The other minor lords reluctantly returned to their seats, their expressions a mix of rage and unease. None dared speak, but their thoughts were loud enough—anger, confusion, and fear now aid squarely at Corven.
"That’s better," Corven said, whistling casually as he leaned into one palm. His posture scread nonchalance, but his eyes remained sharp. He wanted them to feel uneasy—threatened—by how unaffected he looked.
But Heinrich and Heist weren’t ready to let Corven seize control of the entire conversation. Not yet. They needed to reassert themselves—if only to maintain the illusion of power.
"What’s the aning of this?" Heinrich asked, voice stiff. He didn’t look at Corven. Instead, he turned to Aisha, planting a hand firmly on the table. His gaze was sharp, demanding answers—but still avoiding the man who had just shaken the room.
Aisha’s lips curled faintly. She was clearly pleased by the sudden shift in power dynamics. This wasn’t the result she had expected—but it was better. Much better.
She had hoped they would grow more cooperative. Instead, they were shaken. Submissive. And most importantly—afraid.
"Then, let begin with the truth," Aisha said, her tone clear and confident now, no longer needing to tread carefully.
The paladins behind her gave a small nod of approval. There was sothing different in the air—Aisha had regained control, and they were eager to support her with it.
"This is the man who saved from Crestfall’s attack—the one who killed the traitor himself." She gestured toward Corven, her voice steady. "And well... my new partner."
Corven grinned and gave a childish wave, his expression playful to the point of mockery.
"It’ll be nice working with you two," he said with a mischievous glint in his eyes. His grin made it abundantly clear—he was going to enjoy ssing with them.
Heist’s hands curled into fists as the initial shock finally began to wear off. His breathing evened out just enough for him to speak again—though the tremble in his voice lingered.
"This is an outrage!" he snapped. "You can’t expect us to believe that! No vampire has ever reached the level of the three clans like this!"
"Especially not soone who defeated Leywin!" Heinrich added, his voice laced with disbelief.
"This has to be so kind of bluff. A trick. He’s a spy—nothing more!" Heist’s voice cracked as he shouted, desperation rising with each word. None of this made sense to them. It didn’t add up.
From their point of view, all they knew was that Leywin had fallen—and that his clan was being purged. They had assud it was a team effort from Aisha’s paladins, or that the Baroness herself had sohow cornered and overwheld him.
It never occurred to them that an outsider—alone—could bring down a lord.
"You seriously can’t be considering this! What if he’s a threat!?" Heinrich turned to Aisha, practically begging for reason.
"He’s the sa one who saved your heir," Aisha responded, unshaken. "The least you could do is show him so respect. And as for being a threat—if he was, I’d be dead already."
That shut them both up. The weight of her statent landed heavily in the room. It wasn’t just a defense—it was a reminder of Corven’s restraint.
"Is that satisfactory enough?" Aisha asked coolly. "If not, then please, redirect any further concerns to your baron directly."
She turned to Corven with a light chuckle. Her gaze had shifted. There was no longer detachnt or mild curiosity in it. Instead, there was sothing closer to respect—uneven, unspoken, but unmistakably growing.
The golden-haired vampire across the room had remained quiet the entire ti, smiling faintly. His silence was intentional—calculated.
He had seen what Corven was capable of. He didn’t need words to express it.
’He’s keeping quiet...’ Corven noted silently.
There were plenty of reasons for him to speak up—to call attention to the strange ability he had just witnessed. But he didn’t.
Whether it was fear or strategy, Corven wasn’t sure.
Not yet.
The room remained silent for nearly a full minute. Not one vampire dared speak. The tension had shifted entirely—power had a new na.
If even Heist and Heinrich had no coback, then the lesser lords certainly had none.
"With no further objections, this eting is adjourned," Aisha declared, tone sharp and official. "And once you leave this room, you will recognize him as your new baron."
She couldn’t resist rubbing it in just a little.
"This farce won’t last forever, mark my words." Heist spat, standing abruptly. He yanked his cloak as he stord out.
"...Pieces of fucking—" Heinrich’s final words were cut off as he followed, but the venom in his tone left no room for misinterpretation.
The remaining nobles filed out behind them, still in disbelief. The paladins followed suit, moving to escort them out of the estate.
And just like that, Aisha and Corven were left alone.
Silence filled the room once more—but only for a mont.
"Ahhhhhh!!!" Aisha groaned, throwing her arms up and collapsing onto the table. "I really thought I was screwed."
"Have a little more faith in ," Corven replied with a light shrug.
Without warning, Aisha straightened up and reached out, placing a finger under Corven’s chin. She gently forced him to et her gaze—and that’s when she saw it.
The sa golden glint that had frozen the others in fear.
Her pupils narrowed slightly. The sensation hit her like a wave—cold, paralyzing, ancient. A piece of her instinct told her to retreat.
But unlike Heist and Heinrich, Corven wasn’t her enemy.
Or... at least, she hoped not.
"We’re not finished," Aisha said quietly. "I still need to incorporate you into the pact. That’s the only way to make this official—and to have Underzen recognize you."
"It has sothing to do with the na Thorne, doesn’t it?" Corven asked, raising a brow.
"Keen observation," she said with a faint smirk. "But it won’t take long. For the others, it’s relatively simple. But since you’re technically going to be my ’husband’—"
She said the word with a playful roll of her eyes.
"—the preparations are more complex."
She stood, stretching once more before reaching into her cloak and pulling out a single folded parchnt.
It was a map. A detailed layout of the estate. One corner was marked faintly—an obscure section Corven hadn’t noticed before.
"Go there. Then return to once you’re done."
"That’s vague," he comnted, squinting at the map.
"It’s ant to be vague," she replied with a grin.
Then she walked to the door. But unlike her cold, calculated exit earlier, this ti she paused at the threshold.
A small, genuine smile crossed her lips as she looked back at him.
"I wish you luck."
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