Chapter 263: A Warning

(Remote Mountain Peak, Alaric Ironveil’s POV)

If there was one thing Alaric knew about Drew Dawnriver, it was that the man had never been particularly fond of mincing his words.

The Great Duke of the East was a rather straightforward individual who preferred speaking his mind, regardless of how uncomfortable his words might make those listening to him.

He was never particularly interested in the political games that other nobles enjoyed playing, and although his bluntness had earned him plenty of enemies throughout the Empire, it had also earned him a reputation for being a man of his word.

Which was precisely why, as the two Great Dukes sat beside one another upon the edge of the mountain, Alaric found himself paying particularly close attention to what his old friend was about to say.

"As you must know, old friend, Riven is the only heir I have left now."

Drew began, staring towards the distant valleys as he rested his forearms upon his knees.

"And even he isn’t a son I had with any of my lawfully wedded wives. Truth be told, if circumstances hadn’t forced me to bring him into White Castle, and if even one of my other sons were still alive, that boy would probably still be wandering somewhere outside the Empire."

Alaric raised an eyebrow, although he refrained from interrupting.

’Still as blunt as ever, you bastard. Even when talking about your own son.’

He thought, shaking his head slightly as Drew continued.

"But that’s not the important part, Alaric. What you ought to be asking yourself is how the hell House Dawnriver ended up with only one surviving heir in the first place?"

Drew paused briefly, his expression growing considerably more serious.

"My eldest son died shortly after graduating from the Imperial Academy. He had been managing one of our territories when he rode out with his men to eliminate a bandit camp, and unfortunately, things didn’t go according to plan."

The Duke shook his head.

"At the time, I accepted it. He was young, inexperienced, and perhaps a little too eager to prove himself. Men make mistakes on the battlefield, and sometimes those mistakes cost them their lives."

Alaric listened quietly, remembering the news of the young Dawnriver heir’s death and the condolences he had personally sent to White Castle.

"But then my second son died. And after him, the third."

Drew continued, his voice growing heavier.

"Three sons, Alaric. Three perfectly healthy young men, all dead within a relatively short period, and every single one of their deaths explained away as some unfortunate accident."

He turned towards his old friend.

"Now, I might be a stubborn bastard, but I’m not a fool. By the time my third son died, I knew something wasn’t right."

Alaric frowned.

"What did you find?"

"Enough to make me wish I’d started looking sooner."

Drew replied bitterly.

"My eldest son was never supposed to participate in that bandit raid. His original orders were to send out his captain’s, and yet somehow he ended up leading the expedition himself."

The Duke paused, clenching his jaw.

"And my third son? That boy hated the Potions class he supposedly volunteered to take at the Academy. I knew him, Alaric. I knew what interested him, what he enjoyed, and what he couldn’t stand. Yet somehow, the records showed that he’d personally requested enrollment.

And that he died after having inhaled poisonous fumes from an experiment gone wrong."

Drew shook his head.

"Small things, perhaps. Nothing that would convince an Imperial court to open an investigation, but enough to make a father wonder why every explanation surrounding his sons’ deaths seemed just a little too convenient."

Alaric remained silent, although the implications of Drew’s words were becoming increasingly difficult to ignore.

"And the deeper I looked, the more convinced I became that these weren’t accidents. Someone had been systematically eliminating my heirs, and whoever was responsible possessed enough influence to ensure that every death appeared perfectly ordinary."

Drew continued, his expression darkening.

"And eventually, I realized who stood to gain the most from wiping out the Dawnriver bloodline..."

"The Emperor."

Alaric muttered, although there was considerable skepticism in his voice.

"Who else?"

Drew replied, turning towards him.

"Think about it, Alaric. If Riven dies tomorrow, House Dawnriver will have no surviving male heir.

And although I’m not impotent yet, and I could certainly father another son, Imperial law dictates that there always be a named caretaker to a Ducal House, if there comes a time where there is no surviving heir."

He gestured towards the Eastern territories stretching beyond the mountains.

"It would take another twenty years, perhaps longer, before that child became old enough to inherit my position. Twenty years during which anything could happen to me."

Drew paused, allowing his old friend to consider the implications.

"And according to the laws established by my own ancestors, if I were to die without an heir capable of assuming the ducal throne, the Emperor could appoint from among my bannermen the new caretaker of the East.

Now I know for sure that the Emperor will appoint a puppet.

Someone willing to accept the Emperor’s support in exchange for ensuring that House Dawnriver never regained its former authority."

He let out a bitter chuckle.

"And just like that, the East would fall under Imperial control without Diomande ever needing to send a single soldier across our borders."

Alaric stared towards the distant valleys, considering the possibility.

"You’re assuming quite a lot, Drew."

"Of course I am. Because the bastard has been careful enough to make sure I can’t prove a damned thing."

Drew snapped, before forcing himself to calm down.

"But answer me this, old friend. Do you honestly believe Diomande would ever move openly against one of the four Great Ducal houses?"

Alaric said nothing.

"Of course he wouldn’t. He’s far too clever for that. He understands that openly violating the agreements made by his ancestors would give the remaining Great Dukes every reason to unite against him."

Drew continued, his voice becoming increasingly forceful.

"So instead, he keeps smiling, keeps honoring those ancient oaths in public, and quietly works towards a future where none of our families possess enough power to challenge his descendants."

He turned fully towards Alaric.

"And I swear upon my life, if we allow him to continue, House Dawnriver won’t be the last family he destroys. We’ll simply be the first."

Alaric frowned, although he continued listening.

"Look at what happened during Black Week."

Drew continued.

"You’re telling me that some unidentified Ascendant somehow infiltrated the Imperial Academy, one of the most heavily protected institutions in the entire Empire, and nobody knows how he entered or escaped?"

The Duke shook his head incredulously.

"And of all the students attending that Academy, this mysterious attacker somehow ended up involved in an incident concerning my son and yours. The heirs of two Great Ducal houses."

Drew leaned closer.

"Doesn’t that strike you as a little too convenient?"

Alaric’s expression tightened.

"Gary was nearly killed, Drew. Don’t think for a moment that I haven’t been asking those same questions."

"Then ask yourself another."

Drew replied immediately.

"Why the hell would an Ascendant of that caliber use my son’s weapon?"

Alaric looked towards him.

"Think about it. We’re talking about someone powerful enough to infiltrate the Academy, overwhelm its defenses, and disappear without leaving behind a trace. Are you seriously telling me that such a person couldn’t afford a weapon of his own?"

Drew shook his head.

"No. He deliberately used Riven’s halberd because the entire incident was meant to implicate him."

He continued, his expression hardening.

"Twenty-one dead students, a weapon belonging to my son, and an Imperial investigation conveniently prepared to declare him responsible. It’s a bloody smear campaign, Alaric. They want to make Riven unfit to inherit the East."

Alaric remained quiet, although his red eyes had narrowed considerably.

"And I genuinely believe they intended for Gary to die as well."

Drew added, his voice becoming quieter.

"Because if your son had been murdered during an incident supposedly caused by mine, what reason would you ever have to stand beside House Dawnriver again?"

Alaric’s jaw tightened, although he offered no immediate response.

"Now, I’m not going to force you into anything, old friend."

Drew continued, allowing his voice to settle.

"You have your meeting with Vinicius tomorrow. Attend it. Hear whatever lies that bastard has prepared for you, and if you still believe Diomande deserves your loyalty afterward, then so be it."

He looked directly into Alaric’s eyes.

"I’ll meet you on the battlefield if that’s what it comes to. But before you make that decision, there’s something I want you to understand."

Drew paused.

"The Emperor expects your loyalty, Alaric. He believes he’s entitled to it simply because his ancestors once wore the same crown he does today."

His expression hardened.

"But the moment he begins to question that loyalty, even slightly, he’ll find a way to remove you. And he won’t do it by challenging you to an honorable war."

Drew shook his head.

"He’ll do it the way cowards always do. One son poisoned. Another murdered by bandits. Perhaps one of your daughters dies in some unfortunate accident that nobody can properly explain."

Alaric’s expression darkened at the mention of his children.

"And after every death, he’ll send you another beautifully written letter expressing his deepest condolences, while the people responsible quietly disappear before anyone can question them."

Drew continued, his voice carrying a bitterness that Alaric had rarely heard from him before.

"Until one day, you’ll wake up and realize that there’s nobody left to inherit your name. And when you finally die, some ambitious bannerman will take your place with the Emperor’s blessing."

He paused, allowing the warning to settle.

"House Ironveil will still exist on paper, perhaps. But everything your ancestors built will belong to someone else."

For several moments, neither man spoke.

"You can dismiss all this as the ramblings of a paranoid old bastard if you want."

Drew finally continued.

"But open your damned eyes, Alaric. Look at what’s happening around us. Look at how conveniently every tragedy seems to benefit the Imperial throne."

He gestured towards the distant capital.

"Nobody should be able to infiltrate the Imperial Academy, and yet your son almost died there....

I’m sure that when the public hearing starts, they’ll find a way to pin the blame on Riven.

However, while everything else is disputed, there’s one thing Riven did that nobody can deny...."

Drew continued, his voice becoming firm.

"When your son was lying injured and helpless, it was Riven who carried him to safety."

He looked directly at his old friend.

"And he did that because he’s a Dawnriver, Alaric. Because whatever the Imperial Court wants the world to believe about him, that boy understands what it means to stand beside his own."

Drew fell silent, leaving Alaric to consider everything he had said.