstrosity, hand over the forms, and spend a few days at its staff hotel taking a break, before using one of the Mystical Realm’s teleportation arrays to make it back to the County without an Obelisk teleportation cooldown. Events did not proceed so smoothly.

The moment he had gotten off his carriage and entered through the 20-metre-high entranceway of the ostentatious building, he could sense trouble. Hand-held protective case in hand, he had taken one step within the main reception hall and could see clerks trading hushed whispers, nervous glances being stolen towards the magic elevators, and staff scurrying about, every single one of them seemingly avoiding the lift that would take them to the highest level of the Headquarters with all their ability. Vincent had tried to ignore them, inserting his silver access card into its slot, and taking the lift that led to the exclusive floor of the Evisenhardt County, to find out more. When he stepped back out, the receptionist seated behind the desk in front of him looked up, and he could see clear relief on the receptionist’s face as he quickly got up to greet Vincent with a handshake.

“Very glad to see you again sir,” the brown-haired, stout man said to him, looking suspiciously cheerful.

Vincent raised an eyebrow as he handed over the case, unlocking it atop the oak desk’s surface to hand over the documents within. “And whatever seems to be the matter with you, Merst? Never could I have believed I would see the day you would be glad that I was handing you more work.”

The man looked a tad awkward but recovered quickly. He gave a deep bow, surprising Vincent greatly.

“Please help us, sir.”

That gave Vincent the first clue something was wrong. As a rule, most of the permanent staff stationed at the Headquarters were a bit… stuffy and difficult to deal with, as working at the Headquarters meant they were unable to progress within the hierarchy of the Commission, by being rather far from any profitable connections such as clans of the Pantheon or other noble families of the Empire to make business deals with. The Commission only favoured those who benefit the Faction, after all.

So, if Gordon Merst, one of the most irritating men that Vincent needed to deal with on any regular basis, was willing to ask for help, it might be better for him to turn around right then and storm off back to his County. Unfortunately, the colour of his hair gave him quite a heavy responsibility, and so, as a member of a main bloodline of one of the four Counties of the Aurelian Commission, this trouble was thrust onto his lap, and now he must deal with it.

Vincent felt a vein twitch within his temple, and Merst seemed to have noticed because he squeezed out a rushed explanation for his actions.

“At the tenth hour this morning, a dark-haired young woman with a winged snake bond entered the Commission’s Headquarters, holding up a purple pocket watch embellished with the Commission’s insignia. She went to the front desk to ask if they could verify her inheritance rights. Believing she was a fraud, we tested it right then and there, as we had done several times before.”

The middle-aged man stared at him, unblinkingly, as if trying to get some unspoken message across without having to physically say it. Vincent was not in the mood for it, and so just sighed, his expression weary.

“What is it? Merst, I don’t have all day. If she’s a fraud, then she’s a fraud. Just kick her out.”

Merst gulped, his expression queasy. “She’s not, sire.”

Vincent frowned. “What?”

The man quickly rephrased his answer. “I mean, she’s not a fraud.”

He stared at the man, hardly believing Merst had just said what he did. “I’m going to need you to state, very clearly Merst, what exactly happened today at 10 am in the reception hall.”

The receptionist grimaced and sighed. “Believing she was a fraud, the clerk in charge placed the pocket watch on the desk, activating the Faction’s inheritance item scanning function. However, instead of sending out the rejection notice, we all saw it light up with a gold glow, and it floated up.” Merst gulped again.

“All the staff members within that hall at the time received the System message that said the woman had been accepted as the inheritor of the Faction by having the succession token and was now the new owner.”

Merst stared at Vincent, his expression pale. “I think we have a new Faction Head, sire.”

After blinking back at the man several times, disbelieving of the situation for a while, Vincent rubbed his temples, scowling immensely. He paced the small reception room, a hand behind his back. The implications this had for the Faction were… innumerable. It could be the destruction of the entire Commission, and the end for them all. Depending on the new leader’s personality, she could be used as a puppet ruler, a scapegoat, an infiltrator, and all kinds of things.

And he, as a member of the Evisenhardt family, had the responsibility to respond to the issue as the first noble with any power to be here to control the situation. He needed to act as soon as possible because if all those staff had heard the message, the other families of the Commission would act as well. He looked up at Merst, who was waiting for his response anxiously.

“What was this woman’s name?” he asked.

“Lucille Goldcroft, sire,” Merst responded respectfully.

Vincent tapped his fingers on the desk. The name didn’t ring any bells. He didn’t expect it to, but the naming conventions of her name didn’t bring to mind any strong associations with certain realms or planes. The fact she had a last name meant she probably wasn’t born in the Beast Realm, and her name wasn’t one the cultivators tended to use, so he could rule out those two realms. She wasn’t undead, obviously, so that was a no to the Tartarus Realm, and from what he gathered from his brief conversation with Merst, she seemed to be a human, which meant it was unlikely that she had been born in the Demon Realm. That left the Mystical Realm… which was of no help, considering the population of this realm was in the literal trillions, like all the others.

Therefore, until he met this ‘new leader’ himself, he couldn’t discover whether she had any important background or not. He sighed heavily, foreseeing many difficulties in the near and far future. He looked back at the fidgeting Merst.

“So, has she done anything in the five hours she’s been leader?” he asked, rather curious. He wanted to see what type of person this woman was. Merst hesitated but shook his head.

“All she asked was to be directed to the Faction Head’s floor, and have the staff give her the records of the Founder’s vault for the past several centuries. Oh,” Merst added, realising there was one more detail. “And she also was seen asking the Faction spirit if her bond could go explore the Pavilion’s gardens.”

Vincent raised an eyebrow at that. The Pavilion of the Commission’s Headquarters had many carefully cultivated man-made environments, and so letting her bond roam to find treasures that could advance its bloodline was understandable. And magic beasts tended to hate being locked indoors anyway. If Ashale’viaf had agreed, then she had definitely passed the inheritance trial. But the Founder’s vault… it made him wonder what she was trying to do.

Each year, all the businesses had to donate the equivalent of 5% of their annual profit to the Founder’s vault, either in money or raw resources. Many had tried to avoid this, but as it was an inbuilt Faction rule formed at the time of its Faction Command deployment, enforced by the System itself, none ended up achieving their goals. Several mages, wizards and even an Archmage had been invited to inspect the vault’s magic arrays, finding a way to crack it open, as the gathered wealth would be immense, but every single one had failed. The Counts all believed the vault was probably a System given item. He wondered why the woman didn’t go straight to the vault and only asked for the records though.

Vincent stopped pacing, looking at Merst, who appeared very skittish. Merst bowed deeply once more.

“Please, Sir Evisenhardt, we need guidance. All the staff members are extremely worried, fearing they’ll offend their new Faction Head by ignoring her orders, but also scared they’ll offend the four families as well by listening to her. Would you help us?”

He stared at the shameless man. Essentially, what Merst was saying, was that all the staff were too scared stiff to deal with this issue, and needed a noble who could take responsibility and be a scapegoat for them. He crossed his arms, unamused, but Merst didn’t stop bowing. Eventually he sighed.

“Is she using the Founder’s study?”

Merst nodded. Vincent pushed up his slipping glasses and put his hands behind his back.

“Firstly, I need a change of clothes. I can’t go looking like the son of a noble if I’m to observe this new leader from up close. Get me the uniform of the staff responsible for the fortieth floor.”

It was going to be a stressful day.

…

“Hey. You’re Vincent Evisenhardt, right? Then you’d know the format of these documents the best. Come here and help sort all these records with me.”

Vincent was right. He was always right about these things. He had been standing there for half an hour, replacing the staff member who had originally been sent to be responsible for answering to this new leader’s needs, when the mask-wearing girl had looked up and gestured for him to come over. He hated his job.

Pushing up his glasses, which he was contemplating just taking off by now, he answered her, hoping to stall for time. “Just because I have silver hair doesn’t mean I am a relative of the Count.”

The girl gave him a flat stare. “If you weren’t, you would’ve said so directly then. Could you come here?”

Suppressing a sigh, he grabbed a chair and sat along one edge of the large desk. Surrounding her were several thick stacks of documents, and he could see her shifting through them, sorting them into piles, and occasionally jotting down some words in neat print. He had a feeling this girl wasn’t simple, as she could sort the forms with even more ease than he could. The girl pointed to several stacks with a finger.

“These are for magical items, these are for spell tomes or skill books, these are estates or land ownership, these are for natural treasures or similar resources, and these are for pure monetary accounts. I’ve done thirty per cent of the last 200 years already, so just take from this pile,” she said, pointing to the largest pile almost reaching her head in height, “and continue to sort them.” Then she went back to working in silence.

Vincent stared at her, wondering if she was going to say anything else, but when she didn’t do anything more, he shook his head in mild frustration and began working. Merst had left out a lot in his description. For one thing, the girl couldn’t be more than 18, meaning she was about 9 years younger than him. Secondly, the mask that covered her right eye. Where a young girl could’ve gotten an injury so bad she required a covering he had no clue, but it wasn’t something he could discover right now. Thirdly, she was Rank-0. That was incredibly weak. She was either rather brave or rather foolhardy to come to the Gilded Dome plane, then the Aurelian Commission Headquarters, and ask to become the Head.

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Well, to find out more about this new leader of his, he was prepared to follow along. He had his experience as a noble playing their games, so whatever this girl could throw at him would be easy to overcome.

…

It was the third day, and Vincent was ready to blow his top. He decided to hold a grudge against Merst for dumping this on him. The girl hadn’t said anything more to him at all, only continuing to work through the mess of forms without a word. She was there before he got to the study in the morning and remained there even when he left. He had almost tried to see if he could arrive earlier than her but decided that wouldn’t be good for his mental tenacity. He had long since sent a message by a courier and teleportation to the Count, his grandfather, so they were now aware of this ‘new leader’ of theirs, and he assumed that Ravimoux, Alichanteu, and Chavaret had also received news of her as well, so that was done.

But no, she continued to just work, and work, and work. Making him work as well. He was done. He was completely over it.

Pushing the paper in front of him to the side, he leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, and just stared at her. She didn’t look up. He let out a cough. She didn’t look up. He felt a vein twitch in his temple again, which he feared was becoming rather common. Just when he was about to open his mouth, the girl slowly pushed her documents away, crossed her legs, intertwined her fingers, and rested her elbows on the table, then tilted her head at him.

“What?”

Vincent was close to losing it. He hadn’t felt that angry in years. He opened his mouth to speak, but then the girl just grinned widely, her visible eye narrowed.

“I expected you to last a week at least. I didn’t know the youngest son of Evisenhardt had such a lack of patience.”

Vincent took off his glasses, letting them hang around his neck by their chain, and narrowed his own eyes at her. So, she was testing him. He had almost begun to believe that he was only here as free labour for her, just to gain some extra hands to work on the records. The girl definitely knew how to act as a real noble did, if she had managed to infuriate him this much. Well, she was almost a real noble now. The Faction Head held an Honorary Count title.

“Miss Goldcroft,” he began, finally ready to stop with the act. “Could I please ask you to reveal your intentions in getting me to work on these records?”

“You may,” was all the girl said. He waited and frowned slightly when she didn’t continue. Then she spoke again.

“Well, are you going to ask?” she said, blinking innocently.

He involuntarily groaned, dropping his crossed arms to rest them on the table. He pressed a hand to his right temple.

“What is it that you want?” he finally asked, a bit weakly to his ears, and likely a smidgen desperately.

The girl smiled irritatingly and twirled a ballpoint pen in her right hand, leaning on the table. “I needed more hands.”

Vincent stared at her, and she leaned back with a slight laugh at his reaction. “I’m kidding. I wanted to see how you would act.”

Vincent frowned slightly. “Why would that matter?”

She tapped the pen against her lips, smiling at him in a way that he couldn’t guess what she was thinking, and then she shook her head wryly.

“I think that’s a question for later. For now,” she said, stretching her arms and getting up. “You probably have many other, more important questions. So, I say we go for a walk.” She added, gesturing towards the door.

“My bond hasn’t come out of the gardens in three days, so I believe he’s having too much fun. We can’t have that.”

…

Vincent and Lucille walked along the dark-grey paved pathway, occasionally pushing dark green ferns to the side as they made their way towards a certain winged snake. The gardens of the Headquarters’ Pavilion were actually on the Pavilion’s roof, with different biomes having individual mana environments and ecosystems. They were currently in a garden based on the tropical regions of the Mystical Realm, so there were many vines, ferns, and other thick undergrowth. The artificial mist was sprayed down on the plants from the mana-circles above, so now Vincent was feeling slightly damp, and a tad uncomfortable in the magically increased temperature of the area. He wondered if this was another test of his new Head as he removed his white suit jacket.

They turned a corner and the dark-haired girl stopped, Vincent almost bumping into her. He looked at the bush the girl was looking at, and there he was surprised to find a small silver snout poking out between dark green leaves, two golden eyes peering at them both. A plant stem was hanging out of the mouth, and around the snout were faint traces of purple juice.

“This place is great! I bet it won’t even take a year to reach advanced rank if I get to eat this stuff every day.” Sounded the immature voice of a young boy.

Vincent raised an eyebrow in surprise when he noticed the dark-haired girl was scowling at the new addition.

“That may be so, but those plants are now mine.” She stressed, pushing aside the leaves to stick an arm into the bush.

“What’s yours is mine, and what’s mine is also mine. I see you also have a poison detector with you.”

The winged snake, because he could now see the rest of its body, wound its way up Lucille’s arm to rest on her shoulders, its head on top of hers.

Lucille sighed. “Their hair is not actually made of silver.” She told the beast. Vincent’s eyebrows nearly disappeared into his hair as she turned around to look at him. She pointed to the fluffy snake on her head. “This uneducated freeloader is Scytale. He’s my compeer bond.”

The snake opened up his white-gold wings and flapped them proudly. Vincent supposed that a bond of equals explained the way they spoke to each other, although he wondered why she didn’t refer to him as a familiar if that was the case. He dipped his head slightly.

“Greetings. I’ve never heard of a snake bloodline with wings before.”

The silvery snake scoffed. “Of course, you haven’t. I’m a hybrid.”

“Oh?” asked Vincent curiously. “A hybrid of what?”

“A snake and a bird,” Scytale responded sarcastically, a bit smug.

Vincent suppressed a sigh. So, the snake took after its bond. He could foresee fun days ahead for himself.

Scytale blinked and flickered his tongue. “My snake bloodline uses illusions, while my bird bloodline uses the light element. As for what they are… I won’t go into details.”

Vincent raised an eyebrow but didn’t ask further. It seemed there were issues surrounding the snake’s heritage. They continued to walk, and Vincent decided to finally ask Lucille a few questions.

“So, you are the new Faction Head?”

Lucille held out her hand, and with a pop, a palm-sized violet object appeared on it. She dangled it by its golden chain so Vincent could see the golden insignia of three overlapping coins embossed on the front. She pressed a button on the top with a click, and Vincent leaned forward to have a look at what was inside.

“This here,” she said, pointing to the top half of the watch, “Is just a normal Astrologer’s clock chart. A very high quality and fancy one, but nothing too unusual.” She pointed to the bottom face. “This is a localised compass, however. Have a look at the arrow with the white diamond, and where it is pointing.”

Vincent’s eyes closely followed the arrow as she moved the compass back and forth, frowning slightly in confusion. He even stepped to the side to see if the arrow was pointing behind him, but it followed him. He looked up.

“It’s… pointing to me?”

Lucille nodded. “All the arrows matching the colours of the four families point to the closest bloodline relation of that family. The topaz arrow points to whatever I designate I want to find.”

Vincent held his chin. “Well, I can say that ability sounds like something the Faction’s inheritance token would have. Although…” he continued, looking at her in mild exasperation.

“Did you have to test your qualifications in front of almost a hundred people in the reception hall?”

She raised an eyebrow at him, smirking. “You know just as well as me what games nobles like to play. If I hadn’t proved without a doubt that I was the successor, it’s possible I could’ve been held up for several months as people came to ‘test’ the validity of my qualifications, when in reality they were just preparing schemes.”

Vincent stared at her for a moment but had to give a wry smile. “I can’t say it wouldn’t have happened. Can I ask if you became the successor just by chance, or did you intend to use the Faction for something?”

Lucille’s eyes narrowed and she continued walking, gesturing for him to follow.

“I intended to become the new Faction Head.”

While Vincent had asked the question, he was not truly expecting an 18-year-old, Rank-0 girl had wanted to become the Aurelian Commission’s new leader. He tapped his fingers against his arm, thinking deeply. “For what purpose, just furthering your class?”

It was unexpected to him when she shook her head. She turned to face him, eyeing him with a strange look.

“I come from the ______.”

He… couldn’t hear that word. And that was extremely strange. The System could translate anything into someone’s language, so the fact it didn’t, and what came out of her mouth sounded like the grating of metal against stone, meant something else was going on. He frowned.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that. Could you repeat it?”

“I come from the ______.” She reiterated. When she could see he didn’t understand. She shook her head wryly and turned back around.

“As you can see, my words are under an info lock. Anything I say will either be completely blocked out, brushed aside like I said a joke, or not even responded to, depending on what I reveal. So, I need to be very sparse with my description of where I come from.”

Vincent frowned slightly but nodded, so Lucille continued.

“Roughly 2 months ago, 1000 individuals of my world entered the Tower, so we could bring back information of the Tower and System to my world in five years just before it assimilates.”

He raised an eyebrow. ‘World’ was the term usually used by those from outer planes of the Mystical Realm or lower realms of the Heavenly Realm to describe their home. It was because they only had that zone as their ‘world’ and were relatively disconnected from the concept of the gargantuan sizes of the realms in general. It was interesting that this girl used the word. Lucille grinned at him.

“And my world is under an info lock, so it is incredibly valuable to the System in some way. I would place it as the equivalent of an unexplored Great plane of the Mystical Realm in value, possibly higher.”

That shot his eyebrows up into his hair again. It could’ve been a lie, but this new leader didn’t have a reason to lie to him. It might have been just patriotic overconfidence, but he didn’t know enough about the girl to gauge whether that was true or not.

Lucille continued down the path, heading towards a small fountain in the centre of the area. She brushed aside some greenery as she walked. “Consider my leadership the equivalent of a deal. In exchange for access to the resources and connections of the Faction, I will, to the best of my ability, aid the Commission in expanding and increasing its power. I, someone with no relation to nobility or the realms, hope to collaborate and be supported by the families, not command them.”

Vincent watched as she pulled out the pocket watch and hung it in front of him, pausing her walk. She smiled slyly.

“And, I do believe Evisenhardt, Ravimoux, Alichanteu and Chavaret have a vested interest in doing so. I may, just maybe, allow them access to some… particular permissions in the Faction that they have wanted for many centuries.”

Oh. It hadn’t quite clicked for Vincent before this, but he realised at that moment, he was talking to a new kind of evil, one he and his family hadn’t quite come across just yet. One who had money, power, ambition, and dreadfully tempting benefits.

He had to revise his opinion of her origins. This wasn’t a human; this was clearly a demon.

…

A while later, Vincent and Lucille sat down on two opposing couches, a low, dark brown, glass-topped table between them. The room was surprisingly small for what Vincent expected from the Founder, leading into a small kitchen behind Lucille. Behind himself was a tall and wide window with cushions on its windowsill, enabling one to sit there. There was a small round table behind him as well. He wondered what the rest of the level was like if this was only part of it.

Lucille tapped the plush indigo couch cushion below her, Scytale coiling himself up on a pillow set up next to her on her left.

“It’s in better quality than I expected for something almost 1500 years old, even with protective enchantments.”

Vincent nodded. “We regularly get staff to come in and clean this level, and wizards to redo the magic arrays and enchantments here. The whole level should be in perfect condition.”

She raised an eyebrow as she leaned back, one arm over the back of the couch as she crossed her legs. “Should be?”

“I’ve never personally visited here. Sometimes it opens to the younger generations of nobles so they can come to visit a place with historical value for the Faction.”

Lucille hummed. “That sounds like a museum.”

Vincent rolled the strange word around his mouth. “A… museum?” he asked questioningly. Lucille shook her head distractedly.

“A hall for keeping historical artifacts for public viewing. A concept from my home.”

Vincent contemplated that. He supposed it was like how nobles like to keep expensive paintings and magic items on display, although wouldn’t a publicly accessible area be at risk of thievery and malicious destruction without a noble’s guard to walk the area's hallways? If anyone got their hands on the powerful artifacts, they could easily cause a lot of havoc and ruin a lot of estates, which would be costly-

Lucille Goldcroft shifted in her seat, and he returned his attention to their conversation. The half-mask-wearing girl placed down the violet pocket watch, tapping the glass next to it.

“This,” she began, “Has many, many functions, so long as I am within the Headquarters, or any land designated as directly part of the Faction. This includes the original businesses of the Faction under the families when the four Counties swore their allegiance to the Founder.”

Vincent nodded. He was aware of that fact. It was the same for the Empire’s Emperor when he wore his crown, or the Citadel of Fate when their Prophetess wore her diadem. Any major Faction chose this method of Faction Authority, as it was a far safer way to protect the Faction leader’s position due to the inheritance token being soulbound. He gestured for her to go on, so Lucille leaned back.

“I understand that the original Counties were very loyal to the Founder. Unfortunately for the Counties of today, it means when they go without a Faction Head for a long period, many important permissions got locked behind the wall of Total Faction Authority, never to be seen again. I can permanently allow the Counties access to these permissions if we can come to an understanding.”

Vincent blinked before leaning back with his arms crossed, sighing. It was definitely the best bartering chip she could have on hand. Not even the vast wealth of the Founder’s vault could be such a temptation for the Counties, even if they would love to access that as well. He had remembered horror stories from the other nobles when he was a kid about what the Commission Head could do if they got their hands on the inheritance token, compared to other Faction leaders with their Factions. He fingered the chain of his half-moon glasses hanging around his neck.

“And what would you like from this arrangement?” he asked pointedly. There was no way getting such benefits would be easy. Lucille smiled, and he felt like he was falling for a trap of some kind.

“Same as what I said before. I want the complete backing and support of the Counties when I implement changes within the Faction.”

Vincent leaned forward on the couch, looking at her intently. ‘Changes’ could be many things, not necessarily good things. The girl grinned as she resumed her earlier words.

“Don’t look so nervous. The Faction getting bigger and more powerful aligns with my goals. I’m not here to ruin it.”

She told him not to look nervous, and Vincent hadn’t even realised he was appearing that way until she pointed it out. He grimaced a bit, wondering when his control over his emotions had weakened so much. The silver snake next to her was silent, lying down, and breathed slowly, appearing asleep.

“What exact changes do you have in mind?” he said at last, understanding he needed to be the one to ask the questions between them.

Lucille kicked her feet up onto the table. “Structural changes mostly. At least for the first few years. Currently, as it is, the Faction is not capable of supporting a bigger size. I intend to change that.”

Vincent tilted his head, as the dark-haired girl took off a brown drawstring bag from her belt by untying the cord it was attached to, then reached in. He realised it was a dimensional bag when she pulled out a thick leather folder, opened it out, placed it on the table, and turned it around to face him. He touched it carefully, and when she nodded, he picked it up, slowly reading the documents within. The documents were handwritten in that neat, perfectly uniform script he had seen her using earlier when he was ordering the vault records, and all of them were in a straightforward format that detailed several plans for the Faction. He didn’t recognise the format it was in, as it didn’t conform to any of the Empire’s normal documentation methods, but it was clear enough to understand.

He put on his glasses to see it clearer. Before he turned the first page, Lucille tapped on the desk to draw his attention.

“Hold on a moment. I suggest you don’t start reading all of it just yet. There’s more where that came from.”

Vincent raised an eyebrow at the ‘more where that came from’, looking at the folder he carried and judging it was as thick as his index finger. He looked up to see her holding four other folders in different colours, each matching a colour of one of the Counties. She held them out to him.

“I have plans for all the Counties. The one you’re holding is just the overall summary.”

Vincent was now firmly of the opinion she was a demon in disguise. No other thing would or could give him more work so freely. He sighed in exasperation and weariness, nodding as he stood up to take them to his temporary study on the Evisenhardt level to read. Just before he reached the door, Lucille spoke up again.

“I would appreciate it if this time, you didn’t reveal this to your grandfather the instant you leave me alone. I hope to have the element of surprise when I show them these plans myself. Actually,” she added, “Could you tell the Counties of my intentions to meet all four of their representatives sometime? I think that would be a good decision.”

Her eyes tracked him as Vincent left the room, feeling deeply conflicted, but giving her a nod. On one hand, he needed to report as much as he knew to the Count so he could prepare their family for the future. On the other…. he feared he might ruin any nascent form of relationship between himself and this new leader of his.

He was also a bit curious about why this girl seemed to be testing him for…. something.