Chapter 66: Family Affair

Chapter 66: Chapter 66: Family Affair

Allan sat on the edge of the bed with the leather travel pack open between his knees. Two changes of clothes. The short blade. The coin pouch holding the Duke’s last advance. The sealed letter of passage still bearing the Oakwood crest. Everything else stayed behind.

He worked without hurry. Rushing would not close the distance any faster, and the thought of someone reaching the Garden of Eden before him already sat like a cold weight under his ribs, which was already giving him trouble.

He had believed the plot would hold longer, but past players and the cult had already forced cracks through every careful timeline he remembered.

"Why? Why now?" He grunted.

He knew worrying would change nothing, so he forced the thought down and kept packing.

"It may be because of the virus." The sickness among the nobles was the main reason. The same sickness that had driven the Duke to send adventurers into the destructive valley. The same sickness now inside the Emperor’s court on Long Island. Or someone high enough to move armies was desperate for the golden apple. An Archduke or perhaps the Emperor himself. If the latter, the race would be far bloodier than any game server had ever allowed.

The location was close, though. One day of hard travel if they took the direct road through House Poseidon’s fief, but Allan did not like that road. Poseidon’s men watched every cart that crossed their bridges, and the Archduke had never been known for kindness to rising houses, for many other reasons only he knew.

He stood, closed the pack, and went downstairs.

The hall was quiet. Seris and Lira waited near the long table with a map already unrolled. Amelia sat in the far corner of the room, shoulders curved inward, face turned toward the wall. The light from the window caught the wet shine on her cheek.

He came close to Seris. "What happened?"

She came closer. "Lady Amelia got a letter from her father, and maybe also because of what he said before."

"What did he say?"

Seris didn’t reply, her face down. So was Lira’s.

Allan gestured at both of them. "Give us a moment."

They moved without argument. Seris took the map. Lira closed the door softly behind them.

Allan crossed the room and stopped a few paces from Amelia. He did not touch her. "What did he say?"

Her voice was small. "He wants me back at House Arclight. Right now. He says you are a dangerous man. An ambitious man. That you would walk into fire if it meant climbing higher, and that I would burn with you if I stayed too close."

Allan was quiet for a breath. He could not decide whether the Viscount had meant it as warning or insult. "I told him I would not put you in danger. Bringing you here may have been the part that made him angry. He is already under pressure in the capital. Allegations. Accusations. He sees threats everywhere."

Amelia wiped her face once with the heel of her hand. "He means it, Allan."

"I know." He kept his voice even. "Do not cry over it. I will speak with him when the time comes. For now, pack your things. Light. We leave before the day is out. Okay?"

She nodded as she held his hand. "You will not leave me, right?"

Allan grabbed her hand as well, tighter. Coming closer, near her forehead, giving a light kiss. "Never."

The maids who had been waiting just beyond the doorway came in without being called and began folding clothes into a travel chest. Amelia rose and followed them upstairs.

In the hall, Seris and Lira had the map pinned under two cups. Seris pointed to a thin line that curved north of the main road.

"We can go around House Poseidon’s fief," she said. "Extra half day. The road is poorer, but no bridges, no checkpoints. We reach the ferry to Long Island before the second sunset."

Allan studied the route once. The line avoided every major crossing and kept them clear of the Archduke’s patrols. It also kept them off the faster road where word of their movement would travel quicker. "That one."

Meanwhile, the workers fixed the carriage in the yard. Two spare horses. Water. Dried meat. The compounds Bela had finished before dawn. The household staff gathered at the gate. One of the younger maids finished a short letter, rolled it tight, and tied it to the leg of a waiting bird. The bird lifted from the stone post and vanished east toward the Duke’s towers.

Allan saw it from where he stood and did not stop her. The Duke would learn of their departure soon enough. Better the news arrived in his own hand than through rumor.

The carriage rolled out under a gray sky. For the first stretch the road was empty. Allan sat with his back to the wall, eyes half-closed, measuring the pull of the wound under the bandage.

He had wanted to bring Bela as well, but he knew she wasn’t ready, too weak for the time being. She wasn’t the alchemy witch yet, but the compound Bela had mixed kept the tissue from tearing. The ache remained steady. Every jolt of the wheels sent a dull reminder through his side. He ignored it. Pain was information. Information he already had.

Halfway to the northern fork, iron shoes rang on the stones ahead.

Knights in Arclight colors blocked the road in a clean line. The Viscount himself sat a dark horse in the center, face hard under the afternoon light.

"Oakwood!" His voice carried clear. "Where are you taking my daughter this time? Into another war zone?"

Allan stepped down from the carriage. Seris and Lira stayed inside, hands near their weapons but still. Amelia remained seated, spine straight.

"Viscount," Allan said. "We are traveling on the Duke’s leave. Nothing more."

"You will not take her farther." The Viscount’s hand rested on the pommel of his sword. "Come out, Amelia. Now."

Allan kept his tone level. "She is not a child. She chooses her own road. Why can’t you understand that?"

"She chooses poorly when you stand near her." The Viscount’s voice rose. "I will not watch her burn for your ambition again. You have already dragged her name through enough mud. When you brought her to your fief, then the talks of affairs, and now this. How many more times will she pay the price for your climb?"

The conversation tightened. Voices carried. A small knot of commoners and lesser riders had gathered at the edge of the road, drawn by the colors and the raised speech. Allan noted their faces without turning his head. Word would spread either way. Best to keep the exchange short.

From behind, another carriage approached from the west, lacquered black, crest of the Countess’s house clear on the door. It slowed. The Countess leaned out, eyes moving across the blocked road, the knights, the Viscount, and finally Allan.

"What is this clutter?" She asked. "Why is the road closed?"

The Viscount’s tone softened at once. "I’m sorry, my lady. A family matter. Nothing that needs the court’s attention."

The Countess looked at Allan. "Oh, who do we have here? Lord Oakwood as well. Can you please explain what’s going on?"

"The same," Allan said. "Travel under the Duke’s leave, but the Viscount disagrees with the company."

The Countess figured both of them wouldn’t say much. She took out a golden coin from her pouch, throwing it toward the nearest commoner.

"You, tell me what happened here."

A commoner near the ditch raised his voice, the golden coin already in his tight grip. "The Baron seems to be taking the Viscount’s daughter, my lady. Open as day."

The Countess smiled, thin and sharp. Her gaze moved across Seris and Lira in the carriage window, then to Amelia’s pale face, then back to Allan. There was no warmth in it.

"Then return her," she said. "A man should not keep so many women under one roof. One is enough for any house that still values its name. The rest is invitation to scandal, and scandal has a way of reaching the capital faster than any carriage."

Allan’s jaw tightened once. He did not answer. The Countess had chosen her moment carefully. Public road. Witnesses. The Viscount already angry. Any sharp reply would only feed the story she was already shaping.

Hooves sounded from the eastern road, heavier, more numerous. The line of knights parted without being ordered. A larger carriage rolled into the center of the gathering, dark wood and the Duke’s personal seal clear on the door.

The Duke stepped down into the dust.

Silence fell across the road. The many commoners began walking away.

The Duke’s boots struck the stones once. He did not raise his voice. He did not need to.

"Viscount Arclight. Countess and Lord Oakwood." His eyes moved across each of them in turn. "Explain why my road is blocked in broad daylight."

The Viscount spoke first, careful now. "My daughter travels with this man against my counsel. I came to bring her home, my lord."

The Countess inclined her head. "I arrived to find the road closed and a public dispute. I suggested the girl be returned to her father’s house. The optics, my lord, are already poor."

Allan met the Duke’s gaze directly. "We travel under the leave you granted, my lord. The destination is Long Island. The reason is the same one you placed before me yesterday."

The Duke’s expression did not change, but something cooler settled behind his eyes. He looked at Amelia for a long moment, then at the Viscount.

"Your daughter is of age and of rank. She has already chosen once in my presence. I will not force a second choice on the open road." He turned to the Countess. "And I will not have my roads treated as private stages for family quarrels or lectures on the proper number of women a man may keep. Clear the way."

"But my lord..."

"Clear the way."

The knights shifted at once. The Viscount’s face darkened, but he reined his horse aside. The Countess’s carriage rolled back a few lengths without further word. The commoners scattered before they could be noticed.

The Duke stepped closer to Allan, voice low enough that only the two of them heard.

"You move faster than I expected. The forty-eight hours are not yet done and the map has not arrived. Are you sure you can get to that one hundred thousand gold?"

"I will," Allan said. "In time, my lord."

The Duke studied him. "Long Island is not a quiet place. The plague is inside the outer walls. Kael was seen there three days ago. Half the southern guilds are already moving and still haven’t found her. Are you sure you can do this?"

Allan gave a single nod.

"Then go." The Duke stepped back.

He returned to his carriage. The wheels turned. The road opened.

Allan climbed back into his own carriage. Amelia sat very still, hands folded in her lap. Seris watched the road ahead. Lira checked the straps on the packs one last time.

No one spoke until the last of the Arclight knights had fallen behind and the northern fork opened under the gray sky.

Allan leaned back against the wood and closed his eyes for a moment.

He opened his eyes again.

"We take the long road," he said. "No stops until the ferry."