Chapter 98: The Price II

Chapter 98: Chapter 98: The Price II

The route to Duke Valmort’s study was familiar.

Cassian suspected that was a bad sign.

A servant led him through the manor’s corridors.

Neither spoke.

There was little reason to.

Cassian already knew where this meeting would end.

In the study.

Across from Duke Valmort.

Answering questions he had spent the last week expecting.

It had been less than a week since his previous visit.

Less than a week since he had sat across from the Duke and answered a single question.

Why?

A simple question.

A complicated answer.

Eighteen years, Your Grace.

And she chose me.

The memory returned briefly.

Then faded.

Because today’s conversation would be different.

He knew that before he even entered the house.

The first discussion had been about Marian’s choice.

This one would be about its consequences.

The servant continued forward.

A familiar corridor.

A familiar turn.

Tall windows overlooked the gardens beyond.

For a brief moment Cassian’s gaze drifted outside.

The afternoon sunlight stretched across trimmed hedges and carefully maintained flower beds.

Peaceful.

Orderly.

Unlike the people occupying the manor.

A dangerous thought.

One he wisely kept to himself.

His hand brushed lightly against his coat pocket.

The motion was unconscious.

Habitual.

The note remained there.

A deeply embarrassing fact.

One that would remain confidential.

For everyone’s benefit.

Particularly his own.

The final line surfaced immediately.

Yours,

Marian.

An unfortunate memory.

Not because it troubled him.

Quite the opposite.

The problem was that it had a tendency to destroy his concentration.

A condition he had yet to find a cure for.

Nor was he particularly interested in finding one.

The servant stopped.

A door stood before them.

The study.

Cassian’s expression settled.

The servant knocked.

A pause followed.

Then:

"Enter."

The servant opened the door.

Cassian stepped inside.

Duke Valmort sat behind his desk.

Waiting.

The servant withdrew.

The door closed.

Silence settled over the room.

Not hostile.

Not welcoming.

Simply serious.

The Duke gestured toward the chair opposite him.

"Sit."

Cassian did.

For a moment neither spoke.

The older man’s gaze studied him.

Measuring.

Evaluating.

Searching.

Cassian met the scrutiny calmly.

Eventually Duke Valmort leaned back.

"The last time we spoke, Duke Ashford, we discussed the heart."

Cassian remained silent.

The Duke continued.

"Today, we discuss the price."

Direct.

Expected.

Necessary.

The Duke folded his hands.

"You understand that Marian is not merely my daughter."

"I do."

"Do you?"

The question came immediately.

Sharp.

The Duke’s gaze remained fixed on him.

"Most men see a beautiful young woman."

Cassian said nothing.

"Some see a duchy’s future."

The Duke’s expression hardened slightly.

"Very few understand what that actually means."

A pause.

Then:

"Marian does not inherit Valmort."

Cassian nodded.

The Duke watched him carefully.

Waiting.

Seeing whether he truly understood.

Cassian did.

Or believed he did.

The Duke continued.

"Valmort passes through Marian."

The words settled heavily between them.

"The man she marries determines the future of this duchy."

Another pause.

"His children determine its future after that."

Silence.

Neither man looked away.

For generations, the arrangement had been simple.

Predictable.

Marian would marry Adrian.

One child would inherit the Empire.

Another would inherit Valmort.

The balance remained intact.

Everyone understood the future.

Then Marian made her choice.

And suddenly the future became complicated.

The Duke rose.

Walking slowly toward the window.

"You are not the problem."

Cassian’s eyebrow lifted slightly.

The Duke noticed.

A faint smile touched his lips.

Brief.

Humorless.

"That surprises you?"

"A little."

"It shouldn’t."

The Duke looked out over the gardens.

"You are a duke."

A statement.

Not praise.

"You are respected."

Another statement.

"You are capable."

He turned slightly.

Meeting Cassian’s gaze.

"Which is precisely why you complicate everything."

There it was.

The truth.

Simple.

Honest.

The Duke returned to his desk.

"If you were a lesser man, this would be easier."

Cassian said nothing.

Because he understood exactly what Duke Valmort meant.

A lesser man could be dismissed.

Ignored.

Rejected.

Cassian could not.

The Duke settled into his chair once more.

"You understand what happens if Marian marries you."

"I understand some of it."

"Then allow me to explain the rest."

The words carried no hostility.

Only experience.

Years of it.

Decades.

The weight of a man who had spent most of his life navigating politics.

"If Marian marries Adrian, everyone knows what comes next."

A simple statement.

"Should she marry you?"

The Duke’s gaze sharpened.

"The Emperor becomes involved."

Cassian nodded.

"The succession becomes involved."

Another nod.

"The future of Valmort becomes involved."

Silence.

The Duke leaned forward slightly.

"And every noble in the Empire suddenly develops an opinion."

A deeply unfortunate reality.

One neither man disputed.

The Duke studied him for several moments.

Then asked:

"If the Emperor refuses?"

Cassian answered immediately.

"Then we face that obstacle."

The Duke’s expression did not change.

"If Valmort loses privileges?"

"Then we face that obstacle."

"If Ashford loses influence?"

"Then we face that obstacle."

"If your standing suffers?"

"Then we face that obstacle."

The answers came calmly.

Without hesitation.

Without drama.

The Duke listened.

Patiently.

Then asked:

"And if it costs you something?"

Cassian looked at him.

The answer felt obvious.

"Then it costs me something."

Silence.

The Duke’s gaze lingered.

Long.

Thoughtful.

Not because the answer surprised him.

Because it didn’t.

He had expected exactly that response.

Eventually the older man sighed.

A tired sound.

One belonging more to a father than a duke.

"And if it costs Marian something?"

The room became still.

Cassian’s expression changed.

Only slightly.

Yet the Duke noticed.

Of course he noticed.

The older man had been waiting for that reaction.

The Duke leaned back.

Watching.

Carefully.

"If she loses her position."

Silence.

"If she loses her influence."

Silence.

"If she loses the future she was raised to expect."

Cassian listened.

Every word.

The Duke’s voice remained calm.

Measured.

Almost gentle.

Which somehow made the questions harder.

"Marian is brave."

A statement.

Not a question.

"She believes she understands the consequences."

Another pause.

"Perhaps she does."

The Duke’s gaze never left him.

"But she is also twenty."

The words settled heavily between them.

Twenty.

Young enough to believe in love.

Young enough to wager everything on it.

The Duke continued.

"What happens if she regrets it?"

For the first time since entering the room—

Cassian did not answer immediately.

The silence stretched.

Long.

Honest.

Because the question hurt.

Not because he doubted Marian.

He didn’t.

Not because he doubted himself.

He didn’t.

But because he had already considered it.

Late at night.

Alone.

In moments he discussed with no one.

The possibility that one day Marian might look back and decide the cost had been too high.

The possibility that she might suffer because of him.

The possibility that loving him might hurt her.

More than once.

More than he cared to admit.

The Duke watched him.

Waiting.

Patient.

Relentless.

Like only a father could be.

"What happens, Duke Ashford..."

The older man’s voice lowered slightly.

"...if one day my daughter wishes she had chosen differently?"

The question settled between them.

Heavy.

Impossible.

And for the first time since the conversation began—

Cassian found himself searching for an answer.

End Chapter 99