Lord Aldrin sat in his private study, his fingers tapping impatiently against the polished wooden desk. His face was cold, but his mind was racing. The events of the previous night had been disastrous. If left unchecked, rumors could spread like wildfire, tainting the Solea name.
He called upon his most trusted aides—Master Veyric, the head steward of the Solea household, and Commander Jareth, the captain of the family's private guards. The two men stood before him, awaiting his orders.
Aldrin's voice was measured but firm. "What happened last night must remain within these walls. I will not have my daughter's name dragged through the mud because of some foolish affair with a Hollowborn."
Veyric bowed slightly. "My lord, there have already been whispers among the servants. Some claim that Lady Elvienne caused an uproar. Others say she was seen in distress."
Aldrin's fingers curled into a fist. "See to it that they forget. Double their wages if you must. Any who spread unnecessary chatter—dismiss them immediately."
Jareth smirked. "As for the townspeople, a little 'persuasion' should do the trick. A well-placed rumor can bury another."
Aldrin nodded. "Make it known that the lady of the Solea family is merely unwell due to fatigue. As for the man…" His expression darkened. "If anyone speaks of him, make them regret it."
Veyric hesitated for a moment. "And Lady Elvienne, my lord? She has refused to eat. The maids say she barely speaks."
Aldrin exhaled slowly, his expression softening for a brief moment. "She will understand in time. For now, she remains in her quarters."
He leaned forward, his sharp gaze settling on them. "I will personally handle the matter of her future. For now, ensure that no word of this reaches beyond these walls."
Both men bowed. "As you command, my lord."
As they left to carry out his orders, Aldrin leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes for a brief moment. This was for Elvienne's own good. One day, she would thank him for it.
-----
Zehron's limp body was tossed onto the rough wooden floor with a dull thud. He groaned, pain searing through his already bruised body. His mother, Naevira, gasped in horror, rushing to him with shaking hands.
"Zehron!" she cried, kneeling beside him. Her fingers trembled as she brushed his sweat-streaked hair away from his face. His once-vibrant green eyes were dull, his breathing ragged. "What have they done to you?"
Zehron, despite the pain. "Not… much," he muttered hoarsely, lips cracking from dryness and blood.
Before Naevira could respond, a loud, furious voice boomed through the small house.
"What is the meaning of this?!"
Vaedros, his father, stormed toward the guards, grabbing one of them by the collar. His grip was tight, knuckles turning white with rage. The guard struggled but didn't dare fight back—not against a man like Vaedros, who, despite his aging years, still carried the strength of a warrior.
"You dare lay hands on my son?" Vaedros growled, shaking the man violently. "Who gave you the right to treat him like this?!"
The other guard, shifting uneasily, cleared his throat. "We followed orders. Lord Aldrin demanded he be punished—"
"Punished for what? For daring to breathe in the same air as his daughter? For merely existing?" Vaedros spat, shoving the man away. The guard stumbled but quickly regained his balance.
Naevira stiffened at those words. Aldrin. The name sent a chill down her spine. When they first learned that Zehron had been seeing a girl, they thought little of it. But after whispers reached them about who she was—Elvienne Solea, daughter of Lord Aldrin himself—the truth had struck them like a storm. A noblewoman… a Highborn… with their son, a Hollowborn.
"We only did as we were told," the second guard muttered. "You should be grateful we didn't kill him."
Naevira flinched at those words. Vaedros clenched his fists, but before he could retaliate, Zehron, still sprawled on the floor, spoke weakly.
"Father… it's fine."
Vaedros turned sharply. "Fine?! You call this fine?"
Zehron: "I'm alive" breathing heavily as though he could lose consciousness at any moment.
Naevira's eyes filled with tears as she carefully cradled his head in her lap. "This isn't right," she whispered. "You shouldn't have to suffer like this."
The guards, sensing that their job was done, gave a brief nod and exited the house. As soon as the door shut behind them, Vaedros exhaled sharply, his fury barely contained.
"we must do something about this," he said firmly.
Zehron, despite the pain, only closed his eyes. He knew his father's anger wouldn't change anything.
Not yet.