Page 12 of Warlord’s Plaything

12

XYRON

T he air inside the council chamber is thick with incense and hidden threats. The same meeting. The same topic. They just can’t leave it alone.

I lean back in my chair, fingers curled around the cool stone armrest, posture deceptively relaxed as Valis sneers across the table.

I should gut him.

The thought is idle, casual—like pondering whether to have wine or whiskey with dinner.

"She is a problem."

The words slither from his mouth, slow and deliberate, every syllable coiling like a viper about to strike.

"And you, Lord Xyron, are letting it fester."

I don’t react.

Not outwardly.

Because that’s what they want.

The chamber is full tonight.

The high-ranking dark elves of House Herox, gathered around a massive obsidian table, their robes thick with wealth, their expressions sharpened by centuries of cruelty.

They are older than me.

But not stronger.

And they fucking know it.

Xiva, my father, sits at the head of the table. He hasn’t spoken yet, just watches, eyes half-lidded, fingers tapping a slow rhythm against his goblet.

The others wait for his word.

But Valis speaks anyway.

He's a rat who thinks he can bite a wolf.

"The human bitch defies us openly," he continues, voice silken with malice. "She incites rebellion among the slaves, mocks our traditions. And yet ? —"

He gestures toward me with his goblet, wine sloshing over the rim.

"She still breathes."

A calculated silence follows.

Then—Kaelith chuckles.

Kaelith.

My second-in-command, my war general, the only one in this room whose hands are as bloodstained as mine.

He sits with one boot braced against the table’s edge, his smirk sharp, amused.

"Maybe he likes the fight."

His voice is a lazy drawl, but there’s an undercurrent of something darker beneath it.

Valis stiffens. "You think this is a game?"

"No," Kaelith murmurs. He raises his head toward me. "I think he’s testing something. Waiting. Watching. And we all know he doesn’t keep things around unless they serve a purpose."

His gaze meets mine across the table.

Waiting.

He’s trying to read me.

Trying to see if I’m losing my grip.

I smile.

Let them wonder.

"Your fascination with her is becoming problematic."

This time, it’s Xiva who speaks.

His voice is quiet. Too quiet.

The kind of quiet that has preceded execution orders in this chamber before.

I sip my wine. Unbothered.

"Fascination?" I repeat, lifting a brow.

The others shift slightly.

I can feel the thin thread of patience tightening.

"You think I let her live because of… interest?"

I let the word drip with amusement, with insult.

Let them hear how ridiculous they sound.

Xiva doesn’t blink.

"Isn’t it, son?"

I exhale slowly, setting my goblet down. Careful. Deliberate.

"No."

I stand, pacing slowly, letting my boots echo against the stone.

"I let her live because she amuses me."

A lie.

But a lie they will believe.

I glance at Valis, smirking.

"Would you rather she amuse you?"

His face darkens. "She is dangerous."

"So am I."

A silence.

One thick enough to choke on.

"If you cannot keep your pet on a leash ? —"

I move before he finishes.

Not fast.

Not angry.

Just enough to remind them why they fear me.

My fingers curl around the back of Valis’s chair, dragging him forward slightly.

His breath hitches.

"Do you think I don’t know what she is?" I murmur, voice low. Measured.

A flicker of something in his eyes.

Fear.

He masks it well, but I feel it.

"I know exactly what I’m doing."

The chamber holds its breath.

I lean in slightly.

"The question is ? —"

Let them ache for it.

"Do you?"

Valis exhales shakily.

But he doesn’t push further.

He knows.

Xiva watches me for a long moment.

Then, finally, he smirks.

"Very well. But do not forget—every leash can tighten, even yours."

A warning.

A subtle knife to the ribs.

But I just bow my head slightly, playing the obedient role.

As the council disperses, Kaelith lingers.

He waits until the others are out of earshot, then murmurs,

"They’re starting to wonder, you know."

I sip my wine. Feign boredom.

"About?"

Kaelith watches me. Too closely.

"What she is."

A flicker of something sharpens inside me.

He continues, tone amused. But not entirely.

"You see it, don’t you? The way she moves. The way she fights. It’s not just training."

He exhales.

"She’s something else."

I roll my shoulders. "And?"

Kaelith smirks.

"And if you don’t figure it out soon, someone else will."

He leaves.

And I?

I grip my goblet so hard, the stone cracks.

He's right.

And I hate that it’s the first time I’m willing to admit it.