Lucavion gave a slow, quiet exhale through his nose. "Tch."
He brought the cup to his lips, sipping without urgency, his other hand reaching lazily toward the interface. The list unfolded before him—names that carried weight, names that carried blood, and names that carried nothing but ambition.
House Velhane.
The Lyrecrest Guild.
House Merridan of the Northern Obsidian March.
The Flamewright Enclave.
The Syrelith Consortium—now that was a name he hadn't heard in years.
And tucked among the formal entries, layered with respectful flattery: House Idrayne, one of the Crown Prince's inner circle.
Immediately beneath it—like a shadow cast by ambition—was House Silvelle. The First Princess's banner.
Lucavion sipped his tea again, not for the flavor, but the familiarity of the heat against his lips. 'So they're both casting lines already…'
He tapped a finger against the Resonance Conductor's rim, scanning without slowing.
Most of these names, he knew.
Not personally.
