Dominic spent the next few days both relaxed and on edge, knowing that the road ahead would not be easy, but also confident in his ability to pass it. From the beginning, the viscount had seen him as an enemy—only thinking of using him for the time being to deal with his poor health. Once the lord was fully treated, he knew he’d be thrown away. As long as he knew it was coming, he could prepare.

The viscount wore the same smile he always had as he watched Dominic work during his nighttime checkup—a smile which fit his image of a frail, harmless old man perfectly, a smile Dominic could hardly even see through the impenetrable stench of his mana. It had been bad when they’d first met, but every time he was healed, it only got stronger. At this point, it was like the thick folds of a mudslide.

“Ah…” The viscount sighed in relief as he felt healing power surging through his body. “You really are a wonder, Dominic.”

Dominic didn't respond, only letting go of the his hand. He beckoned towards Silas.

“Come check me.”

“Yes, my lord.”

The servant moved over, closing his eyes as he held the viscount’s wrist in his.

“The treatment has finished,” he said after he finished his inspection. “You are fully healed now, my lord.”

“Amazing.”

He lifted his hand and flicked it towards the door, signaling for Silas to go.

“Leave us for a moment,” he said. “I’d like to talk to the healer.”

The demon nodded and stood. He sent one glance over his shoulder at Dominic on his way out, then closed the door.

“Come closer,” the viscount requested, motioning for Dominic to take a seat beside him. He quietly obeyed.

He took his hand suddenly, and his expression stiffened at the contact. Just being in close proximity to the viscount was hardly bearable.

“I haven't known you long,” he said, “but you’ve truly impressed me in the time you've been here.”

He smiled and stopped talking, as if prodding for a reaction. Dominic reluctantly parted his lips.

“…I’m flattered,” he muttered.

“Oho, there’s no need to be. I simply speak the truth.”

He squeezed his hand in his bony fingers.

“Say, what do you think of remaining here and working for me?” he offered.

“I already do work here, Lord,” Dominic answered.

“Yes,” the viscount replied, “but you don't work for me.”

His eyes narrowed to slits as he smiled, and not one ounce of mirth was in his voice.

“You work for that horrid child of mine, don't you?” he said. “He brought you here. You've been in cahoots for a while.”

Here it was. What Thelo had warned him about.

“He did recommend me here,” Dominic admitted, “but I've never received any orders from him. I work for the estate.”

“Now, now,” he muttered, patting his hand. “No need to hide things between friends. I know he’s requested things from you. I’ve been monitoring everything very carefully, you see. You had tea together a couple days ago?”

“…It was only a casual conversation.”

“I know the kinds of things that child talks about to the people he brings.”

He smiled coldly, their eyes meeting.

“But we’re getting off topic here,” he said. He finally let go of Dominic’s hand, and he had to hold himself back from scratching the residual, slimy mana off his skin. “Regardless of what you spoke of then, I’m here to give you an irresistible offer. Come to my side.”

“Lord, I—”

“I see that you are still going to refuse.”

The viscount scrutinized him carefully, the mirth now gone from his face. Even without getting the words out, he must have been able to tell. Dominic had no intention of working under him, not in a million years.

“Child,” he said, voice cold now, “you are strong. You might be one of the most effective healers I’ve ever met. I don't want to lose such an asset.”

He lifted his far hand, closed into a fist.

“I told you—this is an irresistible offer.”

He opened his fingers, and Dominic immediately froze at what was in his grasp.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

“You can’t refuse.”

Sitting on his palm was a single, crumpled black feather. A crow’s feather. His brow immediately furrowed.

“Don’t worry,” the viscount said calmly. “I haven't even touched a hair on his head yet. I am just keeping a watchful eye out for him.”

He flicked his hand, and the crushed feather flew to the floor.

“But if you step out of line…” he continued. “Then my people will move and hurt him. They are capable of making it painful. If he’s lucky, I guess he might die?”

The viscount laughed, pulling up the sleeve on his left arm. On the skin inside his wrist, four symbols glowed, drawn in mana. Dominic knew what they were—they were used in Vaine too. The symbols were connected to one or more people on the other side, and if they were broken by the viscount, his conspirators would immediately receive the corresponding signal.

“And I suppose you must have already guessed,” the viscount said, “the same goes for your little friend’s family.”

One for Aster, and one for each of his siblings. Dominic’s hands clenched so hard his knuckles turned white. The thought of just reaching over and squeezing the viscount’s neck right then and there flashed through his mind. He forcibly erased it. If the lord died here, the signals to attack the kids would be triggered anyway.

“What do you say?” the viscount prodded.

Dominic bit his lip.

“…Give me some time,” he replied.

“Oh, child, time is not something easy to give.”

“Just until tomorrow, that’s all.”

The noble smiled coldly.

“You have until midnight to decide,” he said. “If you take too long or choose wrong, you know what happens, yes?”

“…Yes.”

“Good.”

He rolled his sleeve back down and flicked his hand.

“You can go now.”

Dominic wordlessly stood and made his way out of the room. He waited for the door to close behind him before looking down at his hands. His fingernails had dug red crescents into his palms. Even though he had been fully aware this was to come, that didn't make it any more pleasant to experience.

The noble had only given him until midnight, but that was more than enough. He had been thinking about what he needed to do when this eventually happened for a while, after all. He began to return to his room, but before he could go far, a tall, broad figure blocked his path.

Dominic tried ignoring Silas and going around. No luck. He stuck out an arm to block him again.

“Have you chosen?” the demon asked, obviously aware of what the viscount had requested.

“No,” he replied bluntly, trying to get around him again.

“What?!”

Silas grabbed him by the shoulder, forcing Dominic to look him in the eyes.

“What exactly are you playing at—”

“Fuck off.”

He balked as he found a pair of burning eyes glaring back at him, in no mood to be dealing with anyone getting in his way.

“I only have until midnight, so go play by yourself or something.”

Dominic shook off his grip and continued down the hall without even looking back. His mind was racing with the long list of things he needed to handle tonight, before anybody caught on.

The door of his room shut harshly behind him, leaving him finally alone. Well, he was artificially alone. Ever since he’d arrived, somebody had been watching him. He hadn't noticed at first, but he had learned how to recognize them. There had been, after all, only one, vague scent that had followed him around everywhere.

He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. There wasn't much to parse—his window was closed, and the furniture of the room wasn't particularly interesting. There was wood, varnish, linen, a residual hint of tea. And among it all, the tiny hint of something else. A scent that resembled the stale, damp air of a basement room seeped slowly into his periphery—a specific mana signature he’d become familiar with in the past few days.

He opened his eyes and glanced around the room. There was hardly anywhere for a spy to hide, but they were in here. And he knew exactly where.

He headed towards one of the walls. Inside, he could tell from the flow of mana that there were pipes—thin things that a couple human fingers couldn't even fit through, let alone a whole person.

But no one said the spy had to be a human.

The signature moved, scrambling through the hidden maze of pipes in the walls to keep some distance from Dominic. They probably didn't know they'd been found out yet. He would only have one chance to deal with them before the alarm was raised.

He sat at a desk by a vent—one of the few places where the spy in the walls would actually be able to see outside. He opened a journal he’d asked Thelo to bring and began crudely writing in it with a brush he’d similarly borrowed.

The mana signature moved closer to him, undoubtedly too curious to hold back. This was the first time Dominic had ever written anything during his stay. As a spy, they had to know what it said.

It cautiously crept closer, that tiny presence crawling towards the vent opening bit by bit. If he hadn't been focused on finding them, he would've missed them altogether. It was an ability to hide that only the most capable spies and assassins in Vaine could match up to, but Dominic was sure that this was considered only average here in Hesia. He was in a failing viscounty, and the signature in the walls didn't even have the foresight to hold back its curiosity.

It came closer. Dominic scrawled a couple more illegible notes down on the paper. And then, just as the spy took one last step towards the vent opening, he dropped his brush.

Before the brush had even hit the table, he thrust his hand forward and through the vent cover. The metal grate bent and snapped under his fingers, the clean geometry deformed beyond recognition. He latched onto the soft body of an animal, which squeaked in shock as it was pulled forcefully out of the vent.

“What are you—!”

“Sleep.”

Dominic cast a sleep spell before he even registered what he was holding. The tiny beast in his hands immediately slumped over, unconscious. Under all the crumpled metal and wood splinters, there appeared to be something like a weasel—its thin, tubular shape making it perfect for hiding in the pipes.

It was as he had guessed—the spies were transformation mages. When he’d met Aster, he had noticed that it was surprisingly difficult to detect him while in crow form. Being able to shift also made it easy to fit into places humans normally couldn't go. It was the perfect combination for a spy. Dominic dumped the unconscious ferret in a pillowcase, tied the end, and put on his cloak.

He undid the latch on his window and pushed it open, the scents of the outside finally flooding in. The sky was a deep black, and in the distance the lights of the entertainment district burned yellow and white. It hummed with energy, heavy and alive. There had to be swathes of people out there, dancing and shouting and holding each other. What a time they must have been having. In contrast, he was not looking forward to his night.

Dominic drew in a deep breath, feeling the tension in his muscles ease a bit. There was no going back now. He had never intended to anyway.

One down, four to go.

He put up the hood of his cloak and jumped.