The tea house smelled of roasted herbs and unwashed armor.
It was a popular spot for high-rank adventurers. It was rowdy, loud, and dangerous.
Vivienne sat at a back table. She looked bored.
She was cleaning her fingernails with a dagger that cost more than the building.
"Vivienne," Marcus said, sliding into the seat opposite her.
She looked up. Her amber eyes lit up.
"Well," she purred. "If it isn't my favorite life coach."
"I'm not a life coach," Marcus said. "I'm a concerned brother."
"Boring," Vivienne said. She signaled for a server. "Two ales. The strong stuff."
"I can't stay long," Marcus said. "I wanted to talk about the duel. About Theodore."
Vivienne groaned. She let her head fall back against the chair.
"Kid, if you talk about his sword grip again, I'm going to stab this table."
"Not his grip," Marcus said quickly. "His potential. He respects strength. You respect strength."
"I respect a lot of things," Vivienne said. She leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand.
"Theodore is going to be the greatest warrior of his generation," Marcus said. "He needs a partner who understands that life. Someone who has walked the path."
"He needs a babysitter," Vivienne countered. "He's seventeen and thinks holding hands is lewd."
"He will grow!" Marcus insisted. "He just needs guidance. Someone experienced."
Vivienne stared at him. Her gaze was heavy. It felt like being weighed by a predator.
"You really love him, don't you?" she asked.
"He's my brother."
"That's not an answer."
Vivienne took a sip of the ale that had just arrived. She licked the foam from her lip.
"Kid, I've met a lot of warriors. Your brother is good. He's a prodigy. Fine."
She slammed the mug down.
"But you know what's actually attractive? Loyalty."
Marcus blinked. "Loyalty is a virtue, yes."
"It's rare," Vivienne said. "Adventurers are fickle. Nobles are snakes. Everyone is looking out for number one."
She reached across the table. She grabbed his hand. Her grip was callous and strong.
"But you?" She grinned. It was a wolfish grin. "You're running around this city, making a fool of yourself, just to help him."
"I am not making a fool of myself," Marcus said with as much dignity as he could muster.
"You compared him to a duck at dinner," Vivienne deadpanned. "Word travels fast."
Marcus flinched. "It was a metaphor."
"It was hilarious," Vivienne laughed. "And sweet."
She squeezed his hand.
"The way you fight for the people you love? That's sexy, Marcus."
Marcus choked on his own spit. "Sexy?"
"Theo hits things well," Vivienne said, dismissing the Chosen One with a wave of her hand. "That's fine for a fling. But you?"
She leaned in closer. Her face was inches from his.
"You make people feel seen. You see potential where others see problems."
"I see Theodore's potential!" Marcus squeaked.
"You saw me," Vivienne said softly. The playfulness vanished for a second. "When no one else did."
She released his hand and sat back. The mask of the fun cougar slid back into place.
"Drink your ale, Marcus. You look like you've seen a ghost."
"I... I have to go," Marcus stood up. His chair scraped loudly against the floor.
"Running away?" Vivienne teased.
"Duty calls."
"Run along then," she called after him. "But you can't run forever, handsome."
Marcus fled the tea house.
He leaned against a brick wall in the alleyway outside. He was hyperventilating.
She called me sexy. She called loyalty sexy.
This is a disaster.
Wait. No. She respects loyalty. She sees that the Aldridge family values loyalty. Therefore, she will want to marry into the family.
Yes. That logic holds up.
Barely.
He wiped sweat from his forehead. One more stop.
Target: Iris Silvermoon.
Location: Outside his own house.
Objective: Leverage the Prophecy.
✧✧✧
The sun had set. The street lamps were flickering to life with magical light.
Marcus walked toward his temporary lodgings in the capital. He was exhausted.
Selling a dense protagonist was hard work.
A shadow detached itself from a tree near his gate.
It was Iris.
She wore a cloak that shimmered like moonlight on water. Her silver hair glowed in the dim street.
"Iris," Marcus said. He wasn't even surprised anymore. "Coincidence?"
"Calculation," she replied. Her voice was melodic and devoid of shame. "I calculated your probable arrival time based on your previous movements."
"Stalking," Marcus corrected.
"Observation," she countered.
Marcus sighed. He leaned against his gate.
"You're interested in the Child of Destiny, aren't you?"
Iris tilted her head. Her long ears twitched. "The prophecy is... a variable."
"Theodore is the variable," Marcus said. He summoned the last of his energy.
"His destiny is written in the stars. He is unique. A singularity."
"Singularities are dangerous," Iris said. "They consume everything around them."
"Not Theo. He creates gravity. He pulls people together."
Marcus looked up at the stars.
"His blessing isn't just strength. It's connection. He is going to unite the races. Humans. Elves. Everyone."
He looked back at Iris.
"That's something worth studying, isn't it? A short-lived human with the weight of eternity on his shoulders?"
Iris stepped closer. She looked at him with those violet, ancient eyes.
"You speak of him as if he were a god."
"He's better," Marcus said. "He's my brother."
Iris hummed. It was a sound like a vibrating tuning fork.
"Familial bonds of this intensity are rare in elven culture," she said.
"Really?"
"We live so long," Iris explained. "Centuries. Parents drift from children. Siblings become strangers. Such passionate dedication to kin... fades."
She reached out. She didn't touch him, but her hand hovered near his face, sensing his heat.
"Your passion burns very bright, Marcus," she said. "It is not fading."
"I'm human," Marcus said. "We burn fast."
"Fascinating," Iris whispered. "To care so much, knowing it will end so soon."
She lowered her hand.
"I wish to observe this phenomenon more closely."
"Theodore?" Marcus asked hopefully. "You want to observe Theodore?"
"I want to observe the source of this dedication," Iris said. Her wording was precise.
"Great!" Marcus clapped his hands. "I'll arrange a training session for you to watch him tomorrow."
"That would be acceptable," Iris said. "If you are present."
"I'm always present."
"Good."
She stepped back into the shadows.
"Then the study continues."
She vanished. Literally. Elven stealth magic was unfair.
Marcus opened his front door. He stumbled inside.
He was done. He had hit all four targets.
He collapsed onto the sofa without taking off his coat.
"Okay," he mumbled to the empty room.
"Seraphina admires the family bond.
Catarina is intrigued by the dedication.
Vivienne thinks loyalty is... appealing.
Iris finds the passion fascinating."
He stared at the ceiling.
"They all understand that the Aldridge family is a catch."
"Ideally, they will transfer this appreciation to the future head of the family. Theodore."
"It's logic. A leads to B."
He closed his eyes.
"I definitely didn't just make four women fall in love with me by praising my brother."
"That would be stupid."
"And I am a professional."
He fell asleep fully clothed, dreaming of roast ducks and sword grips.
Across the city, four women lay awake.
Seraphina touched the spot on her arm where she had brushed his coat.
Catarina reread a letter about leadership and self-worth.
Vivienne sharpened a dagger, smiling a smile that wasn't bored at all.
Iris opened a fresh journal and wrote:
Subject: Marcus.
Hypothesis: His fire warms the cold.
Theodore slept like a log. He dreamed of a whetstone that never wore out.