As the night wore on, Marcus began to make his presence more visible among the nobles and dignitaries of El Gran. His movements were fluid, graceful, as though he was dancing rather than merely walking through the hall. The way he navigated the crowd was mesmerizing, his tall figure commanding attention wherever he went. His aura exuded a quiet but undeniable power, and his eyes gleamed with something that could be mistaken for mischief—though in truth, it was far more calculated than that.
Marcus had learned to enjoy these gatherings over centuries, to use charm as his weapon, weaving his way into conversations as effortlessly as a breeze passing through open windows. Tonight was no different.
He approached a group of nobles who were engaged in quiet conversation, their words hushed but curious as they watched him. As he neared, the group naturally made room for him, intrigued by his presence.
“Ah, gentlemen,” Marcus greeted smoothly, his voice like velvet, laced with an undercurrent of power. “I hope I am not interrupting anything too important. I simply couldn’t resist joining in on such fine company.”
The nobles exchanged glances, clearly flattered by his attention. One of them, a tall, slender man with a silver beard and elaborate attire, offered a warm smile. “Lord Marcus, your presence is never an interruption. In fact, we were just speaking of the future of El Gran, and how it might align with the ambitions of Espada. Surely, a man of your wisdom would have insights to share.”
Marcus smiled, stepping closer, his gaze sweeping over the group with an almost playful glint. “The future of El Gran is a fascinating subject, is it not? A city as magnificent as this… with so much potential. And yet, I find myself wondering how one manages such greatness. Surely, the burden of maintaining power and stability in a world so full of… unpredictable forces must be quite heavy.”
The silver-bearded man chuckled softly, nodding in agreement. “Indeed, it is a constant challenge. But we have strong leadership, and His Majesty, King Rael, is a wise ruler. He knows how to navigate the waters of diplomacy, as you can see from this evening’s event. He values peace above all.”
“Peace,” Marcus repeated, the word rolling off his tongue with a hint of amusement. “A noble goal, of course. But peace, as I’m sure you know, must be carefully maintained. It requires… strength. And sometimes, strength means knowing who to trust, and where to forge alliances that will protect such a valuable state as El Gran.”
As he spoke, Marcus’s eyes glided from one noble to the next, watching their reactions. Some nodded in agreement, while others seemed to grow thoughtful, as if considering his words more deeply than the surface conversation allowed.
Another noble, younger and more ambitious by the looks of him, leaned in. “Are you suggesting that Espada offers such strength, Lord Marcus? That our future would be more secure under your empire’s protection?”
Marcus chuckled softly, raising his glass to his lips and taking a slow sip before answering. “I offer no such declarations, my young friend. I merely suggest that in times of uncertainty, alliances are what shape the future. Espada has long valued such partnerships, built not on conquest, but mutual prosperity.”
The younger noble’s eyes lit up, clearly intrigued by the notion. “Prosperity, you say?”
Marcus nodded. “Indeed. Imagine a world where El Gran’s wealth and influence are not just maintained, but expanded. Where your borders are secure, and your rivals—those who covet what is yours—are kept at bay. Espada seeks to build, not destroy. We look to the future with vision, not force.”
The silver-bearded man spoke again, his tone more cautious now. “And what would Espada require in return for such prosperity?”
Marcus’s smile widened, though his eyes remained sharp. “A partnership, of course. Cooperation. A shared vision for the future. You see, Espada has no interest in subjugating those who wish to remain strong and independent. We offer power, security, influence… but we require loyalty in return.”
As the conversation continued, Marcus subtly steered the nobles toward topics that revealed more about the inner workings of the court. He learned that the King’s inner circle was divided—some favored isolation and maintaining El Gran’s independence, while others were beginning to see the benefits of aligning with a power like Espada. The Duke of Farros, whom Bartholomew had already identified as a potential obstacle, seemed to be the most vocal opponent of outside influence.
But there were cracks. Other nobles were growing weary of constant border tensions and internal strife. They wanted peace, yes, but they also wanted the security and wealth that came with stronger allies. Marcus could see it in their eyes—the hunger for more, for stability, for the kind of power that Espada could offer.
He moved gracefully from one group to the next, charming the courtiers, drawing out information with every step. At one point, he found himself speaking with a woman who was clearly influential—perhaps a close advisor to the king. She was shrewd, her gaze sharp as she studied him, but Marcus was undeterred.
“Lady Aris,” he greeted her with a bow, his smile disarming. “I have heard much about your wisdom and counsel in matters of the court. El Gran is fortunate to have someone with your insight.”
She tilted her head, watching him carefully. “You are too kind, Lord Marcus. But I must ask—what is it that Espada truly seeks here? You speak of peace and prosperity, but surely an empire as powerful as yours does not extend its hand without expectation.”
Marcus’s eyes gleamed as he held her gaze. “We seek what all empires seek, my lady. Stability. Influence. We offer peace because we know that a prosperous El Gran is a valuable ally. But you are right—we do not extend our hand lightly. We believe in partnerships, in shaping the future together. And we choose our partners wisely.”
She raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a small smile. “And you believe El Gran could be one of those partners?”
“I do,” Marcus replied smoothly. “If the vision aligns. If the right people see the path forward. But that, of course, remains to be seen.”
Lady Aris nodded, her eyes narrowing slightly. “You play a dangerous game, Lord Marcus. But I will admit, you play it well.”
Marcus smiled, bowing his head slightly. “The game is only dangerous if you do not know the rules.”
With that, he moved on, leaving her to ponder his words. The night continued, and by the end of it, Marcus had sown the seeds of doubt and ambition among the nobles of El Gran. He had learned of the fractures within the court, of those who might be swayed to Espada’s cause, and of those who would stand in their way.
As he rejoined Bartholomew, the two exchanged knowing glances. “The court is divided,” Marcus murmured. “But we’ve made progress. Now, we wait, watch, and strike when the time is right.”
Bartholomew nodded, his expression calm but determined. “The king will have no choice but to listen soon enough. And when he does… El Gran will belong to Espada.”