"Gold doesn’t corrupt people. It just shows them who they already were."
***
But there was a third option.
I could see Rhys reaching for it in the way his shoulders tensed. The way his weight shifted toward escape. He could just walk away. Leave the pouch on the ground. Let social pressure sort itself out over ti.
Annoying. But predictable.
Ti for the ace.
"Of course," I said, letting my voice carry a note of wounded confusion. The hurt of soone whose generous offer had been inexplicably rejected. "If you truly believe your actions were unworthy of recognition, I suppose I could inform my father that House Leone owes no debt to House Blackwood."
House Blackwood.
Watch this.
"I’m sure he’ll understand when the other lords ask why we failed to honor our obligations to a borderland family." I let my expression fall into sothing approaching genuine sadness. "The Blackwood na will surely survive the implication that their son’s courage was worth less than a commoner’s daily wage."
See what I did there? I elevated his family’s status. Made this about more than just Rhys as an individual. Now any rejection would reflect on his father’s reputation as the village watch-captain. On his family’s standing in their community. On every person who depended on the Blackwood na for protection in those dangerous borderlands where reputation ant the difference between receiving aid and being left to die.
Politics. Gotta love it.
Rhys’s hands clenched into fists so tight his knuckles went white. Tendons stood out beneath his weathered skin. For a mont, I genuinely thought he might swing at . Yesterday’s violence flickered behind his green eyes like heat lightning, and I felt an actual thrill of danger that made my heart beat faster.
Please don’t kill . Please don’t kill . I am very fragile and would die imdiately.
But then his gaze fell on the pouch again.
Heavy leather. Bulging with more gold than a scholarship student would see in a year of careful saving. Enough to buy dicine for his sister for months instead of weeks. Enough to ease the constant fear that gnawed at him every night when he lay awake counting coins and calculating days until his funds ran dry.
His hand moved. Slowly. Reluctantly.
Toward the offering.
"There we are!" I exclaid, pressing the pouch into his palm before he could change his mind. Before his pride could reassert itself over his desperation. "Honor satisfied! Debt acknowledged! House Leone stands proud in the knowledge that we have properly recognized true courage in whatever form it takes!"
The gold seed to burn his fingers. Rhys held the pouch like it might explode. His face cycled through sha, anger, desperate relief. Each emotion clear enough for the watching crowd to catalogue and rember.
Beautiful.
"Now then," I continued, clasping my hands together like a delighted child who’d just received exactly the gift he wanted, "we simply must arrange a proper ceremony! Perhaps a formal announcent during the evening al? I could have the academy herald compose a song about your heroism!"
His eye twitched.
"’The Ballad of Rhys the Bold’ has such a lovely ring to it, don’t you think? Or perhaps ’The Commoner’s Courage’? No, no, that lacks gravitas..."
"No." The word ca out strangled. Forced through a throat tight with humiliation. "No ceremony. No songs. No... no anything."
"But surely your housemates would want to celebrate—"
"No."
Rhys clutched the pouch against his chest like a shaful secret and fled.
He moved like a wounded animal seeking its den. Shoulders hunched. Head down. He pushed through the crowd without eting anyone’s eyes. The watching students parted before him in a wave. So snickered openly. Others whispered behind their hands about the "charity case" who’d finally shown his true colors. The proud commoner who’d apparently had a price after all.
I watched him disappear into the shadows of the West Bastion. His earth-brown hair was the last thing visible before the darkness swallowed him.
My expression stayed locked in its mask of confused disappointnt. The bewildernt of a noble who’d tried to do the right thing and been rebuffed for reasons he couldn’t fathom.
"Well," I said to no one in particular. Loud enough for the lingering spectators to hear and repeat. "I suppose not everyone appreciates proper gratitude. Father always did say the lower classes have difficulty understanding noble customs. Sothing about their upbringing, I imagine."
The crowd began to disperse. Students returned to their als with fresh gossip to share. But the damage was done. Planted like seeds that would grow into rumors by nightfall. By evening, everyone in the academy would know that Rhys Blackwood had been bought. That the proud commoner who’d stood alone against three nobles had a price after all.
And that price had been t by the most pathetic mber of a fallen house.
.
Only when the courtyard had largely emptied did I let the mask slip.
The fawning gratitude lted away. My shoulders straightened. My posture shifted from awkward desperation to sothing colder. The hunched nervousness vanished. The twitchy energy that had animated every gesture disappeared like it had never existed.
I stood still in the emptying courtyard and let myself think clearly for the first ti since the performance began.
The first chain was forged in pity.
When I helped him against Vance. When I arranged for him to be the hero of that little drama. I created debt. Obligation. The beginning of connection between two people who had no reason to acknowledge each other’s existence.
The second chain is forged in gold.
Now he carries my coin. Bought with public humiliation that will follow him for months. Every ti he spends that money on his sister’s dicine, he’ll rember this mont. Rember that his pride has a price. Rember that I know exactly what that price is.
I turned toward my own dormitory. Already planning the next phase with the sa care I’d applied to the first two.
The third chain will be forged in blood.
And then, Rhys Blackwood, you will be mine.
Behind , a few scattered coins glinted on the cobblestones. I’d "accidentally" let so gold spill during our exchange. The clinking sound drew imdiate attention from nearby students. They were already scrambling to collect them. Elbowing each other aside in their haste. Unaware that even this small detail served my larger purpose.
Spreading the story further. Ensuring that everyone knew exactly how much gold had been involved in this transaction.
After all, what was the point of buying soone if you didn’t make sure everyone knew the price?
I smiled. A real smile this ti. The kind I never let anyone see.
Three chains. Three steps. Three opportunities for everything to go catastrophically wrong and get killed in increasingly creative ways.
But that was the fun part, wasn’t it?
No, I corrected myself. That’s the terrifying part. The fun part is pretending the terrifying part is fun so I don’t have a complete ntal breakdown.
I shoved my hands in my pockets and walked toward the dormitory, whistling off-key.
Just another pathetic Leone heir. Nothing to see here. Certainly not a guy who’d just laid the groundwork for his own secret organization using nothing but pocket change and shalessness.
The sun was warm on my face. The courtyard slled like expensive pastries and teenage desperation. Sowhere behind , students were still fighting over dropped coins like pigeons over bread crumbs.
Life was good.
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