"You absolute cretin!"
The middle-aged man didn’t slap him. Instead, he clenched his hand into a fist and lowered it slowly, his knuckles turning white from the restraint. The aura around him flared erratically, heating the damp air of the chamber. If only he weren’t his brother’s son, or if he were the family head, he would have reduced this trash of the family to ashes way long, long ago.
"You will ruin this family sooner or later with that peanut-sized brain of yours!" he roared, his voice echoing off the stone walls. "Do you think this is some playground game? Do you think you can just snatch people off the streets because your fragile ego was bruised?"
Ronald flinched at the volume but didn’t back down completely.
He lowered his head, biting his lip. His eyes, hidden by his bangs, burned with a mix of humiliation and stubborn resentment. He couldn’t understand why his uncle was making such a big deal out of this.
"Why shouldn’t I?" Ronald muttered, his voice trembling with suppressed anger.
"What did you say?" The uncle’s eyes narrowed dangerously.
Ronald looked up, his expression twisting into a scowl.
"I said, why shouldn’t I?!" he shouted back, gesturing wildly at the woman. "She’s just a merchant! A commoner who got lucky with some investments! We are the Fenni Family! We are nobles of the Empire! Why should we bow our heads and ask nicely for a share of the trade route when we can just take it?"
He took a step forward, his fear momentarily replaced by indignation.
"She dared to reject our offer, Uncle! She looked down on us! If we let a mere merchant walk all over us, we’ll become the laughingstock of the capital! I didn’t do anything wrong. I just showed her her place!"
The uncle stared at his nephew, his mouth slightly ajar. The sheer stupidity displayed before him left him momentarily speechless.
"You..." The uncle rubbed his temples, feeling a migraine coming on. "You truly are hopeless."
He pointed a shaking finger at the woman.
"Do you know who she is? Do you really think she is just a ’lucky commoner’?"
"Isn’t she?" Ronald scoffed. "Cassandra. The owner of the Legacy Emporium. Just a woman with too much coin and no backing."
"No backing?" The uncle laughed, a dry, humorless sound. "You fool. Did you not investigate her background before pulling this stunt? Did you not wonder why no other noble house has tried to swallow her business despite its rapid growth?"
Ronald paused, a flicker of doubt crossing his face. "B-Because they are cowards?"
"Because they are smart!" the uncle barked. "She is from the Virellia Family! The famous Duke household from the Valtheim Kingdom!"
Ronald blinked, processing the information. Then, his scowl returned, accompanied by a scoff of disbelief.
"S-So what?" He waved his hand dismissively. "That’s a vassal kingdom. We are in the heart of the Ardentis Empire. Their title holds no sway here. What are they going to do? Send an army across the border for one runaway daughter?"
The uncle closed his eyes. He took a deep, trembling breath, fighting the urge to beat his nephew to death right then and there.
"You short-sighted fool," he whispered, the aura around his fists flickering dangerously. "Diplomatic immunity... International relations... Do these words mean nothing to you?"
He opened his eyes, glaring at Ronald with an intensity that finally made the young man shrink back.
"Besides," the uncle added, his voice dropping to a terrifyingly quiet whisper. "If the foreign threat isn’t enough for you, there are rumors that the Crown Prince is paying attention to her as well."
The color drained from Ronald’s face instantly.
"You should know what that means, at least, right?"
Ronald’s knees knocked together. The arrogance that had shielded him moments ago evaporated like mist under the sun.
"W-What?!" he stammered, his voice cracking. "T-The Crown Prince?! Why would he care about a merchant?"
"I don’t know!" the uncle roared, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "And that is exactly why we didn’t touch her! Because when royalty takes an interest, you stay away unless you want your entire bloodline erased!"
He paced back and forth, muttering curses under his breath.
"But now... thanks to you, we have kidnapped the person His Highness is watching. We have tied her up in our secret chamber."
He stopped and looked at Ronald with dead eyes.
"If word gets out, it won’t be a trade deal we’re signing. It will be our death warrants!"
Ronald slumped against the wall, sliding down until he hit the floor. "I... I didn’t..."
"Shut up. Just shut up."
The uncle turned back to the captives.
Cassandra was watching them. She hadn’t said a word, but her sapphire eyes were sharp, dissecting their conversation, calculating their fear. She didn’t look like a victim at all. She looked like a predator waiting for the cage door to open.
"We have to fix this," the uncle muttered, sweat beading on his forehead. "We can’t let them go. She knows too much now. She knows it was the Fenni family."
"T-Then we kill them?" Ronald whispered from the floor, desperation creeping into his tone. "If we bury them deep enough..."
"Idiot!" The uncle hissed. "If she really is being watched by the Crown Prince’s shadows, do you think we can hide the bodies? We need a plan. A way to make this look like an accident, or..."
"Or perhaps you should just untie us and beg for mercy."
The voice was calm, melodic, and terrifyingly composed.
It was Cassandra.
She tilted her head slightly, her gaze locking onto the uncle.
"You seem like a rational man, unlike your nephew," she said, her tone sounding like she was discussing the weather rather than her own kidnapping. "So I will give you a piece of advice: release us right now. And prepare a compensation package by the time the festival ends. If I am satisfied with the amount, I might be inclined to forget this... lapse in judgment. But if I am not, then you better say goodbye to your reputation and your business."
There was a beat of silence.
Ronald looked at his uncle, hope flickering in his eyes. He wanted to take the deal. He wanted out of this mess.
But the uncle’s expression didn’t soften. Instead, a low, rasping chuckle escaped his lips.
"Heh."
He shook his head, looking at Cassandra with a mix of pity and amusement.
"Don’t get ahead of yourself, woman."
He took a slow step forward, the floorboards creaking under his weight.
"While I admit you are braver and smarter than most, you aren’t smart enough to manipulate me. Do you take me for a novice? If I release you now, you will destroy us the moment you step out that door. Your ’word’ means nothing when your pride is wounded."
He stopped right in front of her, leaning down so his face was level with hers.
"Besides," he whispered, a cruel glint entering his eyes. "It is not entirely impossible to make you die without implicating us. In fact, an idea just came to me."
He straightened up, pacing slowly around her chair.
"What if... you were found in a compromising position?" he mused aloud. "Let’s say, in bed with a married man? Perhaps a local drunkard or a guard we pay off."
Cassandra’s expression didn’t waver, but her eyes narrowed slightly.
"And then," the uncle continued, gesturing with his hands as if painting a picture, "what if his jealous wife ’discovered’ the affair? In a fit of uncontrollable rage, she kills the adulterous pair—you and her husband—and then, overcome with grief, takes her own life?"
He turned back to Cassandra, grinning widely.
"A crime of passion. A tragic, scandalous end for the ’upstart merchant’. The Crown Prince would never investigate a woman who died in such disgrace. The Virellia family would be too ashamed to claim you."
He leaned in close again, his voice dropping to a sinister hiss.
"It solves all my problems. And it is a very... clean story, don’t you think?"