Duke Raine's supported walk through the garden splits the calmed crowd apart. Like a sword parting the soul from body, the crowd give way and dare not look up. Knowing the mood within the duke, knowing his capability and cunning, nobody wants to join the Wheys in offending him.
The silent indiscretion of the Raines, contrast the visible hardiness of the Whyes, all except Ashton. The stiff air in the garden surrounding the ducal family, parallel the free and warm air around the county family.
Countess Emily, hiding her proud smile behind her hand fan as her daughters throw their arms around her son.
"Brother, brother! That was incredible!" Janet, the most animated of the three siblings, "You appeared like lightning and struck like thunder! Those pigs from the duchy were unable to resist." Pumping her fist in the air, her words catch up to the retreating duke.
"Now, now Janet, you must calm yourself." Charlotte, tapping her sister on the head then turning to Ashton "Thank you little brother. Heir duke was hitting on me the whole walk, until you arrived. I was afraid mother was going to draw her sword." Holding her skirt in each hand at her side, a curtsey that brings life back into the party.
"No problem, no problem." Ashton calculating the look on Isebell's face before her departure. A smile authentic, warm and seducing. "At least within the south west of this country, nobody can hold their head above ours."
[That look... wasn't bad] Still looking back on the brief smile of his betrothed.
While the count was pleased to see his family getting along, relishing in Ashton's actions, he forces his pride deep down. Raising his hand in summoning, a mage in an enchanted cloak appears.
"Secure every road," He orders, with his eyes honed on the narrow back of Duke Raine. "The duke will not use a travel gate within our county, lace our men within every road to another. Approach unidentified persons coming in with caution, meet resistance with lethal force."
[Should he make a move before returning home... well it's just a precaution]
Before the count had the chance to catch up with his family, Ashton had already left in haste, the subject of both admiration and scrutiny among the guests. Reaching the colosseum and his training room, he pushed aside everything that had just happened and focused solely on what came next.
The trial he now faces is no longer one to prove his right as a young count, it is a fight for survival. Ashton has knocked down a domino that will only continue to echo. He made his voice clear, he had spoken as the leading head of a region. How he spends his time within the colosseum will dictate how the empire will treat his territory, and how the duchy will respond.
Locked away within his training room, Ashton was within himself, imagining the coming fight. The hallway outside lined in knights and mages, thinking of every variable, any possible deviation in his plan, Isebell's smile interrupts his focus.
Was she complicit in her father's strategy, or was she impressed with his defiance?
His focus became blurred as her image filled his mind, not with longing or attraction, but curiosity. Nonetheless, it was destabilizing.
While his mind was wandering, a knock on his cold iron door separating the world from his peace, interrupts his thoughts.
"Master Ashton," Chamberlain Olafs steady voice "May I enter?"
Above the meeting of master and servant, guests filled the wide ballroom within the colosseum. They took their seats at circular tables as maids and butlers served luxurious meals.
Fresh lobster, caught along the coast of the Wheys' vassal barony. Premium meats imported from neighboring countries. Handmade pasta paired with vegetables grown in the count's own garden. Desserts stacked high on a side table, alongside flowing wine and fresh water to wash it all down.
The banquet was less noble and more royal in scale, the atmosphere was festive and relaxed. The entertainment of jesters and musicians, ease the heightened nerves of the guests. The absence of the ducal family, and Ashton himself had drained the stakes in the air.
The count seated atop a small flight of stairs, on a landing with his wife on his right and daughters on his left. His elevated position, symbolic of his importance, gave him total dominion of the ball room. His guest who must look up to address him, climb steps with permission to toast him. The superior vantage over nobles and dignitaries alike, only reinforces his families growing influence in the minds of everyone present.
While the count and his family were hosting many people, the duke and his kin sat among themselves in their private booth. The comfort of the booth, meant for their speciation of Ashtons trial, was now their families meeting room. His absence from the banquet was not retreat or defeat, it was calculated repositioning. He was not there to eat or party anyways, he was there to see his investment.
His presence was meant to be one of dignity, but it became undignified at the hands of his son.
Placing a sphere without imperfection on the table, Isebell steps forward and douses the pearl like material in mana. Her mana and sphere react, creating a veil inside of their booth. A barrier meant to keep sound within its radius, anti-spying measures. Duke Raine, like a volcano of rage that was ready to burst, became still after the barriers activation.
"Son," He opens with unapproving and cold tone. "Was it I that failed you, or have you failed me?"
His question rhetorical and cutting cause Aaron to speak out in warm sadness, "Father, I-"
"Quiet," Demanding with his eyes wide and deep with hostility. "You are a grown man, yet you are full of lust, no different from the bulls in a barn. I had thought time would straighten you out. It was my own foolishness that allowed your weakness to become this... catalyst."
Aaron bit down hard, the veins in his forehead pressing against the surface of his skin, unable to rebuke his fathers words and unwilling to absorb them.
"Go," The duke continues. "Stand guard amongst our men, if you wander away do not come back."
Now gripping his fist in tight, silent hatred, he bows "Understood." Hesitance heard in his response, but he did as told and exited the booth.
"And you," Looking over his right shoulder at Isebell who was standing behind him. "What was that earlier? You apologized, fine. But to bow to people born lower than yourself..."
"Father don't be upset with me, the confrontation in the garden was not in our favor. Ashton Whey would not back down, he had all our knight suppressed on his own, half of the forces we brought. Knowing you father, you wouldn't have backed down either. Me bowing to the man I am engaged to, isn't unbecoming at all. Unlike being continuously defied."
Isebell's words cause the dukes eyes to widen in unreadable emotion, "Oops, I didn't mean your reaction was unbecoming father..." Isebell responds to the look.
Studying her, "You like him, don't you?" Duke Raine deduces, knowing his daughters tells.
"Hm hm," Chucking at the question. "Of course."