Chapter 55: The Noble Court

Vale Manor had never felt so suffocating.

The grand hall, once Duke Orlan Vale's throne room, now served as the meeting place for Rookhaven's most powerful nobles. They sat in a semicircle, dressed in embroidered silk and adorned with rings that gleamed under the candlelight. Each face was a mask—some polite, some wary, and others openly hostile.

At the center of the chamber sat Jarek.

The new Duke.

He lounged in the high-backed chair at the head of the room, one leg draped over the other, fingers drumming idly against the armrest. To his left, Sylva leaned against the wall, arms crossed. To his right, Tobias twirled a dagger between his fingers, looking bored.

The nobles had called this meeting to test him.

Jarek intended to remind them whose city they sat in.

A Game of Power

A heavy silence settled before Lord Callahan cleared his throat.

"Duke Thorn," he began, voice smooth, practiced. "We welcome you to this council. Rookhaven has been… unsettled in recent times. Stability is what we require."

Jarek smirked. "Good. I like stability."

Lord Callahan studied him. "Then you must understand why we called this meeting."

Lady Renwick, an older noblewoman with silver-streaked hair, spoke next. "Your rise to power was… unconventional."

Jarek shrugged. "So was Duke Vale's."

A murmur rippled through the chamber. The nobles didn't like that.

"Be that as it may," Lord Callahan continued, "governing a city is not the same as ruling the underworld. You have taken control, but control is not legitimacy."

Jarek's fingers stilled. "And you're here to offer me legitimacy?"

Callahan smiled thinly. "We are here to ensure that Rookhaven prospers. If you wish to rule as Duke, you must work with us. The city does not belong to you alone."

Jarek exhaled slowly. There it was.

The leash.

They wanted him to rule in name, but they would hold the real power.

Jarek leaned forward, smile sharp. "Let's get one thing clear. Rookhaven belongs to the one strong enough to hold it. Right now, that's me."

Lady Renwick's lips thinned. "Strength alone does not make a ruler."

Jarek tilted his head. "No? Then why are you all here, in my hall, speaking to me as your Duke?"

Silence.

Tobias smirked. Sylva watched the room with sharp eyes, noting every reaction.

Lord Callahan cleared his throat again. "Then you claim Rookhaven by right of conquest?"

Jarek nodded. "Yes."

"Then it would be in your best interest to recognize the value of cooperation," Callahan said smoothly. "We are not your enemies, Duke Thorn."

Jarek tapped his fingers against the chair. "Then what are you?"

Callahan smiled. "Advisors."

Lies.

Every noble in this room wanted to control him. Or kill him.

Jarek had seen this game played before. He wasn't about to be their puppet.

But he wasn't foolish enough to make open enemies of them all, either.

So he smiled. "Then advise me."

The council exchanged glances.

Jarek let the silence stretch before speaking again.

"Tell me, my lords and ladies. Who among you controls the grain shipments? The iron trade? The city guard?" His eyes flickered across the room. "Who holds the purse strings of Rookhaven?"

A shift.

A test.

They had come here expecting a brute. A thug playing at power.

Instead, they found a predator who understood the game.

Lord Callahan folded his hands. "Perhaps this meeting was premature."

Jarek chuckled. "Perhaps. But since you're here, let's make use of it."

He leaned forward.

"If I am to rule, I need a council I can trust. One that serves Rookhaven's best interests." His voice lowered. "Not just their own."

A dangerous statement. A challenge.

Some nobles looked displeased. Others thoughtful.

Jarek let them stew.

Finally, Lady Renwick spoke. "We will consider your words, Duke Thorn."

A retreat.

For now.

Jarek smirked. "Good."

A Message in Blood

The nobles left one by one, their guards trailing behind them.

Sylva stepped forward, watching them go. "They won't back down."

Jarek nodded. "No. But now they know I won't either."

Tobias yawned. "You should've just killed one. Would've sent a clearer message."

Jarek smirked. "Oh, I intend to send a message."

Tobias perked up. "Oh?"

Jarek's eyes darkened. "Find out which noble was working with the Black Wolves. The one who hired assassins against me."

Sylva nodded. "You have someone in mind?"

Jarek's fingers traced the hilt of his dagger.

"I have a few suspects."

A Warning in the Dark

That night, Sylva's spies delivered their report.

A name.

Lord Avery Harland.

Jarek wasn't surprised. Harland had always been close with Duke Vale. A man who benefited from the old order. Of course, he would resist Jarek's rule.

But hiring assassins? That was a mistake.

And Jarek was about to make sure Harland never made another.

The Death of a Lord

Jarek moved at midnight.

He didn't take an army. Didn't send a warning.

Just three men.

Tobias. Sylva. And himself.

They entered Harland's estate through the servant's entrance, silent as shadows.

Guards patrolled the halls, but Sylva's blades made quick work of them.

By the time Jarek reached Harland's chambers, there was no one left to raise the alarm.

The old lord was asleep.

Jarek pressed a blade against his throat.

Harland jolted awake, eyes wide with terror. "W-Wait!"

Jarek's smile was cold. "No."

The dagger slid across Harland's throat, swift and silent.

Blood pooled over the silk sheets.

Jarek wiped his blade clean.

Then, he turned to Tobias. "Make sure everyone knows."

Tobias grinned. "Oh, they'll know."

The Morning After

Rookhaven woke to a corpse hanging from the city gates.

Lord Harland's body swayed in the early morning breeze, his chest carved with a single message.

I AM THE DUKE.

The nobles had sent their warnings.

Now, Jarek had sent his.

And the game had truly begun.