The chamber felt alive, almost breathing, the candlelight flickering over walls polished to a faint, reflective sheen. Each shadow seemed to stretch and twist, as though the room itself anticipated what was to come.

Aiden's armor glinted dully in the light, the gold flecks in his eyes catching every flicker, casting an almost imperceptible aura of heat and intent around him. He moved forward with slow deliberation, each step measured, yet carrying the weight of unspoken command.

Before him, Lady countess remained poised, a statue of restrained authority. Her fingers twitched almost imperceptibly at her side, betraying her inner storm—a mixture of curiosity, fear, and the nascent thrill of power finally within her grasp.

Aiden noted the subtle rise and fall of her chest, the way her eyes shifted when she thought no one was watching. She was anchored, yes, but only in his presence; bold action had started here, now, in his orbit.

He stopped a few feet away, letting the air between them thrum with unspoken tension. "Do you believe it?" he asked, voice low, honeyed, and edged with authority. "That I have the house of Leonidus and the house of Merlin at my back?"

Her eyes flickered, wide, almost unconsciously, before narrowing in measured defiance. "I… I don't know what to believe," she admitted, her lips tightening, "but surely you can't—"

"Do not be naive," Aiden interrupted, a soft yet sharp edge to his tone. "Do not make the mistake the Earl of Wessex did, believing in weakness. Thinking I am weak is the first and most dangerous mistake one can make." He let the words hang in the air like a challenge, letting the weight of his certainty settle over her.

And at that precise moment, his carefully orchestrated plan was already in motion. His letter, sealed and bearing the unmistakable insignias of power, was winging its way toward the Leonidus capital, reaching Viscount Augustus himself.

Another, identical in purpose and force, traveled to the Merlin fief, landing in the hands of Duchess Sabrina. The threads of influence he had set in motion were already tightening, unseen but inexorable.

Shina's gaze flicked down involuntarily, the names heavy in her mind. The Leonidus. The Merlin. Titans of nobility, forces that dwarfed the drunkard she called husband.

Her pulse quickened, and yet she stayed her place. Loyalty, habit, fear—whatever it was that had always held her near the man beside her—was suddenly irrelevant. Aiden had anchored her attention, and the possibilities beyond her previous life were flickering like a torch in a winded hall.

Tanya, ever the silent instrument of Aiden's will, glided in with two cups of wine. She moved with a precision that spoke of both devotion and fearlessness.

A small, knowing smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she set the glasses on the table. One of them was tipped with Aiden's blood, the crimson liquid catching the dim candlelight, turning ordinary wine into a vessel of influence.

Countess's throat constricted slightly as she lifted the cup, her fingers brushing Tanya's in a fleeting, electric touch. Perhaps she was already tipsy, a touch careless in her grip.

The wine slid down her throat, warm and heavy, leaving a trail of promise and subtle compulsion in its wake. Aiden noted it with satisfaction; the work was beginning to bloom.

[Claire cash Saxon

Personality: strict/ confused/ horny

Status: charmed possession]

'yessss.....' Aiden thought.

"Help me," he murmured, taking a slow step closer, closing the distance until the warmth of his presence brushed against her arm. "Side with me, and we can bend what is coming.

Before the storm—Sabrina, Catherine—they will descend, ruthless and precise, if provoked. But together… together we can shape the current rather than be swept under it."

Her fingers tightened on the cup, knuckles pale in the candlelight. "And if I… believe you, what does my husband gain? Our family? Our son? Our daughter?" The question was measured, careful, yet her eyes betrayed a flicker of longing—a wish to understand, a desire to trust, even amid the uncertainty.

Aiden's smile was slow, deliberate, a predator's grin cloaked in charm. "They will get nothing," he whispered first, letting the words settle like a shadow over the edges of the room. Her eyes widened, flicking briefly toward his lips, searching for the bite, the danger hidden in the velvet cadence of his tone.

And then he moved closer. Very close. Close enough that the warmth of his breath caressed her ear, making her pulse quicken. "You… will get everything," he murmured, low, intoxicating. His hands found her waist, the motion possessive yet teasing, sliding lower, cupping, drawing a sharp, involuntary breath from her. "Especially… you will get me. Or at least… a taste of me."

Her cheeks flushed crimson, the soundless tremor of her body betraying the thrill, the pull of power and desire intermingling. Tanya's presence was momentarily forgotten as her focus narrowed entirely on the one who had upended her carefully ordered world.

The room itself seemed to vibrate with tension, the candlelight flickering as though reacting to the energy between them.

Time became elastic. Hours slipped unnoticed. Each whisper, each subtle touch, each word dripped like molten gold, binding, influencing, shaping.

By the second hour, she was entirely within his orbit, the influence of both the potion and the man himself having reshaped the night's stakes. Aiden's control was absolute, yet entirely invisible. Influence flowed like water through the veins of the castle, a quiet, unstoppable tide.

When he finally stepped back, removing the last distance between them, the kiss mark on his neck burned a silent signature of conquest, a token of the night's triumph.

He cracked his neck with a lazy stretch, armor clinking softly as he moved. The chamber felt smaller now, tighter, every shadow and whisper holding echoes of what had transpired.

Outside, Baron Meliodas waited, hands clasped, posture rigid with anticipation. His gaze tracked Aiden's approach, full of unspoken questions, guilt, and gratitude intertwined.

The man knew—he had known all along—that Aiden was the only one with his back, the only one unshaken by the tide of disrespect, envy, and fear that had followed him since the start of the Earl's schemes.

Aiden allowed a faint smile to curl at the edges of his lips. The tension, the drama, the dance of power and seduction—all of it had been necessary. All of it had succeeded. He gave Baron Meliodas a single, deliberate nod, silent confirmation of victory and progress.

"First step is done, next step, Time for tea with all the baroness..." Aiden said, voice low, smooth, and authoritative. The words carried weight, promise, and just a hint of danger. They echoed faintly in the hall, over the polished stone and flickering torches, signaling the next stage.

Next chapter will be updated first on this website. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.