I Died and Became a Noble's Heir

Chapter 195: 25 Vistors

His pristine white cloak barely moved as he stepped forward. ”How presumptuous of House Kaiser to assume we would answer a summons from an absent heir.”

”Nevertheless,” Seraphina replied calmly, ”you are here. Which suggests the summons was compelling enough to warrant your presence.”

The Starfell emissary’s expression soured. His hand moved with casual cruelty, striking Seraphina across the face with enough force to turn her head.

The crack of palm against cheek echoed across the courtyard.

”We do not,” the man said coldly, ”speak to servants.”

Seraphina’s head remained turned for a moment, her dark hair falling across her face. When she straightened, there was no anger in her expression, no pain, no reaction at all.

Just that same cool assessment, as if cataloging the man’s face for future reference.

”Noted,” she said simply.

The minor house representatives shifted uncomfortably. A few of the major house emissaries looked disapproving, though whether of the strike or of Seraphina’s composed response was unclear.

Before the situation could escalate further, footsteps echoed from the estate entrance.

Octavia descended the steps with the measured grace of someone who’d been trained since childhood to command attention without demanding it.

Her dress was elegant but practical and her hair pulled back in a braid.

Behind her, Celeste and Annabelle followed at a respectful distance, both wearing expressions that mixed curiosity with concern.

Octavia’s eyes took in the scene immediately. The assembled delegates. The colors of five major houses. Seraphina’s reddened cheek. The Starfell emissary’s self-satisfied expression.

”Gentlemen,” Octavia said, her voice carrying the steel-wrapped-in-silk tone that her mother had perfected over decades, ”what brings so many esteemed houses to our door?”

The Starfell emissary opened his mouth, but Octavia’s gaze fixed on him with such intensity that he actually hesitated.

”And before you speak,” Octavia continued, her tone dropping several degrees in temperature, ”I should inform you that Seraphina is not merely a servant. She is a valued member of this household, trusted advisor to my brother, and under the protection of House Kaiser.”

Her eyes narrowed. ”Striking her is striking us. I trust that was simply a misunderstanding born of travel and fatigue and not a deliberate insult that would require... correction.”

The courtyard fell silent.

The kind of silence that preceded either violence or diplomacy, depending on who blinked first.

Octavia felt the familiar tingle of dark magic pooling in her fingertips, shadows responding to her barely controlled fury.

It would be so easy to teach this pompous bastard what happened when someone laid hands on her people.

”Lady Octavia,” Seraphina’s voice cut through the tension, calm as still water. ”It’s quite alright. These things happen when protocol isn’t immediately clear.”

Her dark eyes met Octavia’s with a message that was crystal clear.

Not now. Not here. Let the young master handle it.

Octavia’s jaw tightened, but she forced the shadows back, willing the magic to dissipate. ”As you say, Seraphina.”

She turned her full attention to the assembled delegates. ”Now. What is it you want?”

A woman from House Veyra stepped forward, her silver and blue dress marking her as someone of significant rank within Evelyne’s family network.

Her face was angular, intelligent, and considerably less hostile than the Starfell representative.

”Lady Octavia,” the woman said with a respectful nod, ”we have been summoned by Jack Kaiser. Correspondence was sent to each of our houses detailing an imminent military threat and requesting our presence with whatever forces we could muster.”

Octavia blinked. ”Summoned? By Jack?”

”Yes, my lady.” This came from House Arydn’s representative, a broad-shouldered man whose crimson and gold marked him as a warrior first and diplomat second.

”The messages arrived weeks ago. It was very specific and detailed.”

”Weeks ago,” Octavia repeated slowly, her mind racing.

Weeks ago, was right around the time.Jack disappeared. How had he sent correspondence to multiple noble houses without anyone at the estate knowing?

”Where,” she asked carefully, ”is Jack Kaiser now?”

The delegates exchanged glances. The House Dustspire representative, an older man who towered over Octavia stared intensely at Octavia as he spoke.

”The correspondence indicated he was handling urgent business but would return to coordinate our forces before the conflict began. We assumed he was here, preparing defenses.”

”He’s not,” Octavia said flatly. Then, realizing how that sounded, she added, ”He is finishing critical business and should be along shortly.”

It wasn’t entirely a lie. Jack would return. Probably.

”So we’ve arrived,” the Starfell emissary said with barely concealed disdain, ”assembled our forces, traveled for days, all on the word of an heir who isn’t even present to receive us?”

”You arrived,” Octavia countered, her voice sharp as a blade, ”because the intelligence Jack provided was compelling enough to warrant your presence. Unless you’re suggesting your houses commit troops to potentially fictional threats?”

That landed.

Several of the minor house representatives straightened, recognizing the trap. If they admitted the threat was real, they couldn’t complain about responding to it. If they claimed it was fictional, they looked foolish for bringing troops at all.

The House Mistfang representative, a quiet woman who’d remained silent until now, spoke with a voice that sounded like an angel.

”We did not come here to argue protocol or precedence,” she said softly. ”The intelligence your brother provided detailed an army of over ten thousand mercenaries marching toward Sorne. That is not a fictional threat.”

She looked at Octavia with eyes that seemed to see more than they should. ”We brought seven thousand troops among all our houses. Combined with Sorne’s garrison, we have perhaps eight thousand five hundred combat-ready soldiers. Against fifteen thousand professional killers.”

”Seven thousand troops,” Octavia repeated, the number settling into her mind like a stone. ”You brought seven thousand troops based on Jack’s correspondence.”

”We did,” the woman confirmed. ”Because the alternative was to ignore a credible threat and watch a neighboring territory fall. Which would inevitably mean our territories would be next.”

The pragmatism of the statement cut through the posturing immediately.

This wasn’t about honor or loyalty or noble alliances. This was about survival.

If Sorne fell, Marcus Thorne wouldn’t stop there.

Octavia took a breath, forcing herself to think like her brother would. What would Jack do in this situation?

He’d take command. He’d organize the chaos. He’d turn seven thousand disparate troops into something resembling a unified force.

But Jack wasn’t here.

So Octavia would have to do it herself.

”You’re welcome to enter,” she said, her voice carrying across the courtyard with newfound authority. ”We’ll have refreshments prepared while we discuss the situation in detail. Seraphina, please arrange accommodations for our guests and ensure their troops are properly supplied.”

Seraphina nodded once, the red mark on her cheek already fading as if it had never existed. ”Of course, my lady.”

”And you,” Octavia said, her gaze fixing on the Starfell emissary with the kind of look that promised future consequences, ”will accompany me personally. I believe we need to establish some ground rules about conduct within Kaiser territory.”

The man’s expression flickered with something that might have been concern, but he covered it quickly with aristocratic disdain. ”As you wish, Lady Octavia.”

The delegates began moving toward the estate entrance, servants appearing to guide them and take their weapons as per standard protocol for noble visits.

Celeste appeared at Octavia’s elbow, her voice dropping to a whisper. ”Seven thousand troops and Jack isn’t here. What are we going to do?”

”We’re going to pretend we know exactly what we’re doing,” Octavia whispered back. ”And pray Jack returns before they realize we’re improvising.”

”And if he doesn’t?”

Octavia’s expression hardened. ”Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

As the last of the delegates disappeared into the estate, Seraphina remained in the courtyard for a moment, her dark eyes fixed on the horizon as if searching for something only she could see.

’Young master,’ she thought, ’I hope whatever business you’re finishing is worth the chaos you’ve created. Because we’re about to be neck-deep in it, with or without you.’