I stared at the persistent reporter standing in the doorway, annoyance and opportunity warring in my mind.
"Nia Langley, Havenwood Daily," she introduced herself, recovering quickly from Eamon's crude description. "I just need fifteen minutes of your ti, Mr. Knight."
I studied her determined expression. Most reporters had given up after my repeated refusals, but this one had tenacity. Perhaps I could use that.
"Eamon, give us the room," I said, making a quick decision.
Eamon's eyebrows shot up in surprise, but he shrugged and left, closing the door behind him.
"I'm not discussing the fight with Adrian Whitlock," I stated firmly as Nia took a seat across from .
Her face fell montarily before her professional smile returned. "I understand. Perhaps we could talk about your plans moving forward? Your rise has been teoric, and our readers—"
"I have sothing better," I interrupted, leaning forward. "Sothing exclusive."
Nia's eyes widened, her recorder imdiately appearing in her hand. "I'm listening."
I allowed a small smile to play on my lips. The pieces were falling into place.
"Are you familiar with Dashiell Blackthorne of the Blackthorne family?" I asked.
"Of course. One of Veridia City's most eligible bachelors. There are rumors he's engaged to Isabelle Ashworth."
"Not engaged," I corrected her. "rely an arrangent between families that hasn't been formalized."
Nia's reporter instincts were clearly on high alert now. She leaned forward, her recorder inching closer to .
"Mr. Knight, what exactly are you telling ?"
"I'm giving you the biggest story of your career," I said confidently. "Dashiell Blackthorne and I have an agreent. Six months from now, we will duel publicly in Veridia City for the right to court Isabelle Ashworth."
The lie flowed smoothly from my lips. There was no such agreent, but there would be—Dashiell's pride would ensure it once this story broke.
Nia's jaw dropped. "You're challenging one of Veridia City's most powerful young masters? For Isabelle Ashworth?"
"I'm not challenging him," I clarified with deliberate precision. "The challenge has been accepted. The terms are set. If he loses, he faces public humiliation and surrenders any claim to Isabelle."
"And if you lose?" Nia asked, her pen hovering over her notepad.
I smiled coldly. "I won't."
"This is... this is incredible," Nia breathed, scribbling furiously. "The Blackthorne family will never allow this to happen. They'll try to—"
"Kill before the duel?" I finished for her. "That's why I'm telling you this now. I want everyone in Havenwood City—no, the entire province—to know about this agreent. The more public it becos, the harder it will be for them to silence quietly."
Understanding dawned in Nia's eyes. "You're using the public as protection."
"Consider it a service to your readers," I said. "They'll witness the fall of an arrogant young master who believes wealth equals worth."
Nia was practically vibrating with excitent. "Mr. Knight, would you be willing to be more specific about your intentions?"
I looked directly at her recorder. "Six months from now, I will kill Dashiell Blackthorne in front of all of Veridia City. His family's wealth won't save him. His connections won't help him. And when he's dead, the world will know that true power doesn't co from inherited privilege."
Even Nia seed taken aback by my bluntness. "You're declaring a death match against a Blackthorne? Do you understand what you're saying?"
"Perfectly," I replied calmly. "And so will your readers. This isn't just about Isabelle Ashworth. This is about showing that talent and determination can overco generations of entitlent."
Nia's eyes glead. This was the story of a lifeti. This chapter first appeared on *.
"Fra it as a class struggle," I advised her. "The self-made man versus old money. The public loves an underdog."
"And Isabelle Ashworth? Has she consented to being the... prize in this arrangent?"
I smiled enigmatically. "Isabelle Ashworth will make her own choices. This duel rely ensures she'll have the freedom to do so."
After a few more questions, Nia stood to leave, clutching her recorder like a precious treasure.
"Mr. Knight, this will be front-page news tomorrow," she said. "The Blackthorne family will co after you with everything they have."
"I'm counting on it," I replied. "And when they do, make sure you're there to cover that story too."
After she left, I closed my eyes and breathed deeply. The trap was set. By tomorrow, my fabricated duel would be common knowledge. Dashiell would have no choice but to accept or lose face. And more importantly, the Blackthornes would be forced to confront openly rather than through assassins in the dark.
I spent the rest of the evening preparing for the journey to River North. The prospect of learning more about my father through the Enlightennt Tea filled with anticipation. Whatever power it might bestow, I would need it for the battles ahead.
The next morning, I awoke before dawn. As promised, Adrian Whitlock arrived just as the first light crept over the horizon.
What I hadn't expected was to find Eamon Greene waiting nervously in the courtyard as well.
"What's he doing here?" I asked Adrian, nodding toward Eamon.
"He's coming with us," Adrian replied simply. "His online comntary about my fighting style was... colorful. I thought he might benefit from seeing my holand firsthand."
Eamon's face had gone pale. He looked at with pleading eyes. "Liam, I didn't think he'd see those posts! I was just analyzing his techniques for—"
"Save it," I cut him off, unable to suppress a smile. "You're always telling how you want more training opportunities. Consider this one."
"But I called his Ghost Step technique 'a parlor trick that wouldn't fool a drunk beggar,'" Eamon whispered frantically.
"Did you now?" I raised an eyebrow, genuinely amused. "Well, I'm sure Adrian will give you a personal demonstration."
Eamon's eyes widened in terror as Adrian turned to him with an unreadable expression.
"The carriage is waiting," Adrian announced. "River North is three days' journey. We should get started."
As we walked toward the waiting vehicle, I observed the interesting dynamic forming between my impulsive friend and the dangerous Whitlock heir. Eamon kept a careful distance from Adrian, practically tiptoeing around him.
I caught Adrian watching Eamon with the asured patience of a predator studying potential prey. Whatever lesson Adrian planned to teach him would certainly be morable.
As for , I was willingly walking into Adrian Whitlock's territory—a man who had nearly killed just yesterday. Yet I felt oddly calm. The path to power was rarely safe, and the secrets of my father were worth the risk.
I glanced back at the inn one last ti, spotting Nia Langley watching our departure from a window. By the ti we returned from River North, my legend would be spreading throughout the province, and Dashiell Blackthorne would be seething with rage in Veridia City.
The ga was changing. I was no longer reacting to threats—I was creating them on my terms.
I climbed into the carriage, watching Adrian's calculating eyes and Eamon's nervous fidgeting with quiet amusent. The journey ahead would be dangerous, but danger had beco my constant companion on the path to power.
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