Chapter Two: The Hunter’s Interest
1631 Words
Lord Halveren looked like a man who had swallowed broken glass.
He sat stiffly in the center of his study, clutching a handkerchief that was already damp with sweat. His fine silk robe hung crooked on his shoulders, and the confident smile he had worn during the banquet earlier that evening had vanished completely.
Cassian Thorne stood across from him, silent, with so much in his mind to say.
The study was still a mess from the break-in. One window hung open to the cold night air, and the overturned drawer lay on the floor beside the desk.
Cassian’s gaze lingered on the empty space where the document had once rested.
“Tell me again,” he said calmly, “what was inside that case.”
Halveren dabbed his forehead.
“I already told you, Commander. Just old records. Nothing of value.”
Cassian’s expression didn’t change.
But the temperature in the room seemed to drop.
“Your guards sounded the city alarms,” Cassian said. “Half the royal watch is searching the rooftops.”
Halveren forced a weak smile.
“Well… one can never be too careful.”
Cassian stepped closer.
The noble shifted in his chair.
“You panicked over a thief,” Cassian continued, voice quiet. “A thief who took something you claim is worthless.”
Halveren swallowed.
“I simply wanted it recovered.”
Cassian leaned one hand on the desk.
“Lord Halveren,” he said softly, “I have spent fifteen years protecting this city. I know the difference between panic and guilt.”
The noble’s fingers tightened around the handkerchief, almost visibly shaking uncontrollably.
“Commander”
“What was in the case?”
Halveren hesitated.
Cassian straightened slowly.
“If I have to ask again,” he said, “this conversation will become significantly less pleasant.”
For a long moment, the only sound in the room was the distant ringing of bells across the capital.
Finally, Halveren exhaled heavily.
“It was a lineage record.” He eventually let out with regret written all over him.
Cassian stilled.
“What kind of lineage record?”
The noble avoided his eyes as if eye contacts will give him away with ease.
“Royal succession.”
Cassian’s jaw tightened.
“That archive was purged twenty years ago.”
“Yes.”
“And the surviving documents were ordered destroyed.”
“Yes.”
Cassian’s gaze sharpened.
“So why,” he asked quietly, “was one hidden in your private desk?”. “What makes this one special?”
Halveren’s composure cracked as he could not keep up appearance.
“You don’t understand!” he blurted.
Cassian didn’t respond.
The noble leaned forward desperately.
“That document should never have existed. It was supposed to be burned with the others.”
“Yet it wasn’t.”
Halveren’s voice dropped.
“It was insurance.”
Cassian’s eyes darkened.
“Insurance against what?”
The noble hesitated again.
Then he whispered,
“Against the possibility that someone might still claim the throne.”
The words settled heavily in the room.
Cassian felt a cold realization creep through his chest, his spine and all round his being in seconds.
“The m******e,” he said slowly. “You believe it failed.”
Halveren laughed nervously.
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
Cassian turned toward the window, staring out over the moonlit rooftops of the capital.
Somewhere out there, a thief was running through the shadows with the one document that could unravel everything.
And she had no idea what she carried.
Halveren spoke again, voice trembling.
“You must retrieve it.”
Cassian glanced back.
“Why?” “Why does it have to be retrieved”
“Because if the wrong people learn that record still exists…”
His voice broke again, becoming very unsteady this time.
“They will assume the heir survived.”
Cassian’s gaze hardened.
“And if they did?”
Halveren paled.
“That’s impossible.”
Cassian said nothing.
But the image of the thief flashed across his mind.
Dark hair.
Sharp eyes.
And a face that stirred an unsettling sense of familiarity.
He had only seen the former queen once, years ago.
But the resemblance had been unmistakable.
Cassian turned toward the door.
“Seal the house,” he said.
Halveren blinked.
“You’re leaving?”
Cassian paused.
“Yes.”
“Where are you going?”
Cassian stepped into the hallway.
“To find the thief.” He went of out sight, with one thing in mind. To find her, just as he had declared.
The lower quarter of Virellia never slept.
Even in the deepest hours of the night, the narrow streets buzzed with quiet activity. Lanterns flickered above crooked doorways, and the smell of smoke and cheap ale drifted through the air.
Liora moved through the alleyways like a shadow.
She didn’t stop running until the sound of the bells faded behind her.
Only then did she slip through a broken door at the back of a crumbling apartment building.
Her hideout was on the top floor, where no one could reach her at least, she thought to herself.
Three flights of narrow stairs later, she pushed open the door to a small room lit by a single candle.
The moment it closed behind her, Liora leaned against it and exhaled.
“That,” she muttered, “was unpleasant.” “That was very close, too”.
She crossed the room and dropped her satchel onto the table.
Then she pulled out the black case.
For several seconds she just stared at it.
“So,” she said quietly, “what makes you worth an army?”. She thought aloud.
The wax seal was already cracked from the chase.
Liora slid a knife beneath the lid and pried it open.
Inside lay a folded parchment.
Nothing more.
She frowned.
“That’s it?”
Carefully, she unfolded the document.
Rows of elegant handwriting filled the page.
Names.
Dates.
Titles.
Her brow furrowed and raised a bit, at the same time.
“Royal succession”
It looked like an official record of the Virellian royal family.
Liora skimmed the list impatiently.
Kings.
Queens.
Princes.
Princesses.
Most of the names were unfamiliar.
She almost folded it back up.
Then something caught her eye and her attention.
Halfway down the page.
A name she knew.
Liora Vale.
Her breath stopped.
She stared at the parchment.
The name was written in elegant ink beside a single note.
Daughter of Elara Vale.
Her mother’s name.
Liora blinked slowly.
“That’s strange, very strange.”
She had never known much about her mother.
Only that she had died when Liora was young.
But why would her name appear on a royal record?
Liora shook her head in disbelief. Only one thing is possible here and that is the ‘coincidence’
“It’s probably a coincidence.”
Still. As still as the waters.
The feeling in her chest refused to settle.
She folded the document carefully.
“Not my problem,” she decided.
Her client would want the record.
And the sooner she got paid, the sooner she could leave the city. Probably, leave for good without even looking back.
Liora turned toward the window.
Then froze.
Someone stood in the shadows across the room.
Her knife was in her hand before she could think.
Cassian Thorne stepped into the candlelight.
“You’re quick,” he said calmly.
Liora’s heart slammed against her ribs.
“How did you find me?”
“Luck.”
She didn’t believe that for a second.
Her knife remained steady.
“You came alone.”
“Yes.”
“That’s either very brave,” she said, “or very stupid.”
Cassian studied her face.
Up close, the resemblance struck him even harder.
The same eyes.
The same bone structure.
The same presence the queen had carried before her death.
His chest tightened.
“Where did you get the document?” he asked.
Liora smiled thinly.
“Trade secret.”
“You stole it from Lord Halveren.”
“I stole it for someone else.”
Cassian’s gaze sharpened.
“Who?”
“Also a trade secret.”
For a moment they simply stared at each other.
Then Cassian said quietly,
“You opened it.”
Liora hesitated.
“Maybe.”
“And?”
She shrugged.
“Looks like a very boring family tree.”
Cassian watched her carefully.
“You noticed the name.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“You’ve seen it too.”
“Yes.”
Liora crossed her arms.
“So, explain it.”
Cassian didn’t answer immediately.
Instead he studied her face again, trying to unravel what it holds beneath the expressionless outlook she was struggling to keep display.
The resemblance was undeniable.
Too precise to be ignored.
He felt something unsettling settle in his chest.
“Liora,” he said slowly, “you have no idea what you're carrying, do you?”
Her expression hardened.
“Then explain it.”
Cassian’s voice dropped.
“If the wrong people find out you have that document….”
His eyes flicked toward the door.
“You’ll be dead before sunrise.”
Liora scoffed.
“Dramatic.”
But then
Footsteps echoed from the stairwell.
Heavy.
Armed.
Cassian’s expression darkened.
“That didn’t take long.”
Liora turned toward the door.
“How many?”
“Enough. Just enough.”
The footsteps stopped outside the apartment.
Armor shifted.
Someone spoke in a low voice.
Cassian stepped closer to her.
“And they’re not my men.”
Liora’s pulse quickened.
“Then whose men are they?”
Cassian drew his sword slowly.
And whispered, yet again.
“And they're already here.”
- Writer
