I left the breakfast table having thoroughly enjoyed it. I know it might not sound like so, but apart from Elric being a bit of a nuisance and Eleanor being rather strict, the truth is that this family wasn't all that bad.
Alexandro, the head of the household, feels guilty about our mother's death, so he treats Margery and me particularly well; at least he doesn't get too angry with me for "wasting time" or lacking talent.
As I was heading back to my room, I stopped for a moment to speak to my only full sister. Ever since the news of the engagement had broken, it seemed that was all she wanted to do.
"What's the matter, Margery?"
My sister has beautiful, straight black hair and violet eyes. She's the spitting image of my mother, or so they say; we both take after her very much.
"Do you agree with Father's arrangement, Cassian? I don't want you to feel obliged just because you 'contribute nothing' to the family."
Her words, though harsh, were full of genuine concern. She certainly did bring prestige to the Varkas name: a gifted genius capable of reaching the 8th circle, something truly rare among the children of counts.
"Make no mistake, Margery. I really don't mind if an engagement is arranged; it doesn't mean I'm going to get married."
"Cassian, I don't think you realise how important a ceremony like this is amongst the nobility. Unless one of you dies or there's a lot of insistence, I don't think you can call it off once it's been decided."
"I won't do anything I don't want to, don't worry about it."
At that moment, I saw a little head peeking out from behind a column. Little Bethany seemed worried too. I beckoned her over, ruffled her hair and asked sarcastically:
"Are you going to keep spying on your brothers, or should you be taking lessons with me on how to do absolutely nothing and still be gifted a high-ranking fiancée?"
Bethany looked at me, confused, not quite grasping my irony. Margery let out a stifled giggle before turning serious and giving me a light tap on the shoulder.
"Cassian, stop joking!" she whispered urgently. "Don't you think it's strange? The Windsteels are a family of marquises with immense military power. Why would they give their eldest daughter to… well, to you? They say Cassane recently awakened a rare affinity. Something doesn't add up about this engagement."
I paused for a moment before replying. It was certainly odd; there was that rumour about her, and Cassane was quite popular amongst the nobility of the highest rank and greatest talent.
"If they're up to something strange, I'll see if it's even worth paying attention to," I said with complete detachment.
Although, truth be told, I already had my suspicions. There's bound to be something odd… there always is. But as long as it doesn't affect me, I don't care.
…
A week flew by and it was almost time to set off for the Windsteel mansion to see what they had in store for us.
Before that, however, I met with Adela, my maid, with whom I probably had the closest relationship in this house. She wasn't always a servant; I once saved her from being sold into slavery. She had awakened a rare affinity for black magic, which isn't very well regarded, so her parents, as soon as they had the chance, sold her to the highest bidder. A future mage whose talent had yet to be measured, but whose affinity already spoke volumes—she'd definitely sell well, even if people thought she was cursed.
"Master, I just need to fix your tie and you'll be ready."
I looked at myself in the mirror: black hair and violet eyes. It was clear at a glance that I was in great shape, even fully clothed; the suit I was wearing only emphasised my physique and gave me an air of untouchable nobility.
I turned to look at Adela and smiled at her, noticing something immediately.
"You've reached the 6th circle, Adela. Incredible."
She flashed a radiant smile, happy that I'd recognised her effort.
"Yes. Soon I'll be stronger than you, Master," she joked.
I looked at her seriously, playing along.
"Exactly. I'll let you protect me whilst I do absolutely nothing."
We both laughed, knowing full well that I didn't need protection and that her current level was already more than enough for most threats.
"Master… will you let them use you like that?"
I looked at her, knowing exactly what she meant.
"They know they can use the Varkas because we're 'weak'; that's just the way it is. Similarly, it seems they're offering my father a substantial reward. Since that's the case, if they want to use me, let them try… as long as they don't disturb my peace of mind."
A cold smile crossed my face.
"If they become a nuisance… they'll simply cease to exist."
Adela didn't flinch; she knew full well the magnitude of the being she served. To the rest of the Demor Empire, I was the second son of a second-tier count and, to top it all, without talent; to her, I was the end of all things if anyone made the mistake of pushing me too far.
I strode out of my room with a firm step. The carriage was already waiting in the main courtyard, and with it, my father's stern gaze and Elric's smug smirk.
My sister, Margery, was there too, looking at me with a concern she made no attempt to hide. Finally, my stepmother greeted me with that inscrutable look of hers, laden with her usual annoyance at having kept them waiting.
"You're late, as usual," my father declared, though his tone was more one of resignation than outright anger. He knew he couldn't afford a scene today before we reached the Windsteel mansion.
I climbed into the carriage with the elegance that only someone who has seen suns rise and set could possess. As soon as I settled in, I closed my eyes, ignoring my stepbrother's scornful glances and my sister's anxiety. For them, this journey was a matter of survival and status; for me, it was nothing more than just another day.
The silence in the carriage was so thick you could hardly cut it with one of the Astaford swords. Elric, who kept shifting restlessly in his seat, finally let out a snort of contempt as he swept his gaze over me.
"Look at yourself, Cassian. There you sit with that smug look on your face, as if you really deserve what's about to happen," Elric spat, his voice thick with venom. "I just hope you have the decency to keep your mouth shut in front of the Marquis. You wouldn't want them to realise too soon that the most handsome man in the empire is, in reality, an empty shell without a shred of mana."
My father said nothing, though his eyebrows knitted slightly. Margery, on the other hand, clenched her fists in her lap, ready to leap to my defence, but I gave her a small, almost imperceptible signal to stop.
"Decency?" I replied, opening just one eye and giving him a smile that made him visibly nervous. "Elric, you should worry less about my 'emptiness' and more about your own talent. Being a third-circle mage is fine for the son of a count, but remember that today we're going to the home of a War Marquis. There, your level is little more than a fairground trick to entertain the guests."
Elric's face flushed red with anger, but before he could reply, the carriage came to an abrupt halt. We had arrived at Windsteel Fortress, a place where steel and the magic of war hung heavy in the air.
The guests were already entering; though it was not a lavish banquet, enough people had been summoned to make the engagement official in the eyes of the Empire. Representatives of various earls, viscounts and barons could be seen crossing the threshold of the fortress.
Once we arrived, Cedric Windsteel came over to greet us.
"It's good to see you've arrived without a hitch," he remarked in a voice that sounded like tempered steel.
He exchanged a few polite words with my father before turning away, his gaze searching until his eyes fixed on me.
"So, this must be my son-in-law," he declared with a mixture of curiosity and disdain. "He certainly deserves the title of the most handsome man in Demor… though we should try not to repeat that too often. Prince Bastian is particularly concerned with his own appearance and does not appreciate others holding titles he does not possess."
Cedric's words were no compliment, but a warning. At the imperial court, outshining the royal family was a death sentence disguised as flattery.
I merely gave him a languid smile, one that said the Prince and his insecurities meant as much to me as the dust on my boots.
"I see you don't have much understanding of your own position either," Cedric declared, responding to my smile with an icy stare that would have made any noble of his rank tremble.
My father, letting out a nervous laugh to ease the tension, quickly interjected:
"My son simply doesn't know what's good for him, Marquis Windsteel. Please excuse his lack of tact; the rumours about his appearance have gone a bit to his head, but he's harmless."
"As long as he doesn't cause trouble during the banquet, his 'ignorance' can be tolerated," said Cedric over his shoulder. "Follow me; my daughter is waiting for you in the main hall."
I walked behind them with my hands in my pockets, feeling my father's fiery gaze on the back of my neck.
When we arrived in the main hall, I spotted several familiar faces. There were representatives of various dukes and marquises who, driven by curiosity about this highly unusual engagement, had sent their emissaries. Among them were a few scions of noble houses and mages of the fifth circle or higher, who had earned the right to attend such exclusive events.
The air in the hall was thick with whispers. No wonder: the engagement between the daughter of a War Marquis and the "useless" son of a northern Earl was the gossip of the year.
I felt eyes fixed upon me. Some looked at me with envy for my appearance, others with pity, and most with the contempt reserved for an expensive but useless ornament.
"Keep your head down, Cassian," my father whispered through clenched teeth, as we made our way towards the main podium where Marquis Cedric was preparing to make the official announcement.
But I didn't lower my gaze. On the contrary, my eyes swept across the room with the calm of a predator observing a group of children playing at being kings. My attention, however, was drawn to the centre of the hall, where the temperature seemed to drop several degrees by the second.