A portly nobleman in his fifties, with a round face and a belly straining against his fine clothes, sat in a carriage bound for Diamondhart Castle. He was accompanied by a young woman whose wings were the color of freshly fallen snow. They rode in silence until the spires of the castle came into view.
"We're here," the nobleman said. "Remember what I told you. You mustn't trust these people even if the marriage is guaranteed. One wrong move, and they'll discard you without a second thought. I won't be there to catch you if that happens."
"Yes, Father," she said with the practiced ease of someone who had spoken those words all her life.
"Even after the marriage, you must continue to keep your guard up. Just because they say nice things and smile kindly at you doesn't mean they mean it. If I tell you to come with me, you follow. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Father."
"Good. This is your one chance to guarantee a life of adventure. Fail, and it's all gone. Don't ruin it."
"Yes, Father."
Finally, the carriage passed through the large gates of the castle walls and rolled past the extravagant gardens. It came to a stop in front of the castle's main entrance, where a maid with black wolf ears and tail waited.
"A Shadow," the nobleman said warily.
He had heard stories about the terror of the Diamondhart Shadows. They were among the kingdom's finest assassins, unrivaled in both spying and elimination. Anyone who crossed them would vanish without a trace.
This was especially true during the time of the Demon Worshipers. Random people disappeared off the streets without so much as a whisper, only for it to be revealed later that they were cultists. Whether that was true or not was irrelevant. What mattered was that the Shadows targeted those with the tightest secrets, proving that nothing could be kept from them.
The nobleman knew he was playing a dangerous game if he pushed his luck, especially with this new Duke. The man was no pushover, assuming the outrageous stories were true.
Supposedly, the Duke had been part of the Hero's group that destroyed the Demon Lord and maintained a close relationship with the current Queen. A Queen said to have been instated by the Goddess herself.
On top of that, in less than a year, he had supposedly stopped a flood single-handedly. The rumors were outlandish, but the army's clear shift in loyalty was proof enough.
The Duke also wasn't afraid to pick fights with nobles, as Count Veymar himself had attested. He was not someone to be trifled with.
Still, that didn't mean the nobleman would simply give up his daughter for a pittance. No matter what coercion was attempted, he would fight with everything he had.
It wasn't all without hope. The Duke did have one weakness, his sense of fairness. He would not resort to violence at the drop of a hat, which meant he could be outmaneuvered. But to truly seize the upper hand, the nobleman would have to show he was ready to die for the deal and remain utterly stoic while doing so.
"Welcome, Baron Valemont. His Grace is waiting for you inside," the maid greeted.
"Take me to him," Baron Valemont demanded.
"Of course. As for the young lady, she has been invited by Lady Seraphina to join her in the gardens."
The Baron narrowed his eyes before waving his hand, allowing it. He was confident his teachings were deeply ingrained, preventing Ariel from ever betraying him.
"Please lead the Baron to His Grace, Elizabeth," the Head Maid said.
"Yes, Head Maid. Please follow me, My Lord."
They made their way through the castle halls until they arrived at the main meeting room, where the Duke usually met with the nobles under his authority.
"Baron Valemont, Your Grace," the maid announced.
"Come in," a commanding voice replied.
The Baron made his way inside and was greeted by the Duke sitting at the head of the table already waiting for his arrival.
"Have a seat," he commanded, and the Baron obeyed. "So, let's get down to business. How much do you want?"
"Your Grace, this isn't about money but the happiness of my daughter. I need to know you are willing to do anything to take care of her. Surely, you aren't suggesting I sell her to you like a slave?"
"Given your reputation among the nobles, Baron, I think that is exactly what you're doing."
Sweat began to trickle down the Baron's back. That was exactly what he was doing, and everyone knew it. Still, there was a proper decorum to these discussions, a dance of sorts. He could never admit it outright, no matter how obvious the situation was.
He was supposed to wait for the other party to begin offering gifts, not in explicit exchange for the marriage itself nor for his permission, just gifts. Only then, under that tacit understanding, could he acquiesce without arousing suspicion.
If anyone ever asked outright what the truth was, he would deny it with everything he had and more. He wasn't chaining his daughter to sell her like a slave in a kingdom that forbade such things. He was genuinely looking out for her well-being.
After all, she wasn't locked in chains, at least not ones made of metal. She was free to leave if she wished, and he truly wouldn't stop her. He couldn't, not unless he wanted to be arrested for slavery.
"Lies, Your Grace. Those rumors are simply slander. In my good name, I would never sell my daughter. If you truly believe this is the case, then I shall take my leave," the Baron said, clearly insulted.
As the Baron was about to rise, the Duke's expression darkened. The neutral courtesy he had worn at the start of the meeting vanished in an instant.
"Did I excuse you?" he said, his voice low yet threatening.
The Baron immediately sat back down, regretting his little act. He needed to be dramatic, but not at the cost of proper decorum.
"I will ask again, and I expect honesty. How much do you want?"
The Baron found himself at a crossroads. On one side, he could speak honestly, state his price, and cash out, while risking arrest for attempted slavery. On the other hand, he could keep playing the game and possibly miss his biggest client.
The real reason he hadn't accepted any other interested parties who offered enticing gifts was because of the current Duke. Right around Ariel's tenth birthday, news came of an heir being born to the Diamondharts. This was a chance to get a direct line to the Duke and possibly enjoy some second-hand benefits. So he waited to marry her off, keeping her occupied with arts instead of the combat training she truly wanted.
Somewhere along the way, he rejected plenty of offers for his daughter's hand and earned that horrid reputation. Not that it wasn't deserved, but it was bad for his image nonetheless.
When the future Duke began perusing the nobility for potential wives, he was informed by his daughter that she was his top pick, but she would have to wait until after he graduated before anything could move forward. A few more years passed, and she met with his first wife, officially married by the Queen herself. She was still the top pick, even after all these years and even though it was the first wife who made the selection.
It showed that he had a real commodity in his hands. He just needed this negotiation to go the way he expected, and he would finally be able to move up in the world of nobility. He was so close. Just a bit more, and he could profit unlike any of his ventures before. In the end, the show had to go on.
"I truly speak with honesty when I say I have Ariel's best interests at heart, Your Grace. I just want to make sure that whoever ends up marrying her is sincere in their care for her."
The Duke visibly rolled his eyes, causing the Baron to wince. They both knew he was full of shit, but so long as he kept this up, he would be able to get the Duke to eventually give in.
"Since you're so adamant about your daughter's well-being, I suppose you wouldn't complain if, instead of completing this deal with you, I completed it with her instead?"
"What?" the Baron asked, caught off guard.
"Are you hard of hearing? I said I will complete this deal with your daughter. If she agrees to marry me, I will give her the privilege of making any personal demands of me to smooth the transition. You will be left with whatever your daughter believes you deserve."
The Baron had never considered that option before. If Ariel were given the right to decide how much either of them would receive for her hand in marriage, there was a slight chance he would walk away with nothing.
He was more confident that she would defer to his judgment when asked. The question was whether the Duke would allow it.
He glanced at the Duke and confirmed his suspicion. No, he would not. He was already at odds with him, so the chances of the Duke permitting this farce to continue were slim. This meant the likelihood of getting anything at all would decrease, especially since his daughter probably harbored conflicting feelings toward him.
In that case, his choice was obvious. The dance would have to end.
"I want to be a Count."
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