Hexenzeit Mansion.
Ameriz had been afraid before.
She had been afraid when Kaspar's affinity ceremony ended.
She had been afraid when the report from Grenzheim arrived with his name among the missing.
Hagen telling them Kaspar had joined the Iron Cross had been another kind of fear.
None of it had felt like this.
Her hands rested in her lap beneath the long table. They would not stop trembling.
Ameriz curled her fingers together until the nails pressed into her palms.
Across the war room, Roderich stood with both hands braced against the map table. His red hair had come loose from its usual severe tie. Strands hung over his forehead. Ameriz had never seen him look like that.
The commanders stood before him in a line.
Four men.
All wore the crimson flame of House Hexenzeit on their collars. Their cloaks were still wet from the northern rain. Mud darkened the hems of their uniforms.
"The Iron Cross column forced its way through the outer cordon, Your Grace," the field commander said.
"They ignored repeated commands to halt. They damaged military equipment, endangered soldiers, and entered the command camp under arms."
Roderich's fingers pressed harder into the table.
Ameriz saw the wood bend slightly beneath them.
"And?" he asked.
The field commander swallowed.
"Kaspar von Hexenzeit declared himself Baron of Kaltbach."
No one spoke.
The commander continued carefully.
"He claimed that all forces stationed outside the settlement had entered his territory unlawfully. He ordered the entire expeditionary force to withdraw."
Roderich lifted his head.
"He ordered you."
"Yes, Your Grace."
"And you obeyed."
The commander's jaw tightened.
"Goldkrieger Iris of the Magical Army invoked Imperial garrison law. She asserted that Lord Kaspar's provisional authority superseded House Hexenzeit's operational mandate."
"Iris," Ameriz said.
The name slipped out before she could stop it.
Roderich's gaze shifted toward her.
Only for a second.
Ameriz lowered her eyes.
The commander mistook the silence for permission to continue.
"She refused her own orders, Your Grace. She sided with him before the full army. She made the matter impossible to contest without creating a legal record for the Imperial tribunal."
A small flame flickered above Roderich's right knuckle and curled around his hand. The room grew warmer.
"He came into our camp," Roderich said quietly. "With what force?"
"Fourteen personnel, Your Grace."
"Fourteen."
"Yes."
"And you had nearly a thousand House soldiers."
"Nine hundred, Your Grace. Plus the Regular Army detachment."
"Nine hundred soldiers," he repeated. "Against fourteen Iron Cross."
The field commander did not answer.
"You established a cordon around an armed town. You prepared an operation against an active revolt. You had the authority of my banner."
Roderich straightened slowly.
"And my discarded son drove into your camp in a magi-car and told you to leave."
The commander's face reddened.
"Your Grace, the situation was politically compromised. Wolkenmark scouts were believed to be observing from the northern ridge. The Iron Cross Knights were prepared to engage. The Goldkrieger had made the legal position—"
"Do not explain cowardice to me as though I am one of your clerks."
Roderich struck the table.
The sound cracked through the war room.
Fire erupted from his fist.
Flames climbed across the blackwood surface in branching lines. The maps scattered across the table curled at the edges. Ink blackened. A corner of the northern border chart caught fire and vanished in seconds.
The commanders flinched.
Ameriz kept still. Flinching made Roderich angrier.
Frost formed along the silver clasp at her throat. Tiny crystals crept beneath her collar, then melted before anyone could see them.
Roderich stared at the commanders.
"You allowed him to humiliate House Hexenzeit in front of the Regular Army."
"No, Your Grace," the hooked-nosed captain said quickly. "He humiliated the House himself. He insulted you by name. He called the soldiers trespassers. He said our banner meant nothing. He told the men to crawl back to—"
He hesitated.
Roderich's gaze turned toward him.
"To what?" he asked.
The captain's throat worked.
"He told the field commander to cry his complaints into your lap, Your Grace."
Silence.
Ameriz closed her eyes.
She knew the commanders' faces. She knew humiliation when she saw it. They had returned from Kaltbach needing someone else to blame.
So they embroidered the story.
And Roderich was past reasoning.
"I gave him a life and a name, and I let him stay under my roof after he made a spectacle of us before the entire Empire."
The flames around his fist brightened.
His voice rose.
"I let him live after he proved himself useless."
Ameriz's breath caught.
Hagen remained seated at the far end of the table, hands folded neatly before him. His expression had not changed since the commanders entered. Pale-gold hair dyed the proper Hexenzeit red framed his face. He looked composed.
Ameriz hated him for it.
If Kaspar died, Hagen's path became cleaner.
No more lesser nobles whispering that the true firstborn had returned.
No more questions about blood or succession.
Ameriz knew Hagen understood that.
She also knew he would never say it aloud.
Roderich's hand closed.
The flames condensed around his fingers.
"He has returned to plague this house at every turn," he said. "He could not simply disappear. He could not remain a failure in quiet obscurity. No. He had to crawl into Varen's service. He had to make himself a weapon for my enemies. He had to wave his white hair before the Empire and invite every rat in the court to ask whether House Hexenzeit cast aside the wrong son."
"Listen carefully," he told the commanders. "You will not forget this humiliation. You will remember every word he spoke. Every soldier who saw House Hexenzeit forced from that field will remember it as well."
The field commander bowed his head.
"Yes, Your Grace."
"You will pay for this failure in double effort. The next time the Iron Cross bastard places himself between House Hexenzeit and its objective, you will not stand down because he has a piece of paper and a new title."
Roderich stepped away from the map table.
The commanders stiffened as he crossed the war room.
He stopped in front of the field commander. The man had commanded nearly a thousand soldiers outside Kaltbach. Now he stood with his head bowed and his hands clenched at his sides.
Roderich caught him by the front of his wet uniform and hauled him upright.
The commander made a sound through his teeth.
"Look at me," Roderich said.
He did.
Roderich placed his burning hand against the commander's face.
The scream broke through the war room.
Flame crawled across skin. The commander jerked backward, but Roderich held him in place by the collar. The smell of burning flesh filled the room. One eye squeezed shut beneath Roderich's palm. The skin from cheekbone to jaw blackened, blistered, and cracked.
Ameriz's stomach turned.
Roderich held him there for three long seconds.
Then he released him.
The field commander dropped to one knee, clutching the ruined side of his face. Smoke curled between his fingers.
"This is the punishment for failing the banner of House Hexenzeit," Roderich said.
No one moved.
"No one in this army will mistake caution for honor again."
Ameriz went cold.
Roderich's fire flared again.
"Kaspar von Hexenzeit is dead to this house."
"Dead," Roderich repeated.
The flames wrapped around his wrists.
"If he acts again to dishonor our name or obstruct House operations, you will kill him."
The commanders did not move.
Roderich's eyes narrowed.
"You will not leave his death to chance. You will not wait for an accident, a monster, a collapsed tunnel, or some convenient confusion after battle." His voice became quieter. "You will kill him. That is your obligation to House Hexenzeit."
"Do you understand me?"
The field commander lifted his head.
One side of his face was raw and blackened. Blisters had already begun to rise along his cheek and jaw. His eye on that side watered uncontrollably, but he did not look away.
"Yes, Your Grace."
Ameriz's fingers closed painfully around each other.
Pressure built behind her eyes.
Ameriz could not breathe.
She stared at the ice forming around the edge of her chair arm.
No. Not here. Not now.
She pressed the frost back into herself until the wood was wet rather than frozen.
Roderich turned toward Hagen.
"You have been quiet."
Hagen rose from his chair.
"I am listening, Father."
"Do you disagree with my assessment?"
Hagen's face remained unreadable.
"I believe Kaspar has become politically dangerous," he said.
His eyes moved briefly toward the burned map on the table.
"He is dangerous because Varen has found a way to turn him into a symbol. The white-haired survivor who defeats enemies no one expects him to survive."
Roderich's expression remained hard.
Hagen continued.
"Every time Kaspar is publicly opposed, Varen can frame the opposition as old nobility trying to destroy the man it failed to understand. If Kaspar dies under suspicious circumstances, the Iron Cross will make him a martyr."
Ameriz looked at him.
For the first time since the commanders arrived, she saw something beneath Hagen's calm.
Roderich's fire dimmed slightly.
"So you propose we leave him alone."
"I propose we do not make him useful to Varen by killing him carelessly."
The words settled into the room.
The field commander's shoulders eased by a fraction, though the movement made his burned face tighten.
Ameriz did not allow herself relief.
Hagen looked directly at Roderich.
"Kaspar's title is provisional. Kaltbach is a town in revolt, filled with people who have reason to distrust any lord sent from the capital. Let him spend his money, his soldiers, and his reputation trying to make that place obey him."
At that, Roderich's eyes sharpened.
Hagen moved to the edge of the map table.
"The dungeon expedition remains our priority. All of it matters more than a provincial barony."
Ameriz's stomach tightened. She knew that tone. Hagen was steering him toward something he could control.
"The Academy continues to delay final authorization," Hagen said. "They claim the research personnel require additional preparation."
"They are stalling," Roderich said.
"Yes."
"On whose instruction?"
"Possibly Elara's people. Possibly Academy administrators protecting their own authority. It does not matter."
Hagen placed one hand on the table.
"We do not need to defeat them publicly. We need the signatures."
The hooked-nosed captain looked uncertainly between them.
"Master Hagen," he said, "the Academy's expedition approval requires the dean's office, the Department of Ancient Languages, the Department of Magical Safety, the funding council, and the release of the assigned research teams."
Hagen looked at him.
"Correct. It is five small issues."
Roderich's mouth shifted.
This time it was almost a smile.
"How do we fix it?" he asked.
"The funding council is simple. Two members hold debts connected to southern reconstruction loans. We acquire the debt instruments through intermediaries and offer them an easy way out."
"The Department of Magical Safety's senior clerk has a son in the Regular Army. The son's promotion file has been stalled for fourteen months. It can be unstalled."
"The Department of Ancient Languages requires access to the sealed Door because they want first claim over the inscriptions. We offer them a research allocation, publication credit, and controlled access to every artifact cataloged during the expedition."
"And the dean?" Roderich asked.
Hagen's expression did not change.
"The dean wants to remain dean."
"You have all of this prepared," Roderich said.
"I expected resistance," Hagen replied.
"From Elara?"
"From everyone."
Roderich's flames went out. Smoke curled from his hands.
"Do it," he said.
Hagen bowed his head.
"Yes, Father."
"But do not lose sight of the princesses and princes playing their little games," Roderich continued. "Elara thinks she can buy pieces from the board and call herself clever. She thinks one damaged boy and one poisoned border town will give her leverage over us."
His voice hardened.
"And Varen is worse. He sees a weapon in every wounded creature that crawls to his feet. He does not understand what we are building. He does not understand the scale of the work required to end this war properly."
The commanders straightened.
Roderich looked down at the ruined northern map.
"Kasimir understands. The war does not end with another trench gained or lost. It ends when the Sins are removed from this world."
Hagen nodded once.
"When Prince Kasimir moves," Roderich said, "the rest of them will not be in a position to object."