Chapter 249: Thrilled

His raven hair, usually slicked back or tied with martial severity, was left slightly loose, falling in soft, devastatingly handsome waves across his pale forehead.

He looked less like the terrifying Reaper of the North and more like a devastatingly romantic, brooding poet who could casually crush a man’s skull with one hand.

The effect on the Capital Estate was catastrophic.

Three passing maids had physically walked into marble pillars upon catching sight of him.

Sir Gallahan had spent twenty minutes hyperventilating in the courtyard, questioning whether the lack of mythril compromised the Archduke’s structural defense.

Alistair, the Chief Administrative Aide, was currently hovering near the study doors, clutching a clipboard to his chest, looking deeply offended by the display of exposed forearms.

"It is highly improper," Alistair muttered to himself, his emerald eyes twitching. "An Archduke does not display his elbows. Elbows are casual. The North is never casual. We are losing our geopolitical edge."

Seraphina, however, was absolutely thrilled.

Her grumpy hedgehog looked comfortable, and without the bulky armor, he was significantly easier to scale for impromptu piggyback rides.

Unfortunately, the peaceful, casual atmosphere of the estate was currently under heavy, relentless siege.

The primary aggressor was Count Valerius, Kaelus’s estranged, pompous, incredibly irritating Uncle.

Ever since the disastrous initial confrontation in the study, Count Valerius had seemingly decided that if he couldn’t intimidate Kaelus, he would simply annoy him into submission.

The Count had begun visiting the estate with clockwork regularity.

He treated the Nacht Capital Estate as if it were his own personal country club, swaggering through the halls in his gaudy, gold-embroidered coats, demanding the finest vintage wines from the cellars, and generally acting like an oversized parasite.

Trailing perpetually in the Count’s wake were Caspian and Elara, Kaelus’s siblings.

Seraphina’s initial observation of the siblings had held true.

They were incredibly subdued. They never brought any children of their own, they rarely spoke unless spoken to, and they moved through the estate like sad, beautiful ghosts tethered to the Count’s obnoxious orbit.

Whenever Count Valerius crossed paths with Seraphina, which was frequently, given her tendency to roam the estate, he made no effort to hide his disgust.

He would curl his waxed mustache, look down his nose at her, and sneer as if she were a particularly offensive piece of mud that had somehow managed to dress itself in a pinafore.

"Hmph. The stray wanders freely, I see," Count Valerius had scoffed just yesterday, side-stepping her in the grand corridor. "Ensure you do not touch the tapestries, child. Your provincial hands might stain the silk."

Seraphina had simply smiled sweetly, curtsied, and continued on her way.

She did not throw a tantrum or tattle to Kaelus. Tattling would result in Kaelus decapitating the Count, which, while highly entertaining, would cause a mountain of bureaucratic paperwork for Alistair.

No.

Seraphina was a mastermind.

She believed in untraceable, karmic retribution.

Which brought her to today’s operational deployment.

Seraphina was currently sitting on a stone bench in the sunlit interior courtyard, happily eating a bowl of sliced star-peaches, her legs swinging back and forth.

She was roughly two hundred feet away from the grand interior staircase, completely out of the line of sight.

Through her telepathic connection with her Duck Service Squad (D.S.S.), she had perfect, real-time spatial awareness of the estate.

’Target is approaching the primary staircase, My Sovereign,’ the dignified, spectral voice of Bartholomew echoed in her mind.

The ghost-butler was currently possessing a small, silver-threaded paper duck perched inconspicuously on top of a marble bust of a long-dead Archduke near the stairs.

’Understood, Butt-tolomeow,’ Seraphina transmitted back, popping a peach slice into her mouth. ’Wait for maximum audience engagement.’

Count Valerius was currently descending the grand staircase.

He was walking with his usual, pompous swagger, his chest puffed out, loudly berating a group of terrified Capital maids who were attempting to polish the banisters.

"You missed a spot, you incompetent wretches!" the Count barked, waving his heavy, gold-tipped walking stick. "The standards of this estate have plummeted since Kaelus allowed feral peasants to dictate the decor! Scrub harder!"

Caspian and Elara were walking three steps behind him.

As the Count yelled at the maids, Elara subtly turned her head, rolling her beautiful emerald eyes in exhausted irritation.

Caspian stared at the back of the Count’s head with a look that strongly suggested he was calculating how much force it would take to push the old man down the remaining stairs.

’Now, Sovereign,’ Bartholomew transmitted. ’He is at the optimal kinetic juncture.’

Seraphina closed her eyes.

She didn’t move a single muscle on the bench.

She channeled a thread of her Supreme Dark Core through the ambient leylines of the estate, using Bartholomew’s paper duck as a targeting relay.

She didn’t use a massive wave of force.

She executed a manipulation of gravitational physics.

She targeted the heavy, ornate gold buckle of the Count’s expensive silk trousers.

SNAP.

The metal buckle did not simply unlatch.

It actively exploded under a sudden, pinpoint burst of intense gravitational pressure. The leather belt sheared in half.

Physics took over with ruthless efficiency.

Count Valerius was mid-stride, his foot hovering over the next marble step.

Without the structural support of the belt, the heavy, gold-embroidered silk trousers immediately plummeted to his ankles.

The grand staircase became the stage for a spectacular, slow-motion disaster.

The Count’s trousers hit his shiny leather shoes.

His next step met tangled resistance. He let out a high-pitched, undignified squawk, his arms pinwheeling wildly in the air as his center of gravity completely betrayed him.

He pitched forward.

However, because Seraphina was a benevolent mastermind, she didn’t let him crack his skull on the marble. She manipulated the gravity just enough to alter his way of trajectory.

Count Valerius tumbled head-first off the side of the stairs, plunging directly into a decorative indoor fountain filled with cold water and very surprised silver koi fish.

SPLOOSH!

A geyser of water erupted into the air.