Chapter 517 – The Marshal’s Dilemma.

A man wearing silvery armor stood in the muted glow of a flickering lantern inside his field tent, surrounded by maps, tactical scrolls, and half-empty water goblets. Outside, dawn was breaking, casting an ashen light across the misty, dew-soaked landscape. The faint, rhythmic clinking of armor and murmurs of the camp beginning to stir reached his ears, but the atmosphere was hushed inside his tent.

A rustle at the entrance caught his attention. He turned, eyebrows raised, as one of his knights entered, bowing slightly. It was one of his knight commanders, still in full armor, bearing the signs of urgency. His helmet was tucked under one arm, and beads of sweat glistened on his brow despite the cool morning.

“Lord Marshal.”

The knight said, his voice low and grim.

“Urgent news. Count Graham De Vere seeks to speak with you through the crystal. He was… insistent.”

Wentworth Arden’s gaze hardened. The Count’s sudden attempt to contact him could only mean one thing: De Vere had heard of his son’s absence. He’d anticipated it might happen, but not so quickly.

“Did he say anything further?”

Wentworth asked, his voice as cold as iron.

“No, my lord. Only that he demanded your presence at once and that the matter concerned Lady Lucille.”

“Lady Lucille?”

“Yes, Lord Marshal.”

Wentworth made a single, silent nod, digesting the information. He was aware that his son had vanished during his return home. His knights were unhurt, beaten by an unidentified foe that managed to pierce through a magically reinforced carriage. Count Graham was on the list of suspects as he clearly despised his son for what he did but they had made a pact of non-aggression.

The contract was designed to prevent him from ever harming his son, either directly or indirectly. However, there was always a possibility of finding ways around it. Some nobles had groups willing to do their bidding without requiring explicit orders. A contract only bound those who signed it, not others.

Certain loopholes made evasion feasible. A clause in the contract required Graham to disclose or eliminate any groups he knew of that might act on his behalf. To circumvent this, he could have one of his loyal men form a group independently, without an explicit order. If Graham genuinely didn’t know whether such a group existed, he couldn’t be held accountable. However, establishing a structure like this was exceptionally difficult, and most nobles were reluctant to create covert organizations they couldn’t fully control. There was always the risk that the vassal managing such a group might instigate a revolt, leaving them unable to foresee it coming.

“Very well. Have the mage prepare the crystal and see that we are not interrupted.”

The knight bowed, his expression showing understanding. He exited the tent swiftly, a few moments later, a mage returned, carrying a small, intricate wooden box engraved with runes. He placed it carefully on the low table in front of Wentworth, bowing his head respectfully before stepping back. Wentworth’s fingers brushed over the box that held the crystal inside before opening it.

“Is it ready?”

“Yes, Lord Marshal.”

“Begin the spell then.”

After the mage was ordered he proceeded with the spell. He murmured an incantation, his hands moving gracefully as faint, silvery trails of mana sparked and gathered around the crystal inside the box. The orb pulsed with a faint, icy-blue glow as the spell activated, and the shape of Count Graham De Vere materialized within, his face immediately contorted with anger.

“Wentworth Arden! There you are!”

Graham’s voice seethed through the magical connection, his piercing gaze locking onto Wentworth’s steady expression.

“I demand an explanation. I received a message from my daughter, stating she has eloped with your son and fled the kingdom! I should have known you’d be involved in this deception!”

Wentworth’s expression remained impassive but inside he was calculating his thoughts. If what Graham was saying was true, then not only did his son vanish but so did his lover. To make things even more peculiar, the Count was claiming that the two had eloped and fled the kingdom together, a thing that perhaps only happened in romance novels and not something that he didn’t believe.

“Count De Vere.”

He began speaking, his voice stoic as ever.

“I assure you, I have had no part in Robert’s recent… actions. In fact, my son disappeared from our own ranks, and I’ve since been unable to locate him.”

Wentworth tilted his head slightly as if annoyed at the accusations.

“This is as much a surprise to me as it is to you.”

Graham’s face twisted, his suspicion persisting.

“So you say, Lord Arden, but the fact remains that your son is nowhere to be found and my daughter – my daughter, Wentworth – is gone without a trace. What do you intend to do about this? Surely you’re not planning to ignore it?”

Wentworth’s jaw clenched at the veiled threat in Graham’s words. While the Count was two ranks above him as a noble, he was still a Marshal, someone very involved in the kingdom’s military.

“Count De Vere, I would advise you to tread carefully with your accusations. My son’s disappearance is no less a blow to my family than your daughter’s departure is to yours. And yet, I have not thrown unfounded accusations your way.”

Wentworth’s voice, cold and restrained, carried a warning that made the Count’s face harden. The magical projection wavered slightly, but Graham leaned forward, his eyes narrowing as he delivered his response.

“If I learn that you or any of your family has been involved in this charade, Marshal, you will be held accountable, treaty or no treaty. Your son was seen with Lucille in the past, and I have no doubt he used some underhanded means to take her from me!”

Wentworth’s eyes flashed as he did not appreciate Graham’s insinuations, particularly the Count’s blatant disregard for his rank.

“You forget yourself, Count,”

He said, his tone getting low., turning into a threat.

“I’ve tolerated your disrespect long enough. Let me remind you that while I do not carry your title, I command forces that protect this kingdom, including yours. If you are so quick to break our contract over mere suspicion, I will not hold back.”

The two men locked gazes through the flickering projection. Graham’s mouth twisted into a scowl, but before he could respond, one of Wentworth’s advisors stepped forward and whispered urgently into his ear.

“Sir, there’s news from the estate.”

The advisor murmured, keeping his voice low.

“They’ve seen a magical message left by your son… he claims he’s eloped and wed Count De Vere’s daughter.”

Wentworth’s eyes widened briefly before he quickly regained his composure. This news confirmed the information Count Graham had been sharing: Robert had indeed eloped with Lucille, defying his direct orders. This wasn’t just reckless; it was potentially disastrous. Yet, amid his anger, a faint glimmer of confusion crept in. There was more to this story than he was being told, and perhaps the Count could fill in the missing pieces.

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“Count Graham, it appears that your words were true but there is something you are leaving out, how was it possible for your daughter to be abducted directly from your home?”

Graham was still frowning but when Wentworth questioned him, his expression darkened further. It was clear that he was hesitating to answer this question but after a sigh, he finally started talking.

“Marshal Arden…”

Graham began, his tone shifting from the previous outrage to a begrudging acknowledgement

“Our estate has… certain defenses in place. But it seems they were bypassed with alarming ease. An unknown assailant wearing strange green clothing breached the tower where Lucille was held. This person wielded unusual magic, magic our mages couldn’t detect until it was too late.”

Wentworth’s gaze narrowed as he tried to piece things together.