Lysander moved with purpose, though his outward expression was serene, almost casual. The events of the council meeting replayed in his mind, a swirl of information that he would soon piece together into a coherent strategy. The Kurogane, the rival noble houses, Valen’s tightening grip on the succession—each of these variables would need to be manipulated carefully if he was to emerge victorious. And emerge he would.

But first, he needed to gather information.

The castle library, vast and underused by anyone except the scholars and historians, was his refuge. It was not only a place of knowledge but a place of quiet, where the ever-watchful eyes of his enemies, both real and imagined, could not reach. Lysander had long since learned that battles were won and lost not in the open, but in the shadows, where whispered secrets and half-truths could turn the tide of war just as surely as a well-placed dagger.

As he approached the heavy wooden doors, he found them ajar. Odd. The library was typically deserted this early in the day. Lysander paused, his senses heightened. Perhaps someone had the same idea as him.

Pushing the door open silently, Lysander slipped inside, his footsteps muffled by the thick carpet. The smell of old parchment and leather-bound tomes filled the air, familiar and comforting. The library stretched out before him, rows upon rows of shelves laden with the kingdom’s history, knowledge, and, most importantly, its secrets.

He moved toward the back, to a secluded corner where the more ancient texts were kept—texts that detailed not only the kingdom’s glorious past but the political machinations that had shaped it. His fingers brushed over the spines of several old volumes, selecting one at random. As he flipped through the brittle pages, his mind was already racing with possibilities.

“Digging for secrets again, Lysander?”

The voice was soft, almost a whisper, but it startled him nonetheless. He spun around, his eyes narrowing as they settled on the figure who had spoken.

There, in the dim light filtering through the high windows, stood Sibel.

Lysander’s heart skipped a beat, though he quickly masked his surprise with a smile. “Sibel. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

Her lips curved into a small smile, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “Nor I, you. I thought the battlefield was more to your taste these days. But here you are, surrounded by dusty tomes.”

She took a step closer, her gaze sharp and inquisitive. Lysander resisted the urge to step back, to retreat into the comfort of solitude. He wasn’t afraid of Sibel—far from it—but he knew her too well to underestimate her.

“I’ve always found that the pen is mightier than the sword,” Lysander replied, his tone light. “Or at least, it can be, in the right hands.”

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Sibel tilted her head, studying him. “And you believe your hands are those hands?”

Lysander chuckled, closing the book in his hands with a soft thud. “It’s a matter of perspective, really. Some battles require a more… subtle approach.”

Sibel’s smile widened, though her eyes remained cold. “Subtlety is certainly one of your strengths, dear brother. But I wonder… are you playing the right game?”

Lysander met her gaze, unflinching. “The game is whatever we make of it, Sibel. You should know that better than anyone.”

For a moment, they stood in silence, the air between them thick with unspoken tension. Lysander couldn’t help but admire her—Sibel was intelligent, cunning, and more than capable of playing the game of thrones. But she was also careful, methodical in a way that Lysander found predictable. She operated within the confines of tradition and expectation, whereas he… well, he thrived in chaos.

And chaos was coming.

Sibel broke the silence first. “Father is worried.”

Lysander raised an eyebrow. “About the Kurogane?”

“About many things,” Sibel said, her tone measured. “But yes, the Kurogane are a concern. More than you realize.”

Lysander leaned against the nearby bookshelf, feigning disinterest. “I assume you have some insight you’re willing to share?”

Sibel’s gaze darkened. “You always did think you were the cleverest one in the room, didn’t you?”

“Only when I’m right.”

Her eyes flashed, but she didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, she stepped closer, lowering her voice. “The Kurogane are not acting alone. There are whispers… alliances being formed in the shadows.”

Lysander’s smile faded slightly. “With whom?”

“That’s the question, isn’t it?” Sibel replied, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know yet. But if these rumors are true, the Kurogane are planning something far more dangerous than a mere border skirmish.”

Lysander frowned, his mind racing. If Sibel was right, then this could be the opening he had been waiting for. Chaos. Distrust. The perfect conditions for a power grab.

But he couldn’t let her know that.

He straightened, adopting a more thoughtful expression. “If that’s the case, we’ll need to tread carefully. We can’t afford to let this escalate into a full-blown rebellion.”

Sibel nodded, though her gaze remained calculating. “Agreed. Which is why I came to you. We may not see eye to eye on many things, Lysander, but we both know that the future of the kingdom is at stake.”

Lysander tilted his head slightly, studying her. Sibel wasn’t one to make alliances lightly. If she was coming to him now, it meant that she saw him as either an ally… or a threat. Either way, it meant that she was hedging her bets, preparing for whatever storm was brewing.

“I assume you have a plan?” he asked, keeping his tone neutral.

“I do,” Sibel said, her voice steady. “But I need your support.”

Lysander resisted the urge to smirk. “And what exactly do you need from me?”

Sibel hesitated for the briefest of moments before replying. “I need you to speak to Father. Convince him that we need to act now, before it’s too late. If we wait, if we hesitate… the Kurogane and their allies will have the upper hand.”

Lysander pretended to consider her words, though in truth, his mind was already calculating the potential benefits and risks. If he aligned himself with Sibel now, it could give him an advantage, at least in the short term. But he also knew that Sibel was dangerous—if she saw an opportunity to turn on him, she would take it without hesitation.

Still, the idea of gaining more influence over their father was tempting. He could use this alliance to his advantage, play the role of the dutiful son while working behind the scenes to secure his own position.

“Very well,” Lysander said at last, his voice calm. “I’ll speak to Father. But know this, Sibel—if you’re asking for my help, then I expect something in return.”

Sibel’s eyes gleamed with a flicker of amusement. “Of course. I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

With that, she turned and walked away, leaving Lysander alone once more in the shadowy recesses of the library.

As the door closed behind her, Lysander exhaled slowly, his mind already racing ahead. The Kurogane. Secret alliances. Sibel’s sudden need for his support. It was all falling into place, just as he had predicted.

But there was one thing Sibel didn’t know.

Lysander had already been preparing for this moment. He had his own network of informants, his own web of secrets that stretched far beyond the walls of the castle. And if the Kurogane were planning something, Lysander would know before anyone else.

He allowed himself a small smile as he picked up the ancient tome again, flipping through the pages with renewed focus. Let the others scramble in the dark, chasing shadows and rumors. He would be ready, and when the time came, he would strike.

Because in the end, there was only one rule that mattered.

The game was never truly about winning.

It was about surviving. And Lysander intended to survive longer than anyone else.