Take Me Away, Dark Lord!

”Gallahan offers a soft life that leaves her vulnerable. And what Boris offers is pure barbarism. On the other hand, the House of Lucas offers practical, lethal security.”

Lucas looked at Seraphina, dropping his voice to a gravelly, conspiratorial whisper.

”We are a family of retired assassins, My Lady. Our ancestral stronghold is hidden beneath a mountain. But we are a modern, progressive family of killers. We have an indoor playground. The throwing knives in the ball pit are padded with enchanted foam so you do not lose an eye while practicing your arterial strikes. We value communication, emotional availability, and the swift, silent eradication of our enemies. If the Archduke continues to exhibit toxic, avoidant attachment styles, you give the word, and my uncles will ensure he wakes up with a venomous centipede in his mythril boots. You can be the supreme matriarch of the shadows.”

”An indoor playground?” Seraphina asked, her eyes widening in genuine interest. ”Does it have a slide?”

”It has a slide coated in frictionless alchemical grease,” Lucas confirmed proudly. ”You achieve terminal velocity before hitting the ball pit.”

Inside the tent, Kaelus stood up.

His chair scraped violently against the floorboards.

The heavy, dark mana that he had been desperately trying to suppress for three days finally breached containment.

It rolled out of the command tent like a wave of black fog, extinguishing the main campfire and plunging the three plotting knights into pitch darkness.

”I can hear every single word you treasonous parasites are saying,” Kaelus’s voice echoed through the camp.

It was a sound that belonged to the deepest, most lightless trenches of the abyss.

The three knights froze.

Slowly, Kaelus stepped out of the tent.

He was not wearing his armor.

He was wearing his dark tunic and leather trousers, looking like the lethal, unbound rogue from the Night Market.

His violet eyes pierced the darkness, glowing with murderous intent.

”Dolphins,” Kaelus hissed, glaring at Gallahan, who visibly gulped. ”Dire-Goats,” he turned his glare to Boris, who sweated profusely. ”And what? Padded throwing knives?” he finally locked eyes with Lucas, whose hand instinctively tightened on his sword hilt.

Kaelus walked slowly toward the extinguished fire pit.

”I am the Archduke of the North,” Kaelus said, his voice dropping to a terrifying, silky whisper. ”I am the Sovereign of the Vanguard. I pay your wages and forge your armor. I lead you into battle. And you are actively, openly plotting to abduct my heir using playground equipment as a bribe?”

The three legendary commanders of the Black Bastion, men who had slaughtered legions, simultaneously looked at the ground, looking exactly like three schoolboys caught stealing a pie from a windowsill.

”We are merely...” Gallahan stammered, pulling at his pristine collar. ”We are simply presenting the Lady with a diverse portfolio of... real estate options, Your Grace. For her... educational development.”

”We are ensuring she has a backup plan!” Boris grunted defensively, crossing his massive arms. ”In case the primary guardian suffers another catastrophic failure of basic human empathy!”

It was a direct, suicidal shot to the bow.

Kaelus stopped dead in his tracks.

His jaw clenched so hard a muscle twitched violently in his cheek.

He raised his hand, dark mana violently crackling around his fingertips, fully preparing to encase Sir Boris in a solid block of glacial ice and leave him on the mountain for the vultures.

”Papa Duke!”

The sweet, clear, perfectly timed voice of Seraphina cut through the homicidal tension like a hot knife through butter.

Kaelus’s hand froze mid-air.

The dark mana fizzled out instantly.

He snapped his head down to look at her.

Seraphina was sitting on the log, wrapped in her blanket, looking absolutely adorable in the moonlight.

She was holding a half-eaten roasted marshmallow on a stick.

”Papa,” she said, tilting her head innocently. ”Sir Gally says dolphins are very smart. Are they smarter than hedgehogs?”

Behind her innocent, blinking eyes was currently laughing so hard she was metaphorically rolling on the floor.

Seraphina was not oblivious.

She knew exactly what the knights were doing.

She knew they were punishing Kaelus for making her cry, and she knew Kaelus was taking it because he felt incredibly guilty.

It was the most hilarious, absurd political dynamic she had ever witnessed.

His own employees were bullying the terrifying Reaper of the North because they loved his adopted daughter too much.

She wasn’t going to leave Kaelus.

She had her blood oath.

She knew he would never abandon her.

But she also knew that if she didn’t milk this situation for everything it was worth, she would be wasting a golden opportunity.

She was keeping him on his toes.

She was making him work for her forgiveness.

She was a tiny, Machiavellian mastermind in a navy wolf gown, enjoying the best princess treatment of her entire life.

Kaelus looked at the blinking, innocent child.

He looked at the three knights, who were now hiding behind her cuteness like cowards using a human shield.

The Archduke let out a long, slow, hissing breath through his teeth.

”Dolphins are overgrown fish that smile vacantly while achieving nothing of tactical value,” Kaelus stated flatly, glaring daggers at Gallahan. ”Hedgehogs possess natural, impenetrable defenses and survive in hostile environments. They are vastly superior.”

”Okay!” Seraphina beamed, taking another bite of her marshmallow. ”But what about the slide with the alchemical grease? Sir Lucas says I can go really fast.”

Kaelus’s eye twitched violently.

He turned his terrifying glare onto Lucas.

”If Sir Lucas brings a single drop of alchemical grease within fifty feet of you,” Kaelus promised softly, his voice dripping with lethal intent, ”I will personally lubricate his broadsword with it and shove it down his throat. There will be no slides.”

”Aww,” Seraphina pouted perfectly. ”You never let me have any fun.”

It was the final nail in the coffin.

Kaelus von Nacht, utterly defeated by the combined forces of his own guilt, his treasonous knights, and a toddler, surrendered completely.