Page 108

In the long, stark white hallway, two figures walked side by side.

One was a bulky man, arrogance and anger etched on his face.

The other, a lean man, carried himself with a stoic presence, yet at this moment his relaxed bearing gave him an air of ease.

The hostility between them, however, was unmistakable.

Essence rippled around them with every step, like a coiled force ready to unleash at a moment’s notice.

"Why are you doing this?" Gunnar asked, his voice barely restraining the unmasked disdain.

"What am I doing, brother?" Lucian replied, his tone nonchalant as he matched Gunnar’s stride, step by step, beside his so-called elder brother.

"You know what I’m talking about," Gunnar thundered, his steps halting abruptly as he blocked Lucian’s path.

"Watch your manners," Lucian reminded him, a warning lacing his voice.

"You are standing in the grand castle—more so, on the very floor of the royal family.

" He stepped closer to Gunnar’s hulking frame.

"One wrong move, and only the news of your demise will leave this floor," he whispered near Gunnar’s ear.

His sharp gaze flicked over his shoulder, as if aware of unseen figures moving in the dark shadows, their presence veiled even by the stark white that dominated the hallway.

"Like hell it will," Gunnar retorted, shoving Lucian in a sudden burst of aggression. But Lucian remained steadfast, his feet planted firmly as if rooted to the ground.

"And no, I do not know what you are talking about," Lucian added as he stepped slightly back, locking eyes with Gunnar, daring him with his calm yet defiant demeanor to cause trouble.

Gunnar turned abruptly and resumed walking, his frustration evident. They rounded a corner, and Lucian noted that though Gunnar was fuming, he was not foolish enough to let his rage lead him to a mistake that could cost him his life.

"You know he’s just using you," Gunnar muttered as they walked. "He wants to rile me up by bringing you here."

"You think I don’t know that? But he helped me when I needed it most. He gave me a choice," Lucian replied, glancing at his brother. "And I made my decision."

The grand staircase loomed ahead, spiraling downward to the floor below. As they descended, Gunnar’s voice echoed with barely concealed menace. "You will go against me?"

"I never did that before," Lucian said, his steps measured. "Not even when you bullied me because you were insecure about Father paying more attention to me than you." His words were calm, but carried a piercing edge.

"Now, don’t deny it," he continued. Gunnar chuckled, a low, grating sound.

"Yes, he did," Lucian went on, unwavering.

"But even you knew it was only because he believed you would inherit the headship. You had the family’s power, while I.

.." He hesitated, his voice tinged with quiet pain.

"I was an anomaly—both my power and my appearance were unlike anything the Blackwood family had seen. "

"But you," Lucian pressed, stopping a step above Gunnar on the staircase, "you became insecure, thinking he wanted to make me head.

You started targeting me—hurting me, bullying me.

" He stepped closer with each accusation.

"Just to prove I didn’t want the throne, I left the house.

" His voice grew sharper. "But even that didn’t satisfy you. "

Lucian’s words hit like hammer blows. "I left for the academy to escape you, but you still didn’t leave me alone." Gunnar stood his ground, his expression unyielding, as Lucian continued his relentless tirade.

"And then, when I finally asked for your help—something you could have easily granted as the head of House Blackwood—you still disappointed me. But his Highness, not knowing anything about me, offered his aid."

"That’s because he’s looking to poach—" Gunnar began, but Lucian cut him off.

"I don’t care. I was desperate, and you turned me away. I pledged my support to someone who would at least give something in return."

"For a vampire girl?" Gunnar sneered, disbelief clouding his features.

"The main point, my brother," Lucian said, his voice rising with barely suppressed anger, "is that I cared for her. I wanted to protect her, to keep her close."

"So yes, Gunnar, I will support his Highness Caelan. Yes, I will stand against you. Hundreds of years of passivity should have been enough to allay your doubts about my intentions, but it wasn’t." Lucian brushed past him, descending to the floor below. "So now, I don’t care anymore."

For a moment, Gunnar stood frozen before following him down.

Both men reached the third floor, where the royal armory, treasury, and other key facilities were housed.

Knights of Zenith lined the hallway in striking silver armor, interwoven with dark silver patterns.

Their imposing helmets, mostly dark silver with gleaming silver linings, framed their piercing eyes that tracked the two figures as they passed.

They halted before the grand towering doors of the Royal Treasury.

"I am here on the order of His Highness, the Prince, so Gunnar Blackwood may withdraw 250,000 Crescent coins from the treasury," Lucian announced to the guards stationed by the doors.

One guard opened the door and stepped inside. Moments later, an elderly man with white hair and sharp brown eyes emerged, carrying a leather briefcase.

"Here," the man said, presenting the case.

"By order of His Highness the Prince, and under the watchful eyes of his valued assistant, Lucian Blackwood, I, Zorak Ironward, assign these 250,000 Crescent coins to Gunnar Blackwood.

" His brown eyes shimmered with essence, a subtle detail that did not escape Lucian’s sharp notice.

Likely, Zorak was recording the exchange for accountability.

"Thank you," Lucian said, taking the briefcase and handing it to Gunnar. They turned and retraced their steps back to the staircase.

"You’ll regret this," Gunnar spat. "He’s just a child. I could do whatever I want under his nose, and he wouldn’t be able to touch a strand of my hair." He sneered at Lucian. "You standing by his side won’t save him."

Lucian paused, then turned away, ascending to the top floor as Gunnar descended. "Fool," Lucian murmured under his breath. He knew exactly why His Highness had sent him alongside Gunnar—likely to provoke him further. And Gunnar had taken the bait, as predictable as ever.

As Lucian reached the top, he reflected on His Highness’s generosity. At least to him and Elina, Caelan had been kind. Just as he stepped onto the floor, his steps faltered, a flicker of longing crossing his face.

"Maybe," he whispered, his voice tinged with unspoken emotion. But the moment passed, and he composed himself, striding toward the living room where His Highness awaited.