Page 99 of Smoke, Mirrors, & Misdemeanours

But first, he had a demon to visit. And a message to deliver.

The lift doors hissed open, revealing the white marble gleam of Agmon Group’s top floor. The Sanguine receptionist—a young male with the pale, polished look of carved alabaster—jumped to his feet. A flicker of fear crossed his features and he opened his mouth. Ark passed without acknowledgement.

Alderrath’s office door was already ajar. Of course. The spider waited in the centre of its web.

He stepped inside without knocking.

The room was flooded with morning light—a deliberate show of power, no doubt. Alderrath stood silhouetted against the panoramic window, the sun haloing his silver hair to almost white. He turned, and the light seemed to cling to him, amplifying his presence. He looked like a classical statue brought to life—flawless, strong, and cold.

He had the tell-tale aura of a Sanguine Demon in its prime, metabolizing sunlight. Ark understood their kind all too well. Solar-powered, they drew their strength from the light, the catalyst allowing them to process marrow into their own refined power.

“Arkenoth,” he drawled. He gestured to the light-drenched room. “I trust you appreciate the view. So few of your kind dare to visit during the day.”

“I’m not here for the scenery.” Inside, his Nocturne essence stirred, the pressure in his skull increasing. He could tell immediately that the office’s floor-to-ceiling windows were magically enchanted to intensify the light. Sometimes, on a hot summer day, light would cause him mild irritation. But this throbbing ache was unnatural.

Alderrath’s smile was a thing of perfect condescension. “A shame. The light reveals so much.”

Ark didn’t move from the threshold of shadow he occupied. “You sent a Construct to Cassia’s bakery.”

A flicker in Alderrath’s eyes—the deep, translucent crimson of aged wine. Then, cool denial. “I have no idea what you mean.”

“Don’t insult us both. It had your family’s sigil burned into its core.”

Alderrath leaned against his desk of imported bloodwood and shrugged. “And?”

“It wasn’t just a random building you targeted. That bakery is the legacy of a woman who fought for every crumb she ever had. It holds Cassia’s mother’s magic, and you sought to reduce it to dust. To erase her mother’s life’s work just to score a point against me.”

Alderrath leaned across the desk, voice dropped to a venomous whisper. “You’re the one who decided to involve Miss Aura in our politics. If she gets hurt, whose fault will it be? Mine, for pressing where it hurts? Or yours, for throwing her in front of the knife?”

Ark held his ground. “What is it about Starlight Orphanage you want so much?”

Alderrath’s eyes flickered—a brief crack in the composure—before he smiled. “The land is prime. The location is convenient. Why would I need another reason?”

“Because you’ve never cared so much about any land before. Not like this.”

Alderrath’s smile didn’t waver. “Perhaps it’s because you’ve revealed your weakness, Arkenoth. Your interest in that half-witch has made Starlight a wonderful leverage, and I intend to use it.”

Ark studied him a moment longer. Prime land, convenient location—all valid reasons. But it couldn’t be that simple. Alderrath had always wanted one thing: power, especially the kind that couldn’t be bought. And Starlight had something inside it that made him want it badly enough to tear through legalities and threats.

He’d had his suspicion for days now, but he couldn’t risk revealing it too early and alarming the Sanguine. Not yet.

He pressed, “Name a price, or a property. I’ll give you one. Today. I have dozens of idle estates, half of them better suited to redevelopment than Starlight.”

Alderrath scoffed. “So generous. And so naive.”

“I’m offering better alternatives. You should swallow your pride and take them.”

“You’re offering scraps you don’t want! You don’t even need to bargain—you were born far above this. Yet you choose to scrape at the edges like one of them.” He paused, then added, “Like your friends—a bastard half-breed and an elf from a family who’d sell off their own children for a better name.” Alderrath shook his head, an almost rueful smile on his lips. “I suppose an Untethered half-witch and a band of orphaned mutts fit your village perfectly.”

The temptation to unleash the shadows became a physical ache. To show Alderrath the true meaning of dissolution. But Cassia’s face, steady and sure, surfaced in the storm.

Be careful, be careful.

He forced the darkness down, re-caging it. The effort left him cold and shaking.

“Aura Cassia and Starlight Orphanage are reminders that not everything worth protecting comes with a pedigree,” he said quietly.

Alderrath’s eyes narrowed. “So you’d fight for those Untethereds, but not your own kind? Do you know how insulting that is? To watch the heir of Varil waste what the rest of us are bleeding for—and not even for a demon, but a half-witch?”