Chapter 156: Foolish Mortal II

Chapter 156: 156: Foolish Mortal II

Aldren’s face became heavier. "Because the man is not from some small noble house that I can offend and survive."

Elowen’s lips trembled. "Who is he?"

Aldren looked at her for a long moment, as if saying the name itself tasted bitter.

"Lord Garrick Velkhur."

Elowen’s face lost more color.

Lucard’s eyes moved slightly.

Velkhur.

Again.

The name had followed him from Gravehold to Stoneford like a bad smell carried by wind.

Aldren continued, "He is the younger brother of the current Duke Velkhur’s father. In the family, people call him an elder. He does not stand in the very center of the main line, but he stands close enough to touch it. He is old, cruel, and rotten with pleasure. Everyone knows his habit. He takes young girls as mistresses the way greedy men collect cups. He already has more than fifty women locked inside his estates, and still he keeps reaching for more."

Elowen looked as if she might be sick.

Aldren’s voice became rougher. "Do you think I did not know what kind of man he is? Do you think I wanted to send my daughter into that den? I have heard stories. Servants talk. Merchants talk. Guards talk when drunk. Some girls enter his house wearing silk and jewels. After that, their families receive gold coins, but the girls stop appearing in public. A few return years later like empty shells. Most do not return at all."

Elowen whispered, "Then why did you agree?"

Aldren looked away for the first time.

"Because House Stoneford serves House Velkhur."

The words fell heavily inside the hollow.

He clenched his wounded arm, but the pain from the cut seemed smaller than the pain in his pride. "My father swore service to Velkhur before I became city lord. His father before him did the same. Stoneford sits on a hunting route and an old trade road. We hold this city because Velkhur allows us to hold it. Our soldiers are not enough to reject them. Our walls are not high enough to stop them. Our treasury is not deep enough to buy safety from another duke family. If Velkhur tells us to bow, we bow. If they tell us to send gold coins, we send gold coins. If they tell us to open the road, we open the road."

Elowen shook her head slowly. "No..."

"Yes," Aldren said. "That is what being a baron under a duke means when the duke family is hungry. In public, they call it loyalty. In documents, they call it protection. In truth, it is a hand around the throat. If I refused Lord Garrick openly, he would not need to kill us himself. A tax order would arrive. A monster report would be ignored. Our supply contracts would vanish. Red Hook would be declared criminals instead of useful hands. Rival houses would be encouraged. Our guards would be bought. One winter, one blocked road, one false accusation, and House Stoneford would break."

Elowen’s tears fell again. "So you were going to give me to him because you were afraid."

Aldren flinched, but he did not deny it.

"Yes," he said. "I was afraid."

The answer made her cry harder because it was not the answer of a monster. It was the answer of a weak father who knew he was weak.

Aldren continued, "And because the offer came with benefits. That is the ugly part. If I agreed, Stoneford would gain protection from Velkhur’s main branch. Our debts would be reduced. Soldiers would be sent for the eastern road. Monster hunting rights would be expanded. Merchants would stop squeezing us. Some smaller houses would lower their heads because we would become connected to Velkhur by law and bed. On paper, it was a good deal for the city."

His voice shook once.

"On paper, my daughter was only one name written beside all those benefits."

Elowen covered her mouth, but the sound still came out.

Aldren’s eyes reddened. "I told myself it was duty. I told myself you would live better as Lord Garrick’s mistress than as a dead daughter of a destroyed house. I told myself you would have silk, servants, jewels, and protection. I told myself many things because men like me need lies to sleep. But every lie had the same truth under it. I was going to sacrifice you because I did not have enough strength to refuse."

The hollow became quiet.

Even the Red Hook men did not raise their heads.

Lucard watched Aldren with mild interest.

This baron was weak, but not blind. Many mortals sinned and then wrapped the sin in beautiful words until they forgot what they had done. Aldren had tried to do that, but he had not succeeded fully. He still knew the shape of his own ugliness. That made him more interesting than most.

Elowen’s voice broke. "So you were going to sell me."

Aldren closed his eyes for one breath. "Yes."

The simple answer struck harder than a long excuse.

Then he opened his eyes again. "No. Selling is too clean a word. I was going to hand you over to a wolf and call it peace. I was going to watch you disappear into House Velkhur and tell myself that Stoneford survived because of your sacrifice."

Elowen’s knees weakened, but she did not fall.

Aldren looked toward Lucard.

"And then I found you here with him."

Lucard’s expression did not change.

Aldren looked at the dead cave stalkers, the broken stone, the wound on his own arm, and the young man standing calmly in the middle of it all. "A young man who can kill cave stalkers alone. A young man who can counter a Fourth Circle mage while standing one rank lower. A young man who injures me and does not even breathe hard after doing it."

Lucard said, "You are drawing the wrong conclusion."

Aldren ignored him completely.

"A man like this does not appear by chance," Aldren said. "You found someone who can protect you better than I can."

Elowen’s face became red through her tears. "Father, no. It is not like that."

Lucard said, "It is definitely not like that."

Aldren looked at Lucard, then at Elowen, and his expression became even more certain. "Both of you say it too quickly."

Lucard stared at him.

For a moment, he wondered if the wound on Aldren’s arm had somehow reached his brain.

Aldren continued, "Do not worry. I am not asking questions. A father does not need every detail when the truth is already standing in front of him."

"There is no truth standing in front of you," Lucard said. "Only your own foolish imagination."

Aldren nodded in the same wrong way as before. "Good. Cold. Sharp. Not easily shaken. That is better than a sweet-tongued boy."

Lucard’s eyes became flat.

Elowen looked as if she wanted the ground to open and swallow her. "Father, please listen to him. He does not care about me that way. He brought me here because I paid him with the map."

Aldren turned to her. "And yet he stayed after receiving it."

"Because monsters came."

"He fought them."

"Because they attacked."

"He healed the unicorn."

"Because I gave him the map."

"He fought me."

"Because you attacked him."

Aldren paused.

Then he said, "Exactly. Every reason is practical. That is better. A man who can be useful before he becomes sentimental is safer."

Lucard blinked once.

He had heard gods speak nonsense with more grace than this.

A thought moved through him.

Mortals are such interesting foolish creatures.

Aldren had built a tower of wrong thoughts, but every time someone tried to remove one stone, he used it to build higher. It was almost impressive. Not intelligence. Something opposite of intelligence, but stubborn enough to survive argument.

Lucard could correct him ten times, and Aldren would only hear ten more signs that his daughter had found a cold protector. The baron wanted to believe it. Not because it was true, but because the belief freed him from a choice he hated. If Elowen had a protector strong enough to wound him, then letting her go was no longer abandonment. It became a father’s final mercy.

Lucard understood that part.

It was still stupid.

But useful stupidity had value.

Velkhur wanted the girl.

Velkhur had already wronged House Vardros in Gravehold.

Dorian was dead. Garran was dead. Lady Mirena had given him the name Mudblood Heir and sent it spreading. Now another Velkhur elder, a dirty old man with more than fifty mistresses, wanted to swallow a baron’s daughter because Stoneford was too weak to refuse.

The corners of Lucard’s mouth almost moved.

Interesting.

He had left Gravehold to grow stronger and gather useful people. He had not planned to poke Velkhur again so soon. But if Velkhur placed its hand in front of him, why should he not cut a finger and see who screamed?

A duke family was large. Too large to fight openly yet. But large families had loose ends. Side elders. Greedy relatives. Branches with bad habits. Hidden debts. Dirty desires. People like Lord Garrick Velkhur were not only enemies. They were doors. Break the right rotten door, and the smell inside the house would spread.