Chapter 7 — Eyes in the Crowd
Leon hated celebrations.
Noise.
Laughter.
False smiles stacked on top of other false smiles.
Yet here he was—standing inside the grand hall, chandeliers blazing above, nobles dressed in silk and gold, raising glasses in celebration of a victory he had engineered but never cared to enjoy.
He wore his headphones, of course.
Not because music played.
Because it kept the world at a distance.
"Smile," the king muttered beside him. "They need to see you."
Leon complied.
The smile came easily.
---
The Victory Feast
Wine flowed freely.
Laughter echoed.
Nobles whispered behind fans and goblets.
> "That's him?"
"He's just a boy…"
"The king trusts him?"
"Look at his eyes…"
Leon listened without listening.
Several lords approached him.
"You have my gratitude, Lord Leon," one said.
"A brilliant plan," another added.
"A shame someone so young bears such responsibility," a third laughed nervously.
Leon nodded.
Thanked them.
Said nothing of value.
Every word they spoke was logged away.
Every gesture.
Every hesitation.
Good, he thought. They're already measuring me.
---
The Blade That Missed
The doors of the hall slammed open.
Before anyone could react—
A figure lunged forward.
Steel flashed.
Leon tilted his head slightly to the side.
The sword sliced through empty air where his throat had been a heartbeat ago.
Gasps erupted.
Guards drew weapons.
But Leon didn't move.
He smiled.
The attacker froze, realizing she had missed.
A girl stood before him—silver-blonde hair tied back, eyes blazing with fury, sword trembling in her grip.
"I found him," she shouted. "This is the one, isn't it?!"
Behind her stood a woman draped in royal black and crimson—eyes sharp, posture flawless.
The queen.
---
Royal Blood
"Enough," the king commanded sharply, stepping forward.
"That is my daughter."
The princess lowered her blade only slightly, eyes never leaving Leon.
"So this is him?" she said. "The boy everyone's celebrating?"
Leon met her gaze calmly.
Not intimidated.
Not impressed.
The queen's eyes narrowed.
"And who," she asked coolly, "is he?"
The king exhaled.
"Leon Ashcroft. The strategist who prevented three kingdoms from falling."
Murmurs exploded across the hall.
The princess scoffed.
"He doesn't look like a hero."
Leon's smile widened just a fraction.
"I'm not," he said softly.
The queen studied him longer than anyone else had that night.
"Interesting," she murmured. "Very interesting."
---
The Stranger Returns
That's when Leon felt it.
A gaze.
Sharp.
Heavy.
Unmoving.
His smile faded—just a little.
Across the hall, half-hidden among nobles and shadows, stood a man cloaked in black.
Hood pulled low.
Face unseen.
The same presence.
The same pressure.
The same man.
You again, Leon thought.
Their eyes met.
For a moment, the noise of the hall vanished.
The stranger didn't move.
Didn't flee.
He simply… watched.
Leon slowly raised his glass in silent acknowledgment.
The hooded man vanished into the crowd.
Leon's smile returned.
But this time—
It wasn't amused.
It was curious.
---