Lucian shrugged—Fey wasn't the first oddball he'd met.
"Sure," he said with a smirk, trailing after him into the next room of the manor.
But just a few steps in, Lucian nearly collided with Fey, who had come to a sudden stop, eyes wide.
"What's the holdup?" Lucian asked, brushing off his coat as he stepped beside him—only to see exactly why Fey had frozen.
There they were: the Third Prince and Lady Reina, deep in conversation. No one dared approach. The other nobles lingered on the edges of the room, murmuring in hushed tones, casting sidelong glances like moths afraid to fly too close to a flame. It was as if the pair commanded their own gravitational pull.
"That's it? That's why you stopped?" Lucian asked, clapping Fey on the back.
Fey chuckled, shaking his head. "You really don't get it, do you? This could be the start of a very powerful alliance—maybe even a royal lineage."
Lucian laughed. "Please. Watch and learn."
Before Fey could stop him, Lucian strode off, weaving through the murmuring crowd straight toward the two elites.
Fey let out a sigh and peeled off toward another table, choosing to mingle with a few nearby nobles—though with more caution than before. He kept his smile polite, his ears sharp.
Meanwhile, Reina and the Third Prince continued their quiet conversation until a familiar voice cut in:
"Mind if I join?" Lucian said, smirking.
Gasps and a few awkward chuckles rippled through the room.
An older noble stepped forward from the sidelines, face crinkled in disapproval. Clearly seasoned and unamused.
"You can't just insert yourself into a conversation with figures like them," the noble growled, reaching for Lucian's collar.
But the prince raised a hand, stopping him with a simple, amused glance.
"Let him stay," the Third Prince said. "He's done no harm."
He gave Lucian a slight nod—almost like a challenge.
The older noble scoffed, but turned away, muttering something under his breath as he stalked back to his circle.
Lucian chuckled, eyes gleaming with mischief. "So—what were you two chatting about?"
The Third Prince swirled his glass, voice smooth. "Just getting to know each other, that's all."
Lucian smirked, eyes briefly flicking to Reina, reading her body language.
As composed as ever, Reina wore her usual mask of grace—but Lucian could sense the familiar flicker of irritation beneath it. Subtle. Controlled. Unlike him, she couldn't afford to let her true feelings show, not in front of someone like the Third Prince.
She scoffed, clearly catching him watching her too closely. Her lips curled into a devilish smile.
"Quite enamored with me, aren't you? Staring that long," she said with mock sweetness.
Lucian gave a dramatic bow. "You wound me. I was merely admiring."
But just as the banter took off, Lucian's smile twitched. A prickle of danger—it returned.
He tapped his foot once, irritation flickering in his eyes. But this time, before he could act, the Third Prince moved first. In a flash of silver, his blade was unsheathed, slicing through the air and intercepting a knife aimed straight for Reina.
Lucian raised an eyebrow, amused… but thoughtful.
That knife—it looked identical to the one aimed at Fey earlier.
Either someone was orchestrating multiple hits tonight… or this went deeper than Fey let on.
Lucian turned his head to check on him—only to freeze at what he saw.
Fey stood among a group of startled nobles, a spoon in one hand, a glinting blade knocked aside mid-air. Sweat beaded at his temple, but he looked more annoyed than afraid.
He caught Lucian's stare and grinned.
"Told you I could handle it," he said, breathless but smug, before summoning his Codex in a flicker of arcane light.
At the same moment, the Third Prince's expression shifted. No longer amused—only cold and sharp. His own Codex sparked to life in his hand.
Lucian smirked. Finally—a chance to show his power without needing to fabricate the excuse himself.
He flicked a finger.
The system no longer required him to manifest his Codex to cast dominions, but appearances still mattered. Projecting strength was part of the game—and Lucian knew how to play it. With a low hum, his thick Codex materialized beside him, glowing faintly in the charged air.
"I'm right with you," he said smoothly.
Tension rippled through the room. All around them, nobles were summoning their own Codices in flashes of colored light and rising energy. Whoever planned this assassination clearly hadn't accounted for the sheer concentration of dangerous people in one place.
A mistake Lucian intended to make them regret.
The Third Prince's voice cut through the chaos, deep and commanding. "Assassin! Caution!"
The call echoed not only through the ballroom but into the streets beyond. In response, the sound of Codices igniting outside filled the air—pages fluttering, arcane seals locking into place, power crackling along the manor walls.
Lucian's smirk deepened as his gaze swept across the room.
"Fey," he said with casual confidence, "care to do the honors?"
His eyes shimmered with shadow as he activated Villain of the Night, drawing the vision of nearby shadows into his mind's eye—watching, listening, stretching his awareness to every corner the light failed to reach.
Beside him, Fey had already summoned his Codex, its pages fluttering as his own spellwork flared to life, his gaze sharpening as he traced the attacker's trail.
The Third Prince watched the two of them, calculating, then gave a small nod of approval.
With a breath, he raised his voice—and the air vibrated with power as he unleashed a vocal dominion, booming and absolute.
"Kneel!"
The command struck with force, rippling through the air like a physical blow. It was a technique reminiscent of Duke Reid's—but stronger, refined. The kind of authority only a royal bloodline could amplify.
Behind them, Reina stood frozen—eyes wide in disbelief.
Was it the assassination attempt itself that shocked her… or the fact that someone had managed to breach her father's layers of guards and magical defenses?
Her composure cracked for only a moment before she snapped her fingers. Her Codex shimmered into existence, radiant and commanding.
"Living Battlefield!" she called.
The room shifted.
Like her father, Duke Reid, Reina's dominion turned the very ground beneath her feet into a weapon—walls, floors, and furnishings stirring to life under her will. The manor itself now stood ready to protect her.
And then—outside—a sound. A grunt, faint but distinct, as if the weight of all these activated spells had flushed something out.
Lucian didn't hesitate.
With a grin, he dissolved into shadow, melting into the floor like ink spilled across a page. In the blink of an eye, he reformed in the courtyard, near the source of the noise.
"Surprise," Lucian whispered with a grin, voice low and sharp like a dagger in the dark.
He laughed—softly, sadistically—his presence crashing down like the night itself.