Chapter 40 - Resolved

Chapter 40: 40 - Resolved

The feast carried on after Amelia disappeared down the path, but Adrien didn’t see her again that evening. He checked the square once, passed Vael and Evelyne still talking, and found Ariane working through another plate of desserts before deciding Amelia probably wanted some space.

Lucien found him near one of the tables not long after. "What happened? Amelia came back distracted, disappeared inside, and hasn’t come out since."

"We talked. Properly this time," Adrien said, taking a drink. When Lucien waited for more, he added, "It went well. That’s all you’re getting for now."

Lucien studied him for a moment before letting it go. "Alright. Fine. I’d rather not spend tomorrow deciding whether I need to put an arrow through you."

"Still committed to that?"

"I’ve known her most of my life. You’re going to have to live with it."

That reminded Adrien of something. "Actually, what exactly are you to her? You talk about Vael like you’ve lived with them forever."

"Pretty close. Vael adopted me when I was young, and Amelia and I grew up together. We are family."

Adrien nodded. "That explains the threats. And thanks for earlier. You were irritating about it, but you were right."

"So the threat worked."

"The advice worked. The threat just made it memorable."

Elsewhere in Elyndor, Amelia sat alone on the edge of her bed, replaying the same moment despite knowing it wasn’t helping. She had actually kissed him first, something she’d never done before, and the thought still brought heat back into her face.

’I was clear enough, wasn’t I?’

She had told him she was interested, kissed him, and made it obvious she wanted to know him better. There wasn’t much room left for misunderstanding.

Back at the feast, Adrien was thinking about the same conversation from the opposite side. He hadn’t missed what Amelia was doing; he’d noticed the interest and understood what she wanted well before Lucien spelled it out.

The problem had never been reading her. It was trusting what he read enough to act on it.

In his old life, trusting the wrong person could ruin everything very quickly. That instinct hadn’t disappeared just because he’d woken up somewhere else, but this life was already different in enough ways that maybe this could be too.

Adrien glanced toward the house she’d disappeared into.

’I suppose there’s nothing wrong with giving it a chance.’

The next morning, far from Elyndor, a mana-powered carriage rolled through the gates of Greymoor. It was black, polished enough to reflect the courtyard around it, with silver trim running along the doors and a crest Adrien would have recognised immediately.

House Arquenay.

The carriage stopped directly in front of the main steps. One of the servants hurried forward to receive whoever was inside, but the door opened before he reached it.

Gaspard Arquenay stepped down personally.

He adjusted one glove and took in the damaged walls, the repaired fencing visible beyond the yard, and the men Garrick had already started putting through drills. His attention moved across all of it without much reaction before finally settling on the house.

"So this is what’s left of Greymoor."

Nobody answered him, and Gaspard seemed perfectly comfortable with that. He straightened the front of his coat and started toward the steps as though he had every right to be there.

...

Far away from Greymoor, Elyndor, and every road connecting the two, another conversation was taking place.

The room had no windows. A table occupied most of it, with several figures seated around its edges, though the poor light made faces difficult to hold onto for long. A stack of papers rested in front of one of them.

Eventually, a voice broke the quiet.

"What is the current state of the Alaric Clairmont matter? Has everything been dealt with?"

A page turned before someone answered. "Resolved. The final pieces were handled several days ago, and there should be nothing left requiring intervention."

"Alaric is dead," another voice confirmed from further down the table. "That portion of the matter is finished."

"Then can we close it entirely, or is there anything remaining that may become troublesome later?"

The person with the papers paused before turning another page.

"There is one detail worth noting. His son inherited the family seat after his death."

"Adrien Clairmont?"

"Yes. Eighteen years old. He awakened recently after remaining coreless for most of his life. The Crown assessment registered a Mage Path and one SSS talent."

That earned the first real pause in the room.

"An SSS talent? Which one? What has come up?"

"Absolute Mana Sense."

Someone shifted in their chair. "Sounds useful, certainly."

Another voice came from further down the table.

"Do we consider him dangerous?"

"At present, there is no reason to believe so. He’s young, weak by any meaningful standard, and House Clairmont has lost most of its influence." The papers shifted beneath one hand. "Still, an SSS talent deserves attention. We should keep an eye on him."

A few seconds passed before another question came.

"Do we alter the assessment?"

"No."

"Why leave it as it is?"

The answer came without hesitation.

"Because Alaric Clairmont was the problem." The folder closed beneath one hand. "His son is not."