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The Gremory estate's dining hall was a place built to impress: high arched ceilings painted with scenes of devils long past, crimson chandeliers spilling warm light across a table that could seat fifty. Tonight, however, only a handful sat near the head.
Zeoticus Gremory sat tall in his chair, fingers drumming lightly against the polished obsidian armrest. His wife, Venelana, rested with practiced grace at his side, her sharp eyes never missing a detail. Across from them sat Rias, her expression glowing with pride as she clung to the arm of the man beside her.
Kaelthar sat at ease, his posture casual, golden eyes steady. The servants brought out silver trays of roasted meats and fruits, yet no one reached for them. The true meal tonight was the atmosphere—thick, heavy, pressing.
Zeoticus spoke first, his tone measured but sharp at the edges.
"So this is Kaelthar. My daughter has been… unusually enthusiastic since your arrival." His gaze narrowed ever so slightly. "Tell me—what exactly are you to her?"
Before Kaelthar could answer, Rias leaned forward, her crimson hair brushing against his shoulder. "He's mine," she declared, lips curling into a defiant smile. "That's all that matters."
The words made her father's jaw tighten. He had raised Rias to be proud, but seeing that pride aimed at a man he couldn't read unsettled him more than he cared to admit.
Kaelthar glanced down at Rias, then back at Zeoticus, his voice calm and firm. "Your daughter's heart speaks the truth. I don't need to embellish it."
Zeoticus frowned. He could feel it—something hidden, something heavy. Even though Kaelthar was clearly suppressing his aura, faint traces seeped out like cracks in a sealed vault. It wasn't just power. It was dominion.
What in the world did Rias bring into my home? This man feels like… an abyss given form.
Venelana's lips quirked upward as she studied him. Where her husband saw danger, she saw something else entirely.
Ara, not just strength but composure… and that face. Handsome and frightening—like a blade sheathed in velvet. Oh Rias, you've brought home trouble, and it looks delicious.
"Dear," she said lightly, tilting her glass of wine. "You're glaring holes into our guest. At least let him taste the food before you decide whether to duel him."
Zeoticus gave her a sideways glance, annoyed at her tone but not dismissing his suspicion. "I only ask questions to know the kind of man who dares stand at Rias's side."
Kaelthar chuckled softly, leaning back. "Dares? Interesting choice of word. You make it sound like standing with her is a punishment."
Rias laughed, squeezing his hand under the table. Zeoticus's eyes flickered to the gesture, but before he could retort, Venelana let out a soft laugh.
"My, my. Confident too. I can see why Rias clings to you like a magnet." Her gaze lingered a heartbeat too long before she returned to her wine.
Across the table, Akeno finally spoke, her voice sweet but edged with something sharper. "Rias certainly has no shame showing affection tonight… how bold of her."
Koneko muttered, almost too quietly to hear, "Bold, and selfish."
Rias ignored them, leaning closer to Kaelthar, almost daring them all to object. Her cheek brushed against his arm as she smiled smugly.
Zeoticus felt the weight again, that crawling unease at the back of his neck. The man's aura pressed faintly against him even as it lay concealed, like standing at the edge of a cliff and knowing the drop was endless.
He cleared his throat, trying to mask it. "Strength is one thing. But strength unchecked brings ruin. Tell me, Kaelthar—why should I trust you with my daughter's future?"
Kaelthar's gaze didn't waver. His voice carried no arrogance, only certainty.
"Because anyone who tries to chain her down will have to go through me. And I don't lose."
The words hung in the hall, heavy and absolute.
Zeoticus didn't reply. His grip on the goblet tightened as he stared into the man who sat across from him, relaxed and unshaken.
Venelana's smile deepened. Dangerous… and irresistible. If only I were a few centuries younger—no, no… this is my daughter's man. Still… what a fascinating monster he is.
Grayfia, watching silently from her place along the wall, allowed the faintest curve of her lips. Rarely had she seen the lord of the house unsettled while his wife looked so entertained.
Dinner had only just begun, but already the battle lines at the Gremory table were drawn.
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