Lord Kevin Easton raised himself to his full height of six feet and roved a critical eye over his reflection in the mirror. He brushed a stray lock of gold from his forehead and smoothed a crease from his collar.

He had every reason to be in an excellent mood. His progression had been stuck at level 54 for several years, and yet lately, a new dungeon had spawned on his family’s land containing enough formidable monsters to grant him two levels within a few short days. Strangely, as soon as he reached level 56, the dungeon spontaneously collapsed, jettisoning him from its depths before disappearing altogether.

Have the gods smiled on me at last?

Yet even with his shiny new levels, he found himself perpetually dissatisfied. He could feel the caustic burn of his father’s disappointment from beyond the grave.

“More discipline, that’s what you need,” he said to himself, parroting his father’s voice. “Your level should be in the eighties by now. What have you to say for yourself?”

His facade cracked for a split second, his strained smile faltering. The weight of carrying an entire noble House upon his shoulders caused them to sag, if but for a moment.

I hate you, old man.

The sound of knuckles rapping against his chamber’s door interrupted his musings.

“A missive for you, m’lord.”

He snatched the paper from his servant’s hands.

> Remember, death alone is not enough. He must be humiliated. My enemies must publicly witness the act and tremble. I leave the matter in your capable hands.

>

> - Aunt Mallenda

The young master of House Easton grabbed a blue mana umbrella on his way out the door. After a brisk stroll across the wealthiest section of Bastion, he approached their local Gate: a compact, stone-walled, block-of-a-building, fifty feet square. It was built like a fortress and teeming with armed guards.

A captain greeted him. “Mornin’, m’lord. Destination?”

Easton deposited the customary gold coin for passage in the man’s outstretched palm. “One for Strathburn.”

“Hello there, cousin,” said a bright voice. Deeya Rutterdam sauntered up wearing a billowing dress. The garment’s outrageous impracticality was a trademark of the nobility. She planted her own coin in the captain’s hand. “Seems we’ll be sharing the trip.”

Easton’s gaze narrowed. “Why would you be traveling to Strathburn?”

“Father wants me to study under Lady Sammerberry for a season. He thinks my painting ability has real potential.”

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Easton snorted. “He wants you out from under his feet, more like.”

“Oh, look at that,” replied Deeya, not missing a beat. She leaned back to examine the young man’s backside. “There’s a terrible twist in your knickers, my lord. You’d best see to it right away.” She elbowed him playfully.

Despite Kevin being six years her senior, they’d grown up in the same circles, and she enjoyed poking fun at him. Since his father’s passing two years ago, he’d become withdrawn and bad-tempered. He’d always been arrogant and selfish, but lately, his jibes had acquired a cruel edge. If the gossip were to be believed, his cruelty was the tip of the iceberg.

“Seriously though, want to talk about it?” she asked.

“You wouldn’t understand. Family business of a most unsavory kind. A peasant under my purview has flown the coop. I’ve clipped his wings once, yet he’s shown a stubborn resilience that will prove his undoing.” Easton affected a disingenuous sigh. “What’s a man of my standing to do? I had to set the hounds after him. The Strathburn Assassin’s Guild assures me he’ll be delivered any day now. At which point, I’ll thoroughly enjoy seeing to his end in a most fitting manner.”

A frown pulled on Deeya’s lips. “Seems very heavy-handed. Bad form, if I may say so. Is there no alternative?”

“Even neutered dogs can bite, cousin. Besides,” the man licked his lips and lowered his voice, “This one is an implied threat to House Cartwright.” A mixture of avarice and pride was painted on his face.

“A peasant threatens Lady Mallenda? How so?”

The young man waved his hand. “I’m not at liberty to share the finer details. Suffice to say it’s a loose end from her past. Once handily dealt with, it will catapult me into her good graces.”

“That may well be, but from what I hear, she views a latent threat in every robin’s shadow. And now she has you chasing down a peasant for retribution? She’s bad news, Easton. You would do well to remove her foot from your neck.”

Easton’s expression darkened in an instant. “You would do well to keep her name from your lips!” he snarled.

The overreaction stunned Deeya. She never understood Kevin’s unswerving obeisance to Lady Mallenda. The old hag was vindictive and spiteful and only cared about herself. The fact was plainly evident, yet Kevin could never see it. Even now, his face was contorted in a rictus of self-righteous anger.

Not knowing how to react, Deeya fell back on her training. Her back became ramrod straight, and she gave the perfect curtsy, one that belied a lowlier station.

“I yield to your prudent advice, my lord.” She turned to the captain, using his presence as an opportunity to deflect. “Is the Gate ready, Captain?”

“It is, your ladyship. Right this way, if you would.”

She bustled inside the building with her expansive gown brushing either side of the doorway. Lord Easton mechanically followed, silent and fuming.

Inside, the floor shone with several circular rings of glowing essence. They illuminated a mysterious mist seeping from the stone surroundings. The essence rings shone upward with such brilliance that they cast translucent walls of blue light curving about the room.

Deeya stepped into one of the circles, and Lord Easton selected the one opposite, his visage dark, fixated on her with an unnerving stare. They stood there in awkward silence while the Captain counted down.

A sudden flash of essence filled the air, and they were teleported to an identical building in the heart of Strathburn, greeted by its corresponding contingent of armed guards. Easton didn’t say a word as he followed Deeya from the room. Her spine prickled with the intensity of his gaze on her back.

She dipped a hasty curtsy and fled from her cousin as soon as propriety allowed, hopping into an awaiting carriage.

Easton stood still as stone as he watched her leave. His mana umbrella was propped open, pouring fresh air into his face to combat the city’s humid stench. His icy gaze locked onto Deeya and their eyes met. The unrestrained hatred she saw there made her heart skip a beat.

She shuddered.

Gods above, cousin. What happened to you?