novelraw Chapter 478
Chapter 478
Ludger didn’t answer right away.
“Let’s talk inside,” he said instead.
Torvares inclined his head once, and together they moved through Lionfang toward the guildhall. Word followed them, as it always did, but neither slowed. Guards fell in behind Torvares at a distance, respectful enough to stay out of earshot.
They headed straight for Arslan’s office.
Arslan was already there when they arrived, standing over a map with a half-written report in hand. He looked up as the door opened, then stilled when he saw who Ludger had brought with him.
“What happened?” Arslan asked.
Ludger didn’t soften it.
“Emperor Halvyr the Third is dead,” he said.
The room went quiet.
Arslan didn’t react immediately. His eyes stayed on Ludger’s face, searching for a trace of exaggeration or misinterpretation. Then he slowly set the report down.
“For real?” he asked.
Torvares nodded once.
“Yes.”
The word carried finality. Arslan leaned back against the desk, arms folding, jaw tightening. He didn’t curse. Didn’t speak. Just stood there, letting the implications settle. Ludger broke the silence.
“What do you know about the regent?” he asked, eyes on Torvares. “Specifically.”
Torvares exhaled and moved to the side of the room, resting one hand on the back of a chair without sitting.
“On paper,” he began, “he’s unremarkable. Which is exactly why he was trusted.”
He glanced between the two of them.
“He handled logistics and administration for the Empire. The connective tissue between the imperial family and the senate. Supply chains, territorial accounting, resource distribution, budget approvals. The kind of work that never earns praise but decides whether armies move or starve.”
Arslan frowned slightly. “Not a soldier.”
“No,” Torvares agreed. “And not a zealot either.”
He straightened. “He was known for being… clean. No scandals. No obvious factional alignment. Efficient. Quiet.”
“That kind of man doesn’t just stumble into power,” Ludger said.
Torvares’ mouth twitched faintly. “No. But he’s the kind who knows where everything is buried.”
Maps. Records. Contracts. Ownership claims. Sealed labyrinths.
“He understands systems,” Torvares continued. “And systems respond to pressure. He won’t rush. He won’t threaten openly. He’ll reclassify. Reframe. Redefine what’s considered imperial interest.”
Arslan’s expression darkened.
“And if something falls under that category,” he said, “it stops being negotiable.”
“Yes,” Torvares replied.
Ludger nodded slowly. Clean on paper. Those were always the dangerous ones.
Ludger rested his hand against his chin, eyes unfocused as he turned the situation over in his head. There were too many variables and not enough levers. The sealed labyrinths had gone from a quiet, contained problem to something that brushed against the core of imperial authority, and that alone changed the rules of engagement. Every option now carried consequences that would echo far beyond Lionfang.
He was about to speak, about alternatives, about indirect pressure, about information he could gather quietly, when Torvares stepped ahead of him.
“We need to slow down,” Torvares said, his voice measured but firm. “If we insist on pushing the negotiations now, we will draw attention we don’t want.”
Ludger looked at him, expression unreadable.
“They already know we’re interested in the sealed labyrinths,” Torvares continued. “That interest is documented. Which means that any aggressive action, an invasion, a forced inspection, even a poorly disguised investigation, would point straight back to us. With the regent consolidating power, that’s the last thing we need.”
He paused, choosing his words carefully.
“The Empire is sensitive right now. Looking for excuses to reassert control. If we move too openly, they won’t ask whether we were justified. They’ll decide we’ve overstepped.”
The room fell quiet again.
“So you want me to wait,” Ludger said at last. His tone was calm, but there was a sharp edge beneath it. “To do nothing.”
“Not nothing,” Torvares replied. “Just… nothing harsh. Not yet.”
Ludger lowered his hand from his chin, his gaze steady as it fixed on Torvares.
“And in the meantime,” he said slowly, “Verk and the Rodericks get more time. Time to reinforce. Time to adjust their defenses. Time to prepare for the moment they do act.”
He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t accuse. He simply stated the reality.
“Isn’t that what this buys them?”
Torvares held his gaze, then looked away. He didn’t deny it. The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken agreement.
Ludger broke the silence first.
“What are the chances,” he asked evenly, “that the regent already has ties to the Rodericks or Verk?”
Torvares didn’t answer immediately. He considered it, weighing words instead of reaching for reassurance.
“Low,” he said at last. “But not impossible.”
That alone was enough to keep the room tense.
“He wasn’t known for personal alliances,” Torvares continued. “His position put him above that kind of maneuvering. But power changes incentives. Especially now.”
Ludger nodded once, then pressed on.
“Is there anyone else,” he asked, “who could realistically lead the Empire instead of him?”
This time, Torvares took longer.
He turned slightly, eyes drifting toward the window as if searching through memory rather than the city outside.
“The emperor’s wife died during childbirth,” he said quietly. “Years ago. There was no second consort. No siblings with a legitimate claim.”
Ludger’s gaze sharpened.
“So the next emperor,” he said, voice calm but precise, “will be raised exactly the way the regent wants him to be. Correct?”
The words hung in the air like a drawn blade.
Arslan reacted immediately.
“Don’t ask that out loud,” he said sharply. “Even if everyone here is thinking it.”
He shook his head once, jaw tight. For a moment, his expression shifted, something distant flickering behind his eyes, as if an old memory had been dragged too close to the surface.
He looked like he was about to say more. Before he could, Torvares raised his voice.
“Enough,” he said, firmer than before. “Speculation like that won’t help us.”
The shift was abrupt. He turned his attention squarely back to Ludger and Arslan.
“What will help,” Torvares continued, “is strengthening the guild. Numbers. Quality. People who can be trusted to hold ground when pressure comes.”
He paused, then added, almost casually, “The sword you helped Raukor forge for Viola was excellent. Reliable.”
Ludger didn’t respond.
“You should help him produce more like it,” Torvares said. “Standardized. Proven. The kind of weapon you can hand to the right person and know it won’t fail them.”
He straightened, posture settling back into that familiar authoritative calm. All of it sounded reasonable. Too reasonable.
Ludger didn’t look away.
He studied Torvares carefully, the timing, the interruption, the sudden redirection of the conversation. Something was off. Not wrong, exactly. Just… misaligned.
As if Torvares was steering them away from a line of thought he didn’t want to see fully formed.
Ludger didn’t look away from Torvares.
“Father,” he said calmly, “what were you about to ask?”
Torvares shifted immediately.
“We don’t need to waste time on speculation,” he said, a little too quickly. “This changes nothing about what we should…”
“I want to hear it,” Ludger interrupted.
His tone wasn’t sharp. It wasn’t confrontational.
It was final. He kept his expression neutral as he spoke, eyes still on Torvares, studying every small movement without making it obvious that he was doing so. No pressure. No accusation. Just attention.
Arslan frowned. He looked from Ludger to Torvares, then back again, clearly confused by the silent tension between them.
“You two look like you’re about to start a duel without moving,” he muttered.
Ludger didn’t respond.
After a moment, Arslan sighed and rubbed a hand over his face.
“Alright,” he said slowly. “This was a long time ago. Years. Around the time I met your mother for the first time.”
That caught Ludger’s attention properly.
Arslan leaned back against the desk, eyes unfocusing slightly as he searched his memory.
“There was a rumor in the capital,” he continued. “Not widespread. Not official. Just… something that circulated among certain circles.”
He hesitated.
“They said the king was distressed,” Arslan went on, “that his wife hadn’t produced an heir. That he was under pressure. And that, supposedly, he had a child with a consort.”
Silence fell. Arslan lifted a hand before anyone could interrupt.
“I never heard anything about it again,” he said. “No follow-up. No confirmation. Nothing. So I assumed it was exactly what it sounded like. A rumor.”
He shook his head once. “Court gossip. People making things up because they were bored or afraid.”
His gaze returned to Ludger.
“But when you asked that question just now,” Arslan admitted, “it came back to me.”
Torvares hadn’t spoken. He stood perfectly still, face composed, but the air around him felt tighter than before. Ludger nodded slowly.
“So,” he said quietly, “there may have been another child.”
“May have,” Arslan emphasized. “Or may not. I never found proof.”
Ludger finally looked away from Torvares, his thoughts already reorganizing themselves.
A dead emperor. A child heir. A regent. And a rumor that had been buried too cleanly to be comfortable.
Ludger turned back to Torvares and faced him fully.
He didn’t posture. He didn’t threaten. He didn’t even sound angry. The question came out level and precise, like a blade tested for balance before a strike.
“Is the rumor true?”
For a long moment, Torvares said nothing.
No measured denial. No carefully framed explanation. Not even an attempt to redirect the conversation. He simply stood there, silent, his expression controlled to the point of emptiness.
That silence answered more clearly than words ever could.
A dull pressure built behind Ludger’s eyes, spreading slowly until it settled into a steady throb. He breathed out through his nose, grounding himself as the implications stacked one atop another. He had spent four years keeping the Lionsguard clear of imperial politics, four years of deliberate distance, enforced boundaries, and hard refusals. Even with Torvares’ support, he had refused to let the guild become a political tool.
And now, despite all that effort, the thing he had feared most had happened anyway. Had he been naïve?
He had trusted Torvares not to do something this reckless. Not to maneuver behind his back for personal gain. That trust hadn’t been blind, Torvares had helped him repeatedly, had supported the guild even when it brought no immediate benefit. And there was Viola. That connection mattered more than either of them liked to admit.
Viola, his half sister.
The realization made the pressure in Ludger’s head spike sharply.
Had that trust been misplaced from the start? Or had it been compromised by something Torvares thought justified, necessary, even, when weighed against blood and legacy?
Ludger studied him again, more carefully this time. The timing. The interruption earlier. The sudden insistence on redirecting the conversation toward guild growth and weapon production. It all aligned now, forming a picture he hadn’t wanted to see.
He spoke again, voice quiet but certain.
“It’s Eclaire,” Ludger said. “Isn’t it?”
Arslan reacted instantly.
His eyes widened, breath catching as he turned sharply toward Ludger. “Eclaire?” he repeated, disbelief plain on his face.
The smallest of the trio.
Quiet. Unassuming. Easy to overlook. The girl Torvares had sent to the Lionsguard months ago without explanation, tucked neatly into the guild where protection, training, and anonymity came standard.
Arslan stared as the implications hit him all at once. Torvares still didn’t answer. He didn’t need to.
The silence had grown heavier now, no longer evasive but definitive, an admission without confession.
Ludger closed his eyes briefly, steadying himself as the final pieces slid into place. When he opened them again, the room felt different. Smaller. More dangerous.
The Lionsguard hadn’t chosen to enter imperial politics. Imperial politics had embedded itself inside the Lionsguard. Quietly. Patiently. And this time, it wasn’t wearing a crown.
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