Chapter 32: The Extraction PnNathaniel was returning to his quarters after the evening's blood feast when a shadow detached itself from an alcove. Years of aristocratic training kept him from startling visibly, though his hand instinctively moved toward the ceremonial dagger at his belt.

  "My lord," came a whispered voice. "A moment, please."

  The figure stepped into the dim torchlight—a servant in House Hargrove livery, one of the attendants who had accompanied Duke Hargrove's representatives to the tournament. Nathaniel recognized him as Tomas, a quiet human who had served in the Hargrove household for decades, one of the few servants Natalia had ever trusted.

  "What is it?" Nathaniel asked, carefully maintaining his masculine tone despite the surprise of seeing a familiar face from home.

  Tomas gnced nervously down the corridor. "Not here, my lord. Please."

  After a moment's hesitation, Nathaniel nodded and followed the servant into a small antechamber used for storage. Once inside, Tomas's formal demeanor crumbled.

  "My dy," he whispered, dropping the pretense of addressing Nathaniel as male. "You're in danger."

  Nathaniel stiffened. "You forget yourself, Tomas. I am Lord Nathaniel Hargrove."

  The servant shook his head frantically. "Please, there's no time. Your father didn't send me—I came with Lord Aleksander's entourage. He doesn't know I'm here."

  Lord Aleksander—Nathaniel's half-brother, Duke Hargrove's eldest son and heir. His presence at the tournament wasn't surprising; many noble houses sent observers to evaluate potential alliance opportunities among contestants.

  "What danger?" Nathaniel asked, not acknowledging the servant's recognition but no longer denying it either.

  "Lord Aleksander received instructions before departing our territory," Tomas expined, his voice barely audible. "Not from your father directly—the Duke doesn't yet know of your... situation. The tournament began before any messenger could reach him."

  Of course. Nathaniel had calcuted the timing carefully when pnning his escape. It would take weeks for news to reach Duke Hargrove in his remote castle, and weeks more for his response to return.

  "But Lord Aleksander recognized you immediately," Tomas continued. "He's been watching, waiting to see if you would fail naturally. But after your success in the leadership trial..."

  "He's decided to intervene," Nathaniel finished. This made more sense. His half-brother wouldn't need the Duke's permission to act, especially if he believed he was preserving family honor.

  Tomas nodded miserably. "I overheard him with his personal guard. They pn to drug you during tomorrow's reception and remove you before the territorial assessment trials. They'll cim a family emergency requiring Lord Nathaniel's immediate return."

  Nathaniel paced the small chamber, mind racing. Aleksander had always resented his father's youngest child—the unexpected offspring who somehow earned Duke Hargrove's occasional approval despite being born female. Their retionship had been characterized by thinly veiled hostility disguised as brotherly protection.

  "Why are you telling me this?" Nathaniel asked, studying the servant carefully. "You risk much betraying Lord Aleksander."

  Tomas looked down. "I've served House Hargrove since before you were born, my dy. I watched your mother—" He stopped abruptly, realizing his error.

  "Not my mother," Nathaniel corrected quietly. "My father's consort who showed me kindness."

  "Yes, my apologies. I watched her suffer under the Duke's control. When she was banished, you were the only one who spoke against it, even as a child." His eyes met Nathaniel's with unexpected resolve. "I will not watch another Hargrove woman silenced."

  The decration hung between them—a human servant risking everything to help a vampire noble defy her family. In Orlov's territories, such presumption would merit immediate execution.

  "What exactly is my brother pnning?" Nathaniel asked, returning to the practical threat.

  "They've obtained a sedative from a blood farm—something normally used to keep humans docile during extraction. Lord Aleksander pns to have it added to your ceremonial blood goblet during tomorrow's pre-assessment reception. Once incapacitated, you would be transported back to Hargrove nds in a medical supply carriage, supposedly suffering from an unexpected illness."

  Nathaniel's mind raced through potential counters. Missing the reception would draw attention. Switching goblets risked someone else being drugged. Exposing Aleksander would create a public scandal that might taint his own performance.

  "There's more," Tomas added reluctantly. "Lord Aleksander has arranged a marriage contract in your absence. If he returns with you, the Duke would likely approve it immediately, believing you'd been competing as yourself. The Volkov heir has offered significant territorial concessions for your hand."

  Nathaniel felt cold despite not needing to breathe. The Volkovs were notorious even among Orlov's traditional houses—ancient vampires who maintained blood farms with medieval brutality. Their heir was rumored to have drained three consorts to permanent death over trivial displeasures.

  "When did you learn this?" Nathaniel demanded.

  "Tonight. Lord Aleksander received confirmation of the Volkov offer via messenger. He was... celebrating when I served the evening blood."

  Nathaniel nodded grimly. "Thank you, Tomas. Return to your duties before you're missed."

  The servant hesitated. "What will you do, my dy?"

  Nathaniel's expression hardened into something that would have made Duke Hargrove proud—cold aristocratic determination with an edge of calcuted menace.

  "First, I will survive. Then I will win." He adjusted his formal jacket with deliberate precision. "And you will address me as 'my lord' at all times, even in private. For both our protection."

  Tomas bowed deeply. "Yes, my lord. Forgive the presumption."

  After the servant departed, Nathaniel remained in the antechamber, considering his options. Aleksander's pn presented a far more immediate threat than the tournament sabotage. His half-brother had never been particurly intelligent, but he was ruthless and had their father's favor.

  For a brief, irrational moment, Nathaniel considered seeking Aric's assistance. The thought was immediately dismissed—revealing his secret to a rival contestant would be madness, regardless of their strange connection. This was a Hargrove family matter, and he would handle it as a Hargrove—with calcution, precision, and whatever necessary brutality the situation required.

  As Nathaniel finally returned to his quarters, the irony wasn't lost on him. He had fled his father's house to escape being treated as property to be married off to strengthen alliances. Now, even disguised as a man competing for noble title in his own right, the same fate threatened.

  But this time, Nathaniel had advantages his female self never possessed—freedom of movement, access to resources, and most importantly, the experience of having successfully defied his family once already.

  Tomorrow would require all the aristocratic training and cold calcution Duke Hargrove had unwittingly provided his youngest child. Aleksander might have inherited their father's cruelty, but Nathaniel had inherited something far more dangerous—their father's strategic mind.