The Duke’s Reborn Daughter Sometimes Chooses Violence.

“My Lady, if I had known this was a bad time….”

“No, it’s perfectly fine,” I said evenly, staring at the man in front of me.

Count Vance had looked imposing enough at the ball, but it was immediately clear he did not belong there. A brief conversation with Anias had confirmed this. Count Vance wasn’t the kind of man who would have attended that party. Which meant he had only been there because it had been my debut.

Count Vance wore a dark brown coat, fashioned out of the pelt of some beast I had never seen before. It fit his image, even if it was a little on the nose.

“I must say, I had expected you to meet me somewhere…different.” The tall man finally said.

“Oh?” I looked towards him before looking back towards the sparring ring. Violet and Sere had gone right back to their sparring, just as I’d asked them to. Damian was a dozen feet off to the side, meditating. Whether or not he was actually meditating, I could not say. Estovan sat just beside him, without me having to ask.

“I simply find I am more comfortable in this part of the manor.”

Count Vance slowly nodded. The man didn’t look very convinced at all. “And how are you faring, My Lady? After the ball?”

How direct.

Another time, I might have shied away and schooled my expression. Used my Gift. I did not do this now.

“I do admit I am quite vexed,” I said finally, letting some of the anger show. “Alas, my education on the more subtle matters is clearly a step below a snake like Greenward. House Greenward is rather adept at dealing in frivolity, while House Veyne has only ever cared about reality.”

I fixed my gaze on Violet. The girl was currently standing still, demanding that Sere punch her as hard as she could. Sere did just that. Punching Violet hard in the side, making her take a small step back. Just seeing it gave me an odd sense of deja vu. I admired Sere for going through with it. I had certainly wanted to quite more than once.

Count Vance was following my gaze. I didn’t need to say anything, and he didn’t ask. Even a military man like him could surely see the implications of having the soon-to-be-appointed Duchess of House Indri here, like this.

“Who is the girl?” He asked instead.

“Sere. She is….” I paused briefly. “A dear friend.”

The Count’s gaze fixed on me again. He folded his arms. “Let us dispense with these frivolities then, Lady Veyne.”

“We can do just that, if you stop calling me that.”

“What?”

“My name is Esra,” I said firmly. ”I might be the acting head of House Veyne, but it is clear you do not regard me that way. In such a case, I would rather you not pretend. At least while we are in private like this.”

He stared at me, chewed his lower lip. “Okay, Esra. I will be frank with you then. Your debut was a disaster. House Greenward not only overshadowed your debut, they used it as a chance to raise their own prestige, not just in Aelheim, but in Arian itself.”

He waited, perhaps for me to interrupt. I did not. He continued. “House Bulwark could easily take command from House Veyne. In a few months, I might not need to come here at all. I would be using the Farstep Circles and giving my report directly to Duke Bulwark.”

I still said nothing. Count Vance furrowed his brow. “Do you have nothing to say?”

“I was waiting for you to finish,” I said. “I am afraid you are laboring under a few misconceptions.”

“And what might those be?” Count Vance said.

“It is not simply House Veyne that is threatened. I would say that you are under the same threat yourself.” When the man didn’t interrupt, I continued. “Your expeditions outside the wall are rather profitable. Beast cores, parts, and mana crystals. First access to any Dungeons or even to a Relic Tomb. The risk might be high, yet there is still profit to be made.”

“Your point being?” For the first time, Count Vance looked defensive.

“If House Veyne were to be superseded, why would the same not go for House Vance? Why would Duke Bulward not simply assign these expeditions to one of his own generals?”

“Because we are the experts of this land.” Count Vance said immediately. “Those Central Province Lords wouldn’t know what to do with themselves in this Blighted Land.”

I smiled. “When there is a cause for profit, you might find that even a man dressed in only silks can be quite motivated. But….” I raised a finger. “Let’s say it is true, and that House Vance cannot be replaced. What does that leave you with? You would be turned into mere hunting dogs, risking your lives for people you have never met, who laugh at you behind your backs.”

I shrugged. “Naturally, the generous split House Veyne has over spoils with House Vance would not exist in such a scenario. Perhaps a split might not exist at all. They are a much higher authority, after all. Meanwhile, I said I wanted to increase the number of expeditions outside the wall. I stand by that.”

Count Vance’s jaw set as he inspected me more thoroughly. I hadn’t changed for his arrival, and as such, I was in the same training clothes I had been all morning. I hadn’t even bothered to clean the dirt.

”Pretty words, Esra,” Vance said. ”But words do not kill monsters, and they do not hold the line when the capital decides to tighten its leash.”

He stared down at me. “House Greenward now has the backing of a true martial power. You speak of expeditions and protecting our margins, but you are a child who has barely stepped out of her manor. If you were your father, things would be different. I do not like the man, but Julian Greenward has the edge.”

“His edge is not as sizable as it appears,” I said simply, meeting the man’s gaze without blinking. “House Greenward is betrothed to the third son. A third son who, as I’m sure you’ve noticed, has not even arrived in the city yet. I am told Duke Bulwark himself is currently busy subjugating a monster outbreak in the North. Greenward has an alliance, but it is clear House Bulwark is not overly invested in said alliance.”

“In any event,” Vance said, his voice tight, clearly unwilling to concede. “I am here to deliver the Wyrm Core. After that, I must return to my men. We will see if your actions match your words today.”

It was a challenge: a not unkind one, but a challenge all the same.

Count Vance reached inside one of his coat pockets, pulled out a small, white box, no larger than his own hand. Intricate markings and etchings covered the box. I knew now what these symbols were. They were runes. I didn’t know the first thing about Runolog, so I could only guess at their function here.

“You may have Estovan handle it.” He said, looking towards the man. “I am afraid I do need the box back. One of this quality is rather hard to procure.”

“You may give it directly to me.”

Count Vance stared at me, incredulous. “A beast core from these lands is not a simple thing. The core of a Wyrm will be…unpleasant to handle.”

“You may give it to me anyway.”

Count Vance hesitated, looked at me again, looked at the box. He finally reached for the clasp that held the box tight and unlatched it. The box fell open.

I had read about beast cores, of course. The books usually described them as smooth, polished spheres of crystallised mana, glowing softly like oversized gemstones. Many of them were sometimes used as gemstones.

The thing sitting in the velvet-lined box was nothing like that.

It looked less like a jewel and more like a jagged, torn-out heart made of obsidian. It was roughly the size of my two fists put together, its surface a chaotic mess of sharp ridges. Beneath the blackened, glassy exterior, a molten-gold light churned and roiled.

The pressure came immediately, filling and choking the surrounding air. It tasted like poison. The mana came in waves. In pulses. A steady thrum that bypassed the air, making my bones themselves rattle. Something about the energy itself felt wrong. This was not something any of the textbooks had mentioned.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Estovan’s hand drop reflexively to the hilt of his rapier. Violet’s shouts had died down.

“The beast cores of all monsters here retain their malice, Esra,” He said slowly. “Sometimes they burn the skin. Sometimes they freeze it. Sometimes they poison it. That’s to say nothing of them fighting the mana of the person who holds them. This is why the Ashen Wastes remain ashen.”

Channeling mana, I condensed it in my hands like Violet had been drilling into me with so much painful repetition. I was getting better now. Not just in terms of speed, but with just how much mana I could even condense in the first place. I reached for the Wyrm Core and brushed it with my fingers. It was hot to the touch.

Not hot enough to burn, but hot enough to be cautious.

I condensed more mana until that heat turned into a slight warmth. I picked up the core. It was a small thing, and yet it weighed far more than I expected. My mana made the weight fine, but just this simple thing must have been almost ten kilograms. I held the obsidian for a time, felt its gentle thrumming running into my hand.

Save for mana condensation, what I was doing required no great skill. Anyone with the absurd reserves I had could have done the same. The fact that nobody had said reserves was very convenient.

Worthy. Foe.

The Godblade whispered. I couldn’t tell if the divine weapon was referring to the monstrous beast this core had been ripped from, or the arrogant Count standing in front of me. Knowing Vaelin, it was likely both.

I looked from the core to Count Vance, who was staring at me with barely contained surprise.

“Y-you are holding it.” He said lamely.

“I am.”

“As if…as if it were just an apple.” He murmured. He stared at my hands as if he expected them to fall off my body at any moment.

Smiling, I channelled more mana. This time, I let the mana leak out. The already thick air grew impossibly heavy. The angry, toxic hum of the Wyrm Core was utterly squashed under the weight of my own mana.

The small restraint Count Vance had left his face entirely. He was now only staring at me in complete shock. Behind Vance, the sounds of the sparring ring abruptly halted. I didn’t need to turn to see their reactions. I could feel them easily enough.

I let Count Vance’s gaze linger for a few more seconds before I stopped leaking out mana. “Count Vance, I told you I wanted to authorize more expeditions, did I not?”

“You did.” He said slowly.

“I want one soon. Within seven days. I trust you can find an appropriate location in that amount of time?”

Count Vance paused for a moment. “My Lady, there is never a shortage of that in the West. And there is a place that comes to mind.”

I caught the change in his address.

“Good. There will be just one difference this time.”

“And that is?”

The solution was tied to the heart of what Count Vance had said. All of this was happening because I was not my father. I couldn’t become him, even if I tried. Yet, perhaps I might yet become a reasonable substitute.

This was just one of the steps on that long ladder.

“This time, the heir of House Veyne is coming with you.”

Chapter 59: ”The Weight of Authority.”