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Alaric and company did not leave for the Capital City.
Not yet.
Marcus and Carlden stood before Alaric in a hut they had rented, parchments spread across the desk, family trees, marriage ties, forgotten alliances.
The wax candles burned low, dripping onto maps marked with crimson ink.
Carlden's voice was steady, "We started with the family the Dowager named House Varath. They were close to the throne two generations ago. When the Emperor's grandfather took power, Feraden lost much of their standing… but not all. They still hold land in the northern quarter, it seems. Wealth enough to move men quietly."
Marcus leaned forward, pointing at a scribbled note on the parchment.
"And their third son, Lord Venric, who changed his name has no official post. Yet he has influence in the guilds, especially among the black-market traders at the docks. That gives him reach outside the court, into the shadows."
