SSS Talent: From Trash to Tyrant

”Because that is the part of the story that can still ruin us.”

The words hung in the room long enough to stain the air.

Alfons kept his eyes on Roderic, even as every instinct told him to lower them. His father had handed out the task, the targets, the threat, and the punishment waiting at the end. And the center of it was missing.

Esmond.

A man kept beneath House Vaelion for almost a century. A renowned alchemist. Someone who had opened their bloodline on a table and lived long enough for it to turn useful instead of unforgivable.

And Roderic expected him to walk back to the Academy and watch Selara and Trafalgar without knowing the one thing that could destroy them all.

”Then I should know it,” Alfons said.

Aurelia’s eyes moved to him at once. Elysette’s hand paused over the edge of her glove. Lucard, for once, did not look entertained.

Roderic gave him nothing but that stare.

Alfons made himself go on. ”If I am the one watching Selara and the Morgain boy, I need to know what I am watching for. Esmond’s name, the homunculus, old records, Vaelion alchemy. That is a list, Father. It is not an answer.”

Adrien watched from the window and did not interrupt, which Alfons took as either quiet approval or the family habit of letting someone else bleed first.

Roderic’s voice stayed even. ”You know enough to do your part.”

”Enough to obey, perhaps.”

”Alfons.” Aurelia’s expression hardened.

He did not look at her. ”He can ruin us, you said. I would like to understand how, since I am apparently old enough now to be sent near the people who might know.”

Noelia looked up from beside Marielle. She was afraid, and under the fear Alfons caught the same question burning in her face. That made him feel worse, not better.

Roderic leaned back into his chair, wearing that polished patience that made everyone in the room start counting the cost of a single sentence.

”I am preparing something,” he said. ”When it is ready, those who need the whole truth will have it.”

Alfons’s jaw tightened. ”And in the meantime?”

”In the meantime, you do your part, and you stop mistaking curiosity for authority.”

Lucard let out a soft, amused breath. ”That one was deserved.”

Alfons threw him a look, and Lucard raised a hand in mock surrender.

Roderic did not bother with either of them. ”You asked the right question. That does not mean you have earned the whole answer.”

It stung more than Alfons wanted it to, because it was not refusal. It was measurement. His father had watched him reach the correct point and decided he had not reached far enough.

A fine feeling. Nothing warmed a man quite like being handled as a promising tool with poor manners.

Roderic went on. ”For this to work, each of you holds your place. Adrien moves through the routes and the escorts. Elysette follows the coin and the contracts. Lucard listens where men think laughter keeps them safe. Elowen opens the older records. Alfons goes back to the Academy.”

”And Noelia?” Alfons asked, before he could stop himself.

Noelia blinked. Marielle’s fingers brushed her daughter’s sleeve.

Roderic looked toward his youngest. ”Noelia listens. For tonight, that is already more than she carried into this room.”

Noelia lowered her eyes, but she did not fold the way Alfons expected. Good for her. Small victories were a sad currency, but in this house they had to buy something.

Roderic’s attention came back to him. ”You watch Selara without letting her feel watched. You stay close to Trafalgar du Morgain without handing him a reason to push back. You listen for Esmond, for the homunculus, for the Aurevane records, and for any student or instructor who suddenly grows curious about old Vaelion work.”

Alfons’s mouth tightened. ”And if Trafalgar starts asking questions?”

”You answer none of them.”

”He is not a fool.”

”I know that.”

It irritated him more than it had any right to.

Lucard’s mouth curved again. ”Listen to that. Father holds your favorite Morgain in higher regard than you manage to.”

Alfons did not bite this time. The memory of the crimson-gold octagon hanging over his skull helped with that. Irritating, how well it worked.

Roderic caught the restraint. His face barely shifted, but the judgment moved through his eyes, and he tipped his head a fraction.

Alfons hated that the small motion nearly pleased him.

He lowered his head. ”I will do my part, Father.”

”Properly.”

”I will do my part properly.”

”See that you do.”

The room understood the meeting was ending before Roderic put it into words. Adrien had already half turned toward the door. Elysette smoothed a glove with the light touch of a woman sorting tomorrow’s victims in her head. Elowen set her untouched cup by the fire. Lucard stretched as though the evening had bored him, bold for a man who had nearly been pinned under his father’s spell like an insect on a board.

Roderic rose. ”This meeting is over.”

Chairs shifted. Fabric whispered. The family began to move.

Aurelia passed Alfons without another glance. Celiane gave him a small smile that made him trust the corridor less than the room he was leaving. Marielle steered Noelia toward the door, and the youngest looked back once. Alfons met her eyes. Neither of them said a word.

Lucard came last, drifting near enough to murmur, ”Try not to bark at the Academy.”

Alfons kept his eyes on the door. ”Try being useful before Father notices the difference.”

Lucard laughed under his breath. ”There he is.” He was gone before Alfons could answer.

Soon it was only Roderic, Alfons, and the cooling weight of the room.

Alfons turned to leave.

”Alfons.”

He stopped at once. ”Yes, Father?”

Roderic stood beside his chair, the crimson lines of his robe catching the low light. ”You have a visitor waiting in your room.”

Alfons frowned. ”A visitor?”

”A particular one. She arrived several days ago, with her mother. Lady Lysaria au Nocthar.”

The name cut straight through his irritation.

Nocthar.

The Great Family of vampires did not walk into another Great Family’s seat for idle conversation, least of all a matriarch with her daughter at her side, and never while House Vaelion was hauling old secrets out of locked rooms.

Roderic watched the understanding crawl across his face.

”Her daughter,” he said. ”Selendra au Nocthar.”

Alfons did not move.

Roderic’s voice stayed calm.

”She has waited long enough. Go and see her.”

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