[Early Dawn's POV]
(Before the Celebration)
"Why are we going to see the duke today?" Leah asked, lowering her voice despite the privacy of the carriage. "The celebration isn't until tomorrow."
"Because surprising the young master with the egg is one thing," Nathan said evenly, eyes forward, "but surprising the duke himself with a gift of this magnitude is an entirely different matter."
Logan frowned. "And how exactly did you secure an audience? Not just anyone gets to stand before a duke."
"Before you joined us," Nathan replied, "we saved Marquis Feldmark's life. I've chosen to collect that debt."
Mark's jaw tightened. "You spent a marquis's favour—before knowing whether this mission would even succeed?"
Nathan finally looked at him. "Yes."
The single word ended the argument, but Mark pressed on. "That was reckless."
"No," Nathan said calmly. "It was calculated. Feldmark and Duke Ashvale are close. A personal recommendation from him changes how we are received. Without it, we would be petitioners. With it, we are guests."
Zoe hesitated. "What did you tell the marquis our purpose was?"
"That we wished to attend the duke's son's celebration," Nathan said. "To meet nobles. To form connections."
Leah's brows drew together. "Won't he be furious when he learns we withheld a wyvern egg?"
Nathan exhaled slowly. "He may be displeased. Briefly. But he'll understand that even knowing of it would have placed a massive target on his back."
He paused, then added firmly, "And just in case it isn't clear, I am one hundred per cent confident that we will succeed."
No one spoke after that.
[Duke Ashvale's Mansion]
The guards took Marquis Feldmark's letter with visible caution. It was examined, verified, examined again—then returned with a nod.
We were escorted into the grand hall.
Time stretched.
When Duke Ashvale finally entered, the air itself seemed to tighten.
He was flanked by three knights, their steps perfectly synchronised. Nathan felt it instantly—each one radiated pressure so dense it bordered on suffocating. Even one of them could slaughter our entire group without effort.
The duke was tall, broad, and utterly unhurried. Steel-grey hair framed a face etched by authority, not age. His gaze passed over us once—measured, assessing—before he took his seat.
He accepted the letter without comment.
As he read, the hall was silent enough to hear breathing.
When he finished, he set the parchment aside. His expression did not change.
The knights stepped aside, granting permission.
Nathan advanced alone and bowed deeply.
"Your Lordship. I am Nathan, leader of New Dawn. These are my companions."
"I have read Marquis Feldmark's letter," Duke Ashvale said. His voice was calm, but it carried effortlessly through the hall. "It speaks well of you. You saved my friend's life."
A pause.
"That alone earns my gratitude. State your purpose."
Careful now, Nathan warned himself.
"Saving the marquis was our duty," he replied. "We seek no reward. We humbly request permission to attend your son's celebration tomorrow."
Another pause—longer this time.
"Granted," the duke said at last. "My butler will see that invitations are prepared."
Nathan did not relax.
"We have also prepared a gift for the young lord," he continued, choosing each word with care. "However, given its nature, we felt it improper to present it without your consent."
The duke's eyes sharpened. "Proceed."
"Zoe," Nathan said quietly, "the egg."
[Duke Ashvale's POV]
'A wyvern beast egg.'
So that is why Feldmark was never told.
In his letter, the marquis had spoken only of bravery, loyalty, and a debt repaid. No mention of this. Clever—and dangerous.
Nearly every noble possessed a contracted beast. It was tradition. I had already secured a high-grade earth manticore for my son.
Yet fewer than twenty people in the entire Human Empire of Valtheria had ever bonded with a wyvern.
Refusing such an offering was impossible.
Still, had they unveiled this at the celebration itself, forcing my hand before witnesses, I would have crushed them for the insult. Even delaying until the last moment could have been construed as an affront.
Then I saw the egg clearly.
It glowed faintly.
'Three days. Perhaps less.'
I understood.
Even so, precedent demanded formality.
"A wyvern beast egg is no trivial gift," I said slowly. "You have rendered me a great service. I will not accept this without compensation. Name the treasure you desire."
The knights stiffened at once.
A duke's treasure could change a family's fate.
Nathan smiled—and declined.
"This is our humble tribute to you, my lord," he said evenly, meeting my gaze without challenge, "nothing more than a sign of our sincerity—to you, and to the young lord."
Silence followed.
He was testing something—not my generosity, but my intent.
I gave nothing away.
"Very well," I said at last. "We shall speak no more of it."
Relief flickered through the room, though it showed it openly.
"I will see you at the celebration," I continued. "Nolan will arrange your escort."
Nathan bowed deeply. "Thank you for your benevolence, Your Lordship."
'Bold adventurers, ' I thought.
'Very bold.'