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DEFEND YOUR “RESEARCH” WITH LEGAL JARGON (AND OCCASIONAL VIOLENCE)

KAZIMIR

The next morning, I strode into the Chamber of Accords with Arabella at my side, my hand resting possessively at the small of her back.

The bone-carved chairs and the austere emptiness of the room reminded me why I rarely used it—no one came to Skyspire to negotiate.

They came to beg or to die. The Syndicate, of course, would do neither.

At least not today.

Witchlights were already lit when I entered, revealing the towering walls draped in my crest, black roses entwined around a bleeding sword.

The high-backed chairs formed a circle in the center, each carved from bone and etched with runes of power.

I noted that the Syndicate representatives were already seated, which irritated me.

In my domain, they should have waited for me to arrive.

Zaraiah sat directly opposite my seat, her crimson gown an arrogant slash of color against the pale chair. The Alchemist occupied a seat to her right, those restless fingers forever twitching. Lady Vespera sat to Zaraiah’s left, and the other three Syndicate members filled in around them.

“Lord and Lady Blackrose,” Zaraiah greeted, voice soft as a blade sliding from its sheath. “We’re honored you could join us.”

I ignored her sarcasm and guided Arabella to the seat at my right. I settled into my own with calculated leisure. This was no mere chair made of bones, but a larger, more elaborate creation that creaked faintly beneath me. The shadows at my feet rippled in response to my mood.

“I trust Skyspire provided you with a suitable night’s rest,” I said lightly. “Some guests find the nightmares fade after a few days.”

Lady Vespera inclined her head. “The accommodations were... adequate. Though the magical turbulence proved somewhat disruptive.”

That was her opening jab. I leaned back, offering her a pointedly casual smile. “Renovations. Hardly worth the fuss.”

“Renovations,” the Alchemist echoed, clearly unimpressed.

Arabella sat still as stone beside me. We’d agreed to reveal nothing about the Heirloom or our plans to manipulate the ley lines. The Syndicate didn’t deserve such knowledge.

“My magical experiments are purely personal,” I said, letting steel sharpen my voice. “Unless you’re volunteering to serve as test subjects?”

Lady Vespera’s delicate bone hairpins caught the glow of the witchlights as she leaned forward. “When those personal pursuits threaten the balance the Syndicate maintains, we are forced to take notice. Your activities have raised alarms.”

“And here I thought the Syndicate cared only for collective interests,” I replied. “I didn’t realize my private research warranted such vigilant nursemaids.”

“Your actions reflect on all of us, Kazimir,” Zaraiah said. “When you unleash magical bursts visible from three kingdoms away, you force us all under undesired scrutiny.”

I clamped down on a twinge of annoyance. If they preferred a subtle sorcerer, they shouldn’t have allied with a fucking Dark Lord. “If you’re concerned about prying eyes,” I said icily, “perhaps you should examine Lady Vespera’s so-called expansions.”

Vespera’s eyes narrowed. “That operation was sanctioned by a unanimous Syndicate vote. We’re here because your abrupt surges in dominion magic coincide with this sudden marriage, and we need to determine if you’re weaponizing something beyond our control.”

Arabella shifted, drawing their collective stares. Calmly, she said, “Is there a question in there? Or do you simply enjoy insinuations?”

The Alchemist’s thin lips curled up in delight. “I do like her. But yes, Lady Blackrose, we do have questions, starting with the nature of your magical bond to His Supreme Darkness.”

I spoke before Arabella could. “My wife and I share a link, as married couples often do, especially those gifted with certain arcane legacies.” I paused. “Am I required to detail every aspect of our private life?”

Zaraiah’s perfect brows arched. “How fascinating. The heroic bloodline of the Evenfalls merged with your... singular heritage. Unprecedented, wouldn’t you say?”

She’d spent years rummaging for secrets about my background. Evidently, she thought today was the perfect time to corner me. I forced a dismissive smile. “Must I be planning something? Perhaps I married for companionship.”

“You’ve never done anything without a motive,” Zaraiah countered, gaze flicking to Arabella. “Since I’ve known you, it’s always been about advantage. And I knew you quite intimately, Kazimir.”

I smoothed my coat sleeve, ignoring the swirl of shadows that betrayed my growing anger. “That was long ago and irrelevant. Unless you came here for bedroom gossip, which, frankly, is beneath all of us.”

She gave a poisonous smile. “Is it? I wonder if Lady Blackrose knows the depth of your imagination when properly motivated.”

Arabella’s eyes blazed, but I cut in. “You wanted to discuss magical disturbances. I suggest we remain on topic.”

“Indeed,” Lady Vespera murmured, straightening. “The Syndicate detected vestiges of dominion magic radiating from Skyspire. We suspect you could upset the power balance if you continue on this path.”

“How dramatic,” I drawled. “Our charter allows independent research unless it threatens other Chairs.”

“Research or weaponization?” Vespera challenged. “These energies are not minor experiments.”

I shrugged, shadows curling out from under my throne. I didn’t bother to rein them in. “Speculation. I see no clear evidence presented here, just your prattling about vague concerns.”

Zaraiah leaned forward. “If you want to quell our fears, show us what you’re doing. Provide transparency. Then we won’t need to worry.”

I gave a short laugh. “Invite the Syndicate to ransack my private workrooms? Absolutely not. My projects remain my own, under the protections of the Charter.”

Vespera’s expression shifted to something more formal. “Then I invoke Protocol Seven. When a Chair holder’s actions risk destabilizing the region, they must provide full disclosure upon unanimous demand, or face censure.”

I stared coldly. “Be very sure you want to cross that line. We both know invoking Protocol Seven without cause carries penalties. I can think of a certain former Chair who still can’t hold a spoon.”

“We’re prepared to face any verdict,” Vespera said, unflinching. “Syndicate stability comes first.”

I glanced at Arabella. She watched me steadily, clearly taking in every word. “Fine,” I said at last, “then I invoke Article Three, Paragraph Four: proprietary research can remain confidential if I offer assurances of no direct threat to the Syndicate or its interests.”

The Alchemist’s twitching fingers froze mid-air. “So you refuse disclosure?”

“I uphold my rights under the Charter,” I corrected. “My work is delicate, and revealing it now would compromise everything.”

“You ask us to trust your word,” Lady Vespera said skeptically.

I spread my hands in a near-mocking gesture. “For almost a decade, the Syndicate has found me reliable enough to hold a seat among you. My integrity hasn’t changed.”

Zaraiah laughed. “How conveniently vague. Forgive us if we find that insufficient.”

Shadows licked up the arms of my throne, responding to my temper. “I don’t recall asking for your forgiveness. You can speak to my shadow warriors if you’re not satisfied.”

Zaraiah and Vespera exchanged a knowing look, some silent conversation passing between them. Then Zaraiah stepped back into the fray. “You’re so fun when cornered, Kazimir. It’s almost nostalgic.”

I sighed. “I’m not cornered—I’m bored. Is there anything else, or shall we end this charade?”

She cast a smug glance at Arabella, then pressed on. “I recall your fascination with demonic anatomy. Has your new wife heard stories of that incident?”

My pulse spiked as a hot spark of terror burned beneath my anger. Of everything she could have mentioned, that was the worst. Arabella caught my reaction, confusion clear in her face, but Zaraiah wore a self-satisfied smirk.

“You mistake desperation for strategy,” I said harshly. “But you’ve always lacked genuine understanding.”

Zaraiah’s smile curdled. “Strategy? So that’s what you call it, letting that monster?—”

CRACK.

Thorns erupted through her chair, splintering the ancient bones. Zaraiah leapt aside just in time, but her hem snagged. She tore it away as a drop of venom slicked off the thorn’s tip, hissing and melting a burn mark in the stone.

I stood, shadows swirling around me in furious arcs. “Leave. Now. Unless you’d like your entrails tangled in those vines.”

“You’re far more entertaining when you’re angry,” she said, attempting a mocking tone but not quite succeeding.

The other Syndicate members rose. None seemed shocked, implying they’d known her plan. Lady Vespera leveled a cool gaze at me. “This isn’t over. We have too many unanswered questions.”

“Then seek them elsewhere,” I snarled. My magic slapped the floor in thick, writhing tendrils. “My hospitality just expired.”

The Alchemist bowed, still wearing that half-smile. “A pleasure as always, Lord Blackrose. Lady Blackrose.” Their unsettling focus landed on Arabella. “I look forward to future conversation—perhaps involving tea, if not threats.”

I said nothing more, letting the shadows thicken until they exited. Zaraiah lingered for one final triumphant look before stepping through the door. Once they were gone, I remained standing, chest tight from the collision of rage, fear, and old ghosts.

“Kazimir?” Arabella’s voice cut through the haze. She came to stand near me, though not too close. “What was that? Zaraiah mentioned demons?—”

“Nothing,” I said tightly, unable to meet her eyes. “She’s always digging for weaknesses.”

Arabella studied me. “Then why did it affect you so badly?”

I twisted away, circling my chair, my shadows trailing like black smoke. “Because Zaraiah is very good at stirring old wounds, that’s all.”

“Is it so bad I can’t know?”

“It’s not a topic for discussion,” I snapped viciously. I forced my jaw to unclench, and measured my tone. “We should focus on next steps. Over wine, or something stronger.”

Arabella’s eyes shone with concern, but she nodded. “Fine. Will the Syndicate leave after this?”

“They will. They got what they came for: proof I’m hiding something. Now they’ll regroup to exploit it.” I forced a calm shrug, though my heart still pounded. “They won’t strike openly yet.”

She sighed, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “They seemed genuinely worried about what we’re doing.”

I offered a savage half-smile. “They should be.”