Chapter 64: A Big Lie

"Do not fear a monster with animal eyes, Seraphina," Kaelus murmured, patting the top of her dark hair, a gesture of fatherly affection that shocked the knights even more than the demon’s appearance. "He smelled quite filthy, but he is fast and nimble. Above all, it seems he believes he is untouchable."

Kaelus looked back toward the dark shadows where the entity had vanished, a terrifying, predatory smile curving his lips.

"But he is about to learn," the Archduke whispered to the night, "that there are much, much worse things lurking in the dark than him. For we are a strong and noble family who executes and grants filth like this death for generations."

***

The day following the encounter at the Oakhaven Night Market did not dawn with the chaotic, bustling energy of a city preparing for a festival.

Instead, it broke with the heavy, suffocating tension of a fortress bracing for a siege.

Duke Kaelus von Nacht had transformed the opulent, welcoming estate of Marquess Julian Myer into a military zone.

The guest annex was locked down behind an impenetrable web of high-tier defensive wards, multi-layered detection spells, and a barricade of Black Bastion knights whose swords remained half-drawn in their scabbards.

Kaelus himself had barely been seen since the sun rose; he was locked in the Marquess’s subterranean command center, coordinating a covert dragnet across the city with Julian’s elite guards, hunting the anomaly that had dared to threaten his daughter.

Seraphina, meanwhile, had been relegated to the safest, most heavily fortified room in the entire estate: the Marquess’s grand, three-story subterranean library.

It was a magnificent space, smelling of old parchment, leather bindings, and polished mahogany.

Sunlight filtered through high, magically reinforced clerestory windows, casting long, golden beams across the spiral staircases and towering shelves.

It was peaceful, quiet, and utterly, excruciatingly boring.

"I am a prisoner in a very expensive cage," Seraphina announced, dramatically throwing herself backward onto a massive, plush velvet chaise lounge. She stared at the painted ceiling, blowing a stray lock of dark hair out of her eyes. "A fluffy, well-fed prisoner who is currently dying of under-stimulation..."

Sitting at a heavy oak table a few feet away, Sir Gallahan chuckled softly, setting down a thick tome on Southern agricultural tariffs he had been pretending to read.

"You are not a prisoner, My Lady," Gallahan corrected gently, leaning back in his chair. His armor had been polished back to its usual blinding shine, completely discarding the ragged mercenary disguise from the night before. "You are the most precious asset in the Empire, currently being shielded from a high-level threat. There is a distinct difference."

"The difference is that I am out of sugar dragons and I have read every book in this section that has pictures," Seraphina grumbled, rolling onto her stomach and propping her chin in her hands.

She looked over at the other two occupants of the library.

Sir Lucas was standing by the massive double doors, his arms crossed, staring at the wood as if he could see through it, his scarred face set in lines of grim vigilance.

Sir Boris was sitting on the floor, the only place that could accommodate his massive frame without breaking furniture, meticulously polishing his colossal war hammer with a rag soaked in magical oil.

"If I cannot go outside," Seraphina bargained, her mind calculating the best way to extract information from her doting, heavily armed babysitters and throwing a tantrum at the same time, "then you have to entertain me! The books here are boring! They only talk about grain taxes and the Emperor’s boring lineage."

Lucas snorted, a harsh, abrasive sound. "The Imperial lineage is but a farce anyway. A collection of peacocks sitting on a throne built by men with actual blood on their hands."

Seraphina’s eyes lit up.

This was exactly the opening she had been fishing for.

In the novel she had read in her past life, the Nacht Duchy was often portrayed simply as the terrifying, monolithic ’Bad Guys’ of the North, or the brooding, edgy anti-heroes who occasionally showed up to slaughter monsters and look intimidating.

The novel rarely delved into their history, treating them as a static force of nature.

But sitting here, surrounded by the men who breathed that history, Seraphina realized she had a golden opportunity to learn about the man who had claimed her as his daughter.

"Tell me about the Black Bastion, then," Seraphina demanded, pushing herself up into a sitting position and crossing her legs. She patted the chaise lounge, demanding an audience. "Tell me about Papa Duke and his Nacht family. Why are you guys so different from the Emperor’s shiny knights?"

Gallahan and Lucas exchanged a loaded glance.

Boris paused his polishing, looking up with his one good eye.

"The history of the Nachts is not a fairy tale, My Lady," Gallahan warned softly. "There are no brave puppies or spun-sugar dragons in our past. It is a story written entirely in iron, ice, and sacrifice."

"I know," Seraphina said, her voice dropping the childish whine, ringing with a somber, mature clarity that often startled the knights. "The monster last night wasn’t a fairy tale either. Papa Duke is hunting it! I want to know why he is the only one who can."

Lucas sighed, his broad shoulders dropping a fraction of an inch.

He walked over, abandoning his post at the door, and sat heavily in a high-backed leather armchair opposite the chaise lounge.

Boris grunted, shifting his massive bulk closer to the center of the room.

"If the Lady wishes to know about her heritage, it is our duty to teach her, especially now that she is a member of the family and the Duke’s heir," Lucas declared, his gruff voice taking on the rhythmic, heavy cadence of a storyteller who had recited these words by countless campfires. "The history books in the Capital will tell you that the Nacht family was granted the North by the First Emperor as a reward for noble service. That is but a polite lie."