In the Commerro’s main estate in Ovespuerte, there was one room secluded from the rest of the common areas of the castle. It only possesses a sofa, illuminated by a single window, facing a wide golden window. Embedded within the bricks of the room are runes that prevented sound from leaking to the outside. The windows too, were blackened with [Darkness] Spells to prevent [Rogues] who can lip-read from afar. All of these are examined by an aging [Enchanter] that Torresso hired.

“Do the enchantments still function?”

Torresso had barged into the secluded space he used for private conversations over communication spells.

“Yes, my lord. There is minimal enchantment decay. Negligible, even. I took the liberty of charging them with my mana.” The [Enchanter] answered.

“Thank you, Enchanter Encrantor. Is the connection secure?” Torresso asked, pointing at the golden mirror.

“Yes. The scrying conduit is secure. Unusually so.”

Torresso sat on the sofa as he watched the [Enchanter] inserting stones engraved with runes in the carved slots next to the mirror. The mirror came to life, showing the face of the vermillion-haired former Duke, now in one of the Gaviolos’ estates. Torresso shooed the [Enchanter] away.

“So, did the debt trap of yours work, Contiearl?” Dustitoz asked.

“To an extent.” Contiearl succinctly replied.

The former Duke’s voice rang like metal, from the limitations of the communication spells and the medium that they are using.

“What do you mean? Did you get that book?” Dustitoz interrogated.

“The boo–are you sure that this is a safe way to communicate? Opportunists might intercept this.” Commerro was especially paranoid today, with a bead of sweat on his forehead.

“Not to fear. I have [Greater Resistance: Spycraft]. From that damned [Spymaster]. He really gave me a hard time, you know. And I hope that his brat isn’t that clever. So, where’s the book?”

“It’s not in my possession. My men can’t find it in his office.”

Torresso felt that he was being stared at as if Dustitoz was here with him.

“You’re telling the truth. So what of that bastard child? I suppose with your power, you could arrest him with cause.”Dustitoz assumed.

“No, I did not detain him.” Torresso flatly stated.

“So what? Are you going to let him be?” Dustitoz stood up, spilling his glass of wine on the floor.

“Of course not. He is still useful to me. However, I will continually drain his income until he submits to me.”

“Are you a housecat? Playing with your food? Mice like him should be crushed as soon as you saw him. Have you considered that he might be selling the information in the book? I made the same mistake long ago, playing with that [Spymaster] whom I underestimated.”

The Contiearl went silent.

“I shall overturn every stone in my city to find every [Information Broker] in my city.”

“You should’ve done it long ago.”

The moving image of the golden mirror winked out. Dustitoz saw the spilled wine already replaced with another one by one of the estate’s [Servants].

“Competent people. That’s what I need.” Dustitoz muttered.

The [Ambassador] of Thousand Roads silently stood behind Dustitoz.

“My mistress expects the book–”

“I know what your mistress wants. I’m working on it. But incompetence plaques me.” Dustitoz cut off Dosinyu.

“What about that [Lady]? The Kaminor?”

“It is too early to use that card. And it would be humiliating for her if the nobility learned that the Kaminors of all Houses could be forced by a Contract-Feat. I plan to use it in case he was allowed a trial to the Ichoricon.”

“So you are clever after all.”

“I can hear your thoughts, you know.” Dustitoz glared at Dosinyu, who often didn’t voice out his true thoughts.

“Apologies.” Dosinyu slightly bowed with false deference.

“Every decent noble can read intention. The best of us could delve deep into minds. Too bad that your homeland’s nobility went extinct.”

“False. They still exist as the Peers of the Valley. But there is no point throwing slights at each other. My first impressions of you were clearly wrong.”

Dustitoz chuckled, tossing a grape into his mouth.

“Although back in that tent, Contiearl Torresso thinks otherwise,” Dosinyu interjected.

“What do you mean, exactly?”

“He simply thinks you are pathetic. A dead weight to his plans. He wants more of the reward that my mistress will give by leaving you out.”

“I see.”

The table vibrated under the rage exuded by his Aura, making the glass of wine fall and shatter on the ground.

“He may be more of a steward than me, but I’m the Duc of Gaviolos. The true heir of the Torregornian throne!”

A Scroll of Messages appeared in his hand, and he instantly unfurled it. A quill floated towards him.

“I’ll make sure that boy will regret setting foot on this land. I’ll deny him the funds he needs with my quill. And I’ll talk to that upstart Contiearl soon.”

-

A banquet was set up in the Commerran estate upon the return of their prodigal son. The table was filled with seafood in season: shrimps, fish, mussels, and even jellyfish. The food was also flavored with spices from the eastern and southern continents. Wine and juice were in plentiful supply with the [Servants] at their beck and call.

On the leading seats of the long carved coral table were the Contiearl and her spouse, Strraina Commerro; the heads of their noble house. Before they were their sons, Racieros, the youngest child, and Verrespadion, the eldest of the brothers, both from different mothers on opposite sides of the table. For a moment, Torresso glanced at an empty chair beside Racieros.

“Let us celebrate the return of our precious son from his victory in Inquel.”

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They raised their goblets and banged them against each other.

“Tell me about the battle. I shall call for a [Bard] to chronicle your story and make it into song.” Torresso said.

“You have no need for that. It was a simple battle against the peasants of Iquelica. A frontier skirmish.” Verrespadion declined.

“Humble as always,” Strraina remarked.

“Thank you,” Verrespadion said. “I want to know how my brother is doing. I had been gone far too long.”

“Fine, thank you,” Racieros muttered. Verrespadion was concerned about the gloom that loomed over his younger brother’s face.

“Last time I heard, you were given the town of Ascogres to practice your stewardship,” Verrespadion recalled.

“Yes.”

“So how was it?”

“Dizzying.”

“It’s a part of our duties as nobility, unfortunately.”

“Fortunately, there is a [Merchant] who was helping me with the monetary side of things.”

“A [Merchant]?”

Torresso’s ears perked up. What was his son doing, talking about the Brothers?

“Racieros had exterminated Goblins recently. At the cost of putting the town that he was in charge of in danger. Hence why he’s staying here for now.” Torresso redirected the conversation away from mentioning the Gildin Brothers. Racieros’ ears went red with embarrassment.

"That is understandable. One should not put all of his fish in a pot, to quote a local saying." Verrespadion said. "If you lead armies someday, be mindful of those under your command."

"Yes. I know." Racieros tersely replied.

Torresso gave his youngest son a glare that could pierce armor. The banquet continued as it were, however silent Racieros had been during the conversations between Torresso, Strraina, and their eldest son. The banquet soon finished just as night fell. Verrespadion saw his younger brother head off to his room, but he decided to follow his father briskly walking towards the battlements.

“...Sweep the entire city! I want those [Information Brokers] found!”

The [Guard Captain] briskly bowed to Torresso before rushing to muster the rest of the [Guardsmen] to do the Contiearl’s bidding. Lanterns were lit and spears and shields were picked up. [Runners] had begun racing through the dim streets to spread the order around to the smaller garrisons and the other [Soldiers] on the battlements within the city. Those in the Decreeist temples were summoned in order to use their Miracles for this mission: filtering out supposed criminals.

“Father.” Verrespadion stepped out from the stairs of the battlements.

“Verre.” Torresso faced his first son. The son that he sired from his first wife. His vermillion hair hurts to look at; he looks too much like his mother.

“I have so many questions, Father.”

Verrespadion had always dropped the traditional forms of address whenever they were alone.

“Questions?”

“First, I heard you ordered the arrest of a couple of innocents without a valid basis on the Divine Decree. Second, I do not know why are you treating my brother in that way. I saw you use a Feat to shut him up.”

Torresso’s palms wettened with sweat, but his eyes locked on his son.

“These were the men of two [Traders] who did not pay their debts.”

“And I assume that those are the [Traders] my brother is talking about.”

They shared a tense moment. The air shimmered between them, forming a faint wall of air.

“Your [Guard Captain] did not specify in what exact Decree that they broke.”

“It’s because he is a commoner!”

“We and the [Priests] had elucidated them on the Divine Decree. As the nobility, we had taken great strides to educate our subjects on what laws to follow, and on what laws to not break to not disrupt the Great Order. This is no excuse.”

“I have the Noble’s Obligation to maintain the Great Order.”

“I don’t believe you are obligated to arrest them, however. When I locked blades with one of them…a [Fighter] of great skill, I did not feel the cruelty of their blade. I felt sorrow. I felt his conviction. I know, because I’m a [Paladin], as well as a [Knight] and [Viscount]. And, as I said, your man did not cite the right Decree of Justice, as a proper believer of the divine law should.”

“I raised you too well.”

“As you should. You are my father, after all.”

“I’m doing this for a reason. Political reasons that I could not embroil you yet.”

“Our existence is political enough.” Verrespadion countered. “So tell me. Tell me why are you treating my step-brother like this. Who are those [Traders]? Are they the reason why?”

“Yes. But–”

[A Secret Kept Between Us]. It feels like an invisible, incorporeal hand caressed the inside of Torresso’s throat. He almost forgot he made a binding agreement with that Satyr [Ambassador], and that agreement threatened to strangle them if he said another world, even if he could exert his Aura outwards to destroy it.

“I can’t tell you.”

Torresso hoped that Verrespadion saw the Feat binding him.

“Then keep my brother out of this, if you aren’t willing to tell me. In fact, if he wants to, I’ll charter a carriage back to his town of Ascogres.”

“You dare?”

“Unless you tell me the full story. Then I would understand why are you doing this and act appropriately. I do not know why my dear stepbrother is unhappy, but I assume that you are part of it. I do not want him to be embroiled in whatever political battle you have.”

Verrespadion walked away from his father. Torresso sighed and stared at the moon rising from the ocean. He didn’t find Racieros in his room and assumed that he was in the courtyard. He found him sitting on a weathered stone bench.

“Hey.”

Verrespadion awkwardly sat beside Racieros.

“How are you doing?”

“Fine.” Racieros avoided his step-brother's eyes.

The evening breeze itself seemed to sigh.

“I wanted to ask, who are those [Traders] that helped you?”

Racieros hesitated to tell him at first, but eventually, he told his step-brother about the Gildin Brothers and their service to Torresso and how Numisley is the true son of Marhyiana and Jascias Naveirei. although he omitted the mention of the Book of Secrets. So Verrespadion surmised that this is a political move by his father to discredit Numisley’s true heritage.

“So where are they now?” Verrespadion asked.

“I do not know,” Racieros asked. “Why did you want to know, anyway?”

“I just want you to know what you are doing. I was concerned. Our father was mistreating you.”

“I’m fine.” Racieros dismissed. “I don’t need your help.”

I don’t need your patronizing. The words rumbled within his chest, trapped within. His eldest step-brother, the original and the purest scion of the Commerros is a constant reminder of his inadequacies. Their father and even his mother lauded him, showering him with appreciation. He went to war and dueled the enemy commanders of Iquelica and other domains while he was still struggling with swinging his practice sword. Yet it was not purely love, nor total hate he felt for his brother; made murky by jealousy and insecurity.

“Do you want to go back to Ascogres?” Verrespadion asked.

“What do you mean?” Racieros asked.

“With all this going on, I think you should be safe, away from politics here. I’ll handle Father. I believe that he is unjust for denying a scion of a Naveirei, much less the son of the heroes of the kingdom, the right to an Ichoricon.”

Racieros sat deep in thought. Cultrost and Numisley are already acquainted with him and Ascogres, as they had already set up shop there with Çienten the [Brewer]. If there was a chance that he could see Cultrost again, then he would take it.

“Are you going to arrange transport?” Racieros asked.

“Yes,” Verrespadion answered. “You can stay as long as you want there. Besides, you should learn more about managing a town, before you’ll inherit a couple more.”

Racieros acquiesced. The brothers had snuck to the stables, acquiring a carriage. Verrespadion ordered four available [Knights] to escort the carriage, and Racieros had left, without the [Guards] of the city noticing them as they rounded up the few [Information Brokers] in the city.

Verrespadion braced himself for his father’s wrath tomorrow.