Adelaide sat in her carriage, thodically sorting through stacks of docunts with practiced efficiency. The evening sun filtered through the windows, casting shifting patterns across the papers in her lap. If anyone had witnessed her calm deanor, they would never have guessed she had just watched her brother’s execution re minutes ago. But for Adelaide, family had always been more concept than reality – their deaths carried no more emotional weight than the closing of a disappointing business venture.
Her eyes lifted from her work to study Marcus, who sat across from her in uncharacteristic silence. Despite achieving a breakthrough that had elevated him to C-rank, he showed none of the enthusiasm one might expect. His shoulders remained tense, his gaze distant and troubled. She suspected Sebastian’s final monts – that desperate plea for salvation – still haunted him.
For a mont, Adelaide considered attempting to console him, but quickly dismissed the notion. Her skills lay in contracts and calculations, not comfort. A wry smile touched her lips as an unbidden thought crossed her mind: Master, please wake up and look after your boyfriend. She imdiately shook her head, banishing the dangerous thought. Given how Ambrose seed capable of achieving the impossible, she wouldn’t put it past him to sohow read minds. Better to focus on her docunts than risk such thoughts lingering.
Across the carriage, Marcus’s mind wandered down darker paths. Sebastian’s final monts played on repeat in his mory – that look of desperate humanity breaking through the demonic corruption. Had there truly been no hope of salvation? After all, Sebastian had been born human, not demon. Sowhere along the way, he had simply lost his path. The only known "cure" for demonoids lay with the Holy Church, but Marcus knew all too well that their thods couldn’t truly be called salvation.
His thoughts drifted to Ambrose, as they often did lately. Despite his physical frailty, Ambrose never complained, maintaining an air of serene confidence that made others believe anything was possible. That reassuring presence that made one want to rely on him completely. Perhaps Ambrose might know of another way, so solution that others had overlooked. Marcus made a ntal note to ask him – once he regained consciousness.
The thought of Ambrose reminded Marcus of his debt of gratitude. Without Ambrose’s intervention in the dungeon, who knows what might have happened? He still needed to properly thank him for that. But what gift could possibly be aningful to soone like Ambrose Rothschild? The heir to one of the kingdom’s most powerful families would have access to virtually anything money could buy. Marcus needed sothing unique, sothing that couldn’t simply be purchased or acquired through the Rothschild family’s vast network of connections.
Suddenly, his eyes widened as inspiration struck like lightning. Now that he had advanced to C-rank, there was sothing he could obtain – sothing that even the Rothschild family’s resources couldn’t easily secure. The realization energized him, dispelling his earlier lancholy.
Without warning, Marcus rose from his seat, the sudden movent surprising Adelaide slightly. "I just rembered sothing," he announced, already reaching for the carriage door. "I’m getting off here."
Adelaide watched his abrupt departure with a mixture of curiosity and mild concern. "What was that about?" she wondered aloud, though she felt a small asure of relief seeing him shake off his earlier depression. Sothing had clearly motivated him, though she could only hope his sudden inspiration wouldn’t lead him into more trouble. After all, given recent events, they had more than enough complications to deal with already.
As Marcus’s figure grew smaller in the distance, Adelaide returned her attention to her docunts, though part of her mind continued to puzzle over his mysterious departure. Whatever he was planning, she just hoped it wouldn’t create more problems for their already complex situation. At least he should wait until Ambrose had woken up.
A/N - Looks like I’ll have to write a few more Marcus chapters before Ambrose wakes up.
…
Theodore gazed through the carriage window, his expression carefully neutral as the landscape rolled past. The setting sun painted the sky in hues of orange and purple, a beautiful sight that seed almost mocking given the day’s bloody events. His mind wandered back to his earlier interaction with Adelaide and Marcus, analyzing each mont with clinical precision.
From his earliest mories, Theodore had lived in the shadows of his elder siblings. Sebastian, their eldest, commanded support from nurous noble houses, while Adelaide carved her own path through sheer force of will and intelligence. Theodore alone had been forced to rely on their father’s influence, though he had a few supporters, he knew the nobles who supported him rely coveted the family fortune.
A bitter smile played across his features as he recalled his carefully constructed facade – the image of a helpless youngest child who could only survive through his father’s protection and his brother’s goodwill. But beneath this carefully crafted mask lay a ruthlessly calculating mind. He had recognized early on that Adelaide was their father’s favorite, her network of connections already firmly established before he could even begin to compete. His late birth had sealed his fate before he could even attempt to change it.
Yet Theodore had refused to accept defeat. His first strategy had been to pursue power through conventional ans – grueling training sessions and endless practice. But reality proved harsh; his ordinary talent imposed severe limitations. Despite pushing himself to absolute limits, he had only managed to reach the peak of D-rank. The dream of overwhelming others through pure strength crumbled like a castle built on sand.
Adapting to this reality, Theodore had shifted his focus to ntal warfare. Adelaide proved too shrewd to manipulate directly, but Sebastian – for all his physical might – presented an ideal target. His elder brother’s combination of strength and stupidity made him the perfect puppet. Theodore’s strategy had been thodical: regular visits bearing gifts of won and drugs, slowly eroding Sebastian’s discipline until the once-diligent heir devolved into a depraved addict.
But even the best-laid plans could go awry. As ti passed, Theodore noticed disturbing changes in his brother. Sebastian’s behavior grew increasingly erratic, his strength expanding at an unnatural rate. The puppet was developing unfortunate aspirations to beco the puppet master. Yet one constant remained – Sebastian’s deep-seated inferiority complex toward Adelaide.
When news of Adelaide’s return reached Theodore through his network of informants, he recognized a perfect opportunity to orchestrate his masterpiece. Though aware of her connection to the Rothschild heir, Theodore had carefully manipulated the information he shared with Sebastian. He deliberately downplayed Adelaide’s new status, presenting her association with Ambrose as re coincidence rather than the formal subordinate relationship it truly was. After all, even Sebastian might hesitate to move against soone under Rothschild protection.
His plan was elegantly simple in its conception: by pitting Sebastian against Adelaide’s faction, Theodore would erge victorious regardless of the outco. If Sebastian sohow prevailed, Theodore would remain the trusted advisor to the new heir. If Adelaide’s side won, he could present himself as an unwitting bystander to his brother’s madness. Either way, his position would be secured.
The gambit had played out exactly as planned. Adelaide’s protector had proven more than capable of handling Sebastian even after the surprising transformation, and Theodore had seized the perfect mont to eliminate his brother. With Sebastian’s death, any direct evidence of Theodore’s manipulation died as well. Though Adelaide might suspect his role as instigator, she was too practical to pursue vendetta without proof, especially when cooperation promised mutual benefit.
Now, as his carriage carried him howard, Theodore finally allowed himself to relax slightly. He had gambled everything on his sister’s pragmatic nature – her willingness to abandon the inheritance and overlook past grievances had proven crucial to his success. Had Adelaide been even slightly more vindictive, his machinations might have cost him not just the inheritance but his life as well.
Theodore closed his eyes, suddenly feeling the weight of the day’s events. His imdiate priority was to return ho and wash away the evidence of fratricide, giving himself ti to process his new reality as heir to the Golden Compass Trading Company. Everything had worked out perfectly – perhaps too perfectly. In his experience, such flawless victories often preceded the greatest disasters. But those were concerns for tomorrow; for now, he had achieved his imdiate goal, though the cost had been paid in family blood.
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