Chapter 260: Furious

"Furthermore," Roan added, leaning back, "if you had actually managed to decapitate me... well. I would have simply scooped her up, folded space, and vanished into the East. I heared that the Aethelgard Tower is always accepting prodigies. And I suspect she would thoroughly enjoy terrorizing the Elder Council."

The temperature in the study instantly dropped by ten degrees.

Kaelus’s hands flat on the desk curled into fists. The dark mana in the room hissed.

"If you ever attempt to remove her from this estate," Kaelus whispered, his voice a freezing, lethal caress, "I will not just decapitate you. I will freeze the entire Eastern seaboard. I will march the Vanguard into the Aethelgard Tower and dismantle it brick by brick. Do not test me, academic."

"Relax, Kaelus. I am merely outlining worst-case scenarios," Roan waved a dismissive hand, unbothered by the threat of continental war. "Besides, I was compensated handsomely for my theatrical services. I am a mercenary at heart."

Kaelus frowned, his protective rage pausing. "Compensated? The child has no access to external funds. What did she bribe you with?"

Roan’s pitch-black eyes sparkled with sudden, intense malice. He knew exactly what he was about to do. He was about to press the Archduke’s most sensitive button.

Roan reached into the pocket of his charcoal suit jacket.

With deliberate slowness, Roan pulled out a small, crumpled piece of a pristine white napkin. He unfolded it to reveal the prize.

It was a single, slightly misshapen, visibly burnt chocolate-chip cookie.

"She baked for me," Roan declared, his voice dripping with insufferable, overwhelming smugness.

He held the cookie up to the light, as if admiring a flawless diamond. "She marched into my study, presented me with a plate of these rustic, hand-crafted masterpieces, and hired me as her proxy. She spent time in the kitchens. She measured the flour. She mixed the dough. She endured the heat of the ovens... all for me."

The silence in the ruined study was absolute, total, and catastrophically heavy.

Duke Kaelus von Nacht stared at the burnt cookie.

The Archduke’s brain completely, entirely stalled.

The factory of vinegar, which had been relatively quiet since the dinner incident with the Valen boys, did not merely explode.

It suffered a multi-stage, cascading, apocalyptic nuclear meltdown that threatened to vaporize the entire Capital Estate.

’She baked for him.’

The sentence echoed in Kaelus’s skull like a tolling bell of doom.

’I buy her the entire inventory of La Petite Rêverie. I extort the finest pastry chefs in the Empire. I brush her hair. I act as her human furniture. And she has never, not once, baked a single item for me.’

Kaelus looked at Roan’s smug, triumphant face.

He looked at the cookie.

’He is eating her baked goods. The slick-haired, bespectacled, overly-verbal academic is consuming the fruits of her tiny, flour-covered labor. This is an outrage. This is an act of war. I will execute the head chef for allowing him access to her cookies.’

Kaelus’s jaw clenched so hard his teeth audibly ground together.

His chest heaved. The black frost returned with a vengeance, rapidly creeping across the remains of the mahogany desk, completely encasing his inkwells in solid ice.

"You..." Kaelus choked out, his voice trembling with blinding jealousy. "Hand it over. Give me the cookie."

Roan’s eyes widened in mock horror.

He immediately pulled the cookie back to his chest, protecting it like a newborn baby.

"Absolutely not!" Roan gasped, clutching the napkin. "This is my retainer fee! It is a binding contract! You cannot confiscate my baked goods, Your Grace! That is a gross abuse of aristocratic power!"

"HAND IT OVER!" Kaelus roared, literally lunging across the ruined desk, completely abandoning all dignity, swiping his long, black-gloved arm in a desperate attempt to snatch the burnt chocolate-chip cookie from the Archmage.

Roan casually leaned backward, letting Kaelus’s hand swipe empty air.

"If you want her to bake for you, Kaelus, you should try being more approachable," Roan teased mercilessly, taking a deliberate, incredibly loud bite of the cookie right in front of the Archduke’s face. "Mmm. The crunch is exquisite. You can really taste the affection."

Kaelus let out a sound that resembled a wounded, infuriated bear. He gripped the edges of the desk, fighting the overwhelming urge to summon a blizzard inside the study.

"I will have her bake me a cake," Kaelus seethed, his violet eyes glowing with manic, jealous determination. "A massive, multi-tiered cake. I will consume it entirely by myself. You will not get a single crumb, Roan."

"I look forward to the culinary competition," Roan smirked, chewing happily.

But as the Kaelus glared at the chewing tutor, the Archduke’s sharp, military mind slowly forced its way through the blinding haze of his jealousy.

The comedy of the situation was a luxury they could not afford for long.

Kaelus slowly stood up straight.

He smoothed down his charcoal linen shirt, his expression hardening, the terrifying, calculating warlord returning to the forefront.

"We are laughing now," Kaelus said, his voice dropping an octave, echoing with cold, harsh reality. "But Count Valerius is not a man who accepts humiliation gracefully. He is petty, he is vindictive, and he is a coward."

Roan stopped chewing, sensing the shift in the atmosphere. The Archmage’s black eyes narrowed. "You believe he will retaliate."

"I know he will," Kaelus confirmed grimly, crossing his arms. "Valerius cannot touch me directly. He cannot challenge the Vanguard. But he now believes I have ruined the bloodline. He believes I am politically weak. His rage will not be directed at me."

Kaelus looked toward the door.

"He will direct it at the perceived source of his humiliation," Kaelus deduced, his voice tight with protective anxiety. "He already hates Seraphina. He calls her a stray. Now, he will blame her for my ’deviance.’ He will consult his spies. They will realize the rumors are false. He will realize he was played. And when he does... he will target her."

Roan stood up from the armchair, slipping his hands into his pockets. The playful tutor vanished entirely.

"He would not dare assault her within these walls," Roan stated, analyzing the wards. "The estate is impenetrable. The Vanguard guards every exit."

"Valerius does not fight with swords. He fights with politics, poison, and paid mercenaries," Kaelus countered. "I cannot keep her locked in her bedroom forever. But I cannot personally guard her twenty-four hours a day. I must march on the Senate, systematically dismantle Valerius’s political base, freeze his assets, and permanently sever his influence over the Elder’s Council. To do that, I must leave the estate. I must enter the Palace."

Kaelus looked back at Roan, his violet eyes burning with uncompromising resolve.

"I cannot fight a political war while constantly looking over my shoulder," Kaelus said heavily. "If I am distracted by her safety, I will make a mistake. And if I make a mistake, she pays the price."

"So," Roan murmured, tilting his head. "What is the tactical play, Commander?"

"A strategic retreat under the guise of punishment," Kaelus declared smoothly, his brilliant mind having already formulated the flawless, impenetrable plan.

Roan raised an eyebrow. "Punishment?"

"I will stage a highly public, dramatic falling out," Kaelus explained, pacing the floor behind his desk. "I will announce to the estate staff, and thereby, the spies, that I am furious with Seraphina for orchestrating the prank with you. I will declare that her behavior is unacceptable for the Heir of the North."

Kaelus stopped pacing, a dark, brilliant smirk touching his lips.

"As her ’punishment’, I will officially exile her from the Capital Estate for a period of two weeks," Kaelus continued. "I will send her to the Imperial Academy."

Roan’s eyes widened slightly in genuine surprise. "The Academy? Duke, the Academy is a melting pot of noble brats and aggressive magic. It is hardly a sanctuary."

"It is the ultimate sanctuary," Kaelus corrected flawlessly. "The Imperial Academy sits on neutral, highly warded ground. It is overseen by the Emperor’s personal elite guard and the highest-ranking Archmages in the Capital. Count Valerius cannot send mercenaries into the Academy without officially declaring war on the Emperor himself. It is a fortress of public visibility. If anything happens to her there, the Crown is held responsible."

Kaelus looked at Roan.

"Furthermore," Kaelus added, his voice dropping into a low, terrifyingly intense order. "She will not be going alone. The Academy frequently accepts visiting lecturers and temporary adjunct professors. Alistair is already processing the paperwork."

Roan blinked.

A slow, incredibly wicked, delighted smile spread across his face.

"You want me to go with her," Roan laughed softly. "You want me to infiltrate the Imperial Academy as her personal, highly lethal bodyguard, disguised as a visiting academic."

"You possess the credentials," Kaelus sneered, though the reluctance in his voice was palpable. "And, much to my irritation... she trusts you. You can mask your magical signature. You can monitor the other students there as well."