Chapter 3: Shadows of the Night

As the sun set over the rolling hills of the Belonia estate, a quiet calm settled over the manor. The golden light filtered through the tall windows of the dining room, casting long shadows across the oak table where Merida and Marcus sat for supper. The meal was simple but elegant, a reflection of their noble status, yet lacking the opulence of the capital. The candelabras flickered softly, their flames dancing in the gentle evening breeze that drifted through the open windows.

Merida pushed her food around her plate, her thoughts focused on the conversation she needed to have with her brother. Marcus, on the other hand, was visibly agitated, his fork clattering against the porcelain as he toyed with his meal.

“You know why you have to return, Marcus,” Merida began, her tone calm but firm, the voice of reason she so often had to be for her younger brother.

Marcus glared at her, his honey-brown curls falling into his eyes as he slouched in his chair. “I don’t understand why it has to be now. I’m comfortable here. Why can’t I stay a little longer?”

Merida sighed softly, setting down her fork and meeting his gaze with a steady look. “Father and I have always given you the freedom you wanted, Marcus. But this time, it’s important. Your studies, your future—it’s all waiting for you in the capital. You can’t just stay here and avoid your responsibilities.”

Marcus scowled, his youthful stubbornness flaring up. “You and Father always let me do as I please. Why is this any different?”

“This is different because you’re older now, and you can’t keep running away from what’s expected of you,” Merida replied, her voice unwavering. “Father may indulge you, but even he knows that there comes a time when you must take your duties seriously.”

For a moment, Marcus looked as if he might argue further, but the determination in Merida’s eyes made him hesitate. He knew she was right, even if he didn’t want to admit it. His shoulders slumped in defeat, and he stabbed at his food with renewed frustration. “Fine,” he muttered, “I’ll go back to the capital. But I’m not happy about it.”

Merida allowed herself a small, reassuring smile. “I know you’re not. But sometimes, doing what’s right isn’t about being happy. It’s about doing what’s necessary for our family and our future.”

The rest of the meal passed in relative silence, the tension between them slowly easing but not entirely dissipating. Marcus had agreed, but the reluctant acceptance weighed heavily on both of them.

As the evening deepened, Merida retreated to the manor’s office room, a sanctuary where she could manage the estate’s affairs in peace. The room was lined with shelves of books and documents, the walls adorned with portraits of their ancestors who had governed this land before them. The soft glow of the fireplace cast flickering shadows across the room, adding to the ambiance of quiet contemplation.

Merida sat at the large desk, her attention focused on the letters before her—correspondence from the capital, updates on the estate, and a few personal notes from acquaintances. The work was a welcome distraction from the conversation at dinner, though her mind still lingered on her brother’s reluctant agreement.

The quiet was broken by the soft creak of the balcony door opening behind her. Merida didn’t react immediately; she had been expecting this visitor, though their arrival was always unpredictable. The sound of boots—black with hints of red lining—approaching her desk was the only indication that the visitor had entered the room.

Merida finally looked up, her expression unreadable. “You’re late,” she said, her tone neutral, though there was a hint of familiarity in her voice.

The visitor, tall and clad in a black leather doublet with a hint of red, smiled faintly, their eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and something darker. “I had other matters to attend to,” they replied smoothly, their voice carrying the weight of authority.

Merida set aside the letter she was reading, leaning back in her chair as she regarded the visitor. “And what brings you here tonight? I didn’t expect you to return so soon.”

The visitor’s smile widened slightly, though their eyes remained sharp. “There are things that need to be set in motion—plans that require your expertise.”

Merida’s expression remained composed, though her curiosity was piqued. “Does this have to do with the throne?”

The visitor’s smile faded, replaced by a look of seriousness. They leaned closer, their voice lowering to a near whisper. “Yes. The time is coming when all the pieces must fall into place. We’ve been patient, but now... now we must act.”

Merida nodded slowly, her mind racing with the implications of their words. “I see. And what do you need from me?”

Their conversation continued in hushed tones, the words exchanged between them carrying the weight of old alliances and shared ambitions. Though their discussion was brief, it was clear that much had been said, much that could change the course of the empire. The visitor was clearly someone of great importance, someone Merida had known for a long time. But their name, like the true nature of their mission, remained a closely guarded secret.

When their conversation finally ended, the visitor straightened, their demeanor as composed as ever. “Thank you, Merida. I knew I could count on you.”

Merida offered a small, enigmatic smile. “Always. But be careful. The game we’re playing is a dangerous one.”

The visitor nodded, their eyes flickering with a mix of determination and caution. “I’m well aware. But I’ve never backed down from a challenge before.”

With that, the visitor turned and made their way to the balcony, their movements as silent as a shadow. They paused at the doorway, glancing back at Merida one last time before slipping out into the night.

The visitor made their way through the manor’s back garden, the moonlight casting eerie patterns on the ground as they moved swiftly and silently. But as they neared the edge of the garden, they noticed movement near the manor’s side entrance. The visitor halted, their sharp eyes narrowing as they saw a familiar figure sneaking out into the night.

It was Marcus.

Curiosity piqued, the visitor followed at a distance, careful to remain hidden in the shadows. Marcus moved with purpose, his earlier lethargy replaced by a newfound energy as he made his way through the estate grounds and into the dense forest beyond.

The path Marcus took led him into the town, where the streets were quieter now, the usual bustle of the day replaced by the soft murmur of nighttime activity. The visitor continued to trail him, their curiosity growing with each passing moment. What could Marcus possibly be doing, sneaking out like this?

Their silent pursuit led them to a local pub, its sign swinging gently in the evening breeze. The visitor watched as Marcus entered the building, disappearing into the dimly lit interior. Moving quickly, the visitor found a way to scale the side of the building, their lithe form making easy work of the climb. Reaching the roof, they peered through one of the upper windows, careful not to be seen.

Inside, the visitor observed as Marcus was greeted by one of the pub’s staff, who led him to a private room at the back. The scene unfolding before the visitor’s eyes was not what they had expected. Marcus wasn’t meeting with conspirators or engaging in anything remotely suspicious. Instead, he was joining a group of young people, all of them around his age, laughing and chatting as they shared drinks and stories.

The room was filled with the sound of youthful exuberance, the kind of innocent fun that Marcus so often sought to escape the pressures of his family and his looming responsibilities. The sight of Marcus, carefree and smiling among his peers, brought an unexpected smile to the visitor’s face.

For a moment, they watched in silence, a mix of amusement and relief washing over them. Despite the serious matters that had brought the visitor back to Agatha, there was something comforting in seeing Marcus enjoy such a simple pleasure. It was a reminder that, despite the machinations and schemes swirling around them, there were still moments of innocence to be cherished.

Satisfied that Marcus was safe and simply indulging in a harmless night out, the visitor turned away from the window and made their way back down to the street, the smile lingering on their lips. As they disappeared into the shadows once more, the night continued on, the secrets of Agatha woven ever tighter, and the young man’s heart a little lighter for the glimpse of ordinary life he had witnessed.

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