Leonidas approached the main gates of Dawnhaven while on passive alert, his blade still resting on his shoulder and the back behind it, and his left hand settled around the House Aventus crest in his left pocket. His eyes took in the sights of the entrance with silent appraisal, noting the uniformed members of the Royal Army manning the walls and various checkpoints, and the members of the Dawnguard nearby offering support and tacit aid for their ‘regular’ contemporaries.

  His eyes took in the number and placement of the various people near the gate quickly, noting the merchant caravans, adventuring parties, and even an assembling patrol group likely intent on checking the surrounding terrain for unwelcome visitors. Ceruviel had told him that the Thronehold was ramping up security, per her and Uriel’s orders, and that it would likely mean an increased military presence even in the morning hours.

  Leonidas came to a halt when they approached within one hundred meters of the gate and turned to his companions, flicking a hand to create a bubble of [Psionic Force] that encapsulated all of them. He wouldn’t make the mistake of permitting easy eavesdropping again.

  The action earned a few alarmed glances, but once he was recognized, most people went about their way—some a little more hurriedly.

  He had a reputation, after all.

  “{Remain in my proximity,}” Leonidas said to his companions after turning to look at them all, and a slight elevation of his voice. “{Despite what happens, maintain your composure and adhere to my example. I am disliked by many among the Dawnguard, but our departure should proceed absent complication.}”

  A round of nods followed his words, and Leonidas settled his gaze on Parnym.

  “{Lance-Mender, join me at the fore. It will ameliorate suspicion if you are seen in the vanguard at my side.}”

  Parnym blinked at him and moved forward at his beckoning, stepping closer with a hint of nerves and peering at him warily. “{I am at your service, my lord.}”

  “{For the sake of ease, Parnym, just call me Leonidas, or Achilles, as you prefer,}” Leonidas said wryly to the Haelfar Mender, leveraging his Charisma, and then nodded to the gate. “{We are going to make use of your insignia to make this a relatively smooth process. As stated, you merely need to follow my example.}”

  “{Of course, my l—er, A–Achilles.}”

  Leonidas smiled at him in approval.

  “{Synthra, Bardulf, stay on our Party Leader’s flanks,}” he instructed the remaining two. “{It would be ideal if no one were able to peer at our fifth too closely.}”

  Synthra and Bardulf exchanged a glance at his words, faintly amused, but nodded and calmly slotted in beside Aylar, with the Sorceress going so far as to casually loop her arm with hers as if they were old friends—a suitably effective camouflage, truth be told. Few people would suspect that the Princess-Royal would be merrily strolling arm-in-arm with an Adventurer.

  “{Are you all ready?}”

  “{Ready!}” Bardulf said cheerfully.

  “{Of course,}” Synthra said impatiently.

  “{I am prepared,}” Aylar affirmed in determination.

  “{By your lead, A-Achilles,}” Parnym said last, smoothing his robes subconsciously.

  Leonidas nodded and dispelled the [Psionic Force] bubble, striding forward with his companions in tow and beelining for the gate, specifically toward the checkpoint within the immense portal and the Royal Army soldiers manning it. While the Dawnguard and Duskguard were primarily responsible for the City’s defense and safety, the Royal Army often filled in where needed. Leonidas did not doubt that some Dawnguard Dagger-Master had believed gate duty beneath them, and coralled a Dagger of the Army to stand in their stead.

  That, thankfully, worked nicely to their group’s benefit.

  The pace Leonidas set for their approach was swift enough to show intent, but not so hurried as to convey nerves—a discipline he’d learned to near-perfection on Elatra, when he’d been forced to do troop inspections and make nice with the various leaders of the Grand Alliance during the latter half of the War against Azrageth. He’d never thought those lessons would be useful again so soon—but he wasn’t about to discount the providence in learning them.

  When they reached the gate, Leonidas quietly surged more Psi into his passive [Psionic Focus], but didn’t match it with Cataclysm Mana. He wanted to show an expression of intent, not one of potential conflict. It would be good for the Royal Army to see him prepared—even eager—to go into the wilds. It would be a problem if they thought he was just looking for a fight.

  Balance. It needed a delicate balance.

  Their approach to the gate was uninterrupted for only seconds before a Haelfar woman in steel plate stepped out of the milling crowd and merchant caravans, holding up a plated gauntlet authoritatively.

  “Halt!” she said in accented English. “By order of the Crown!”

  Leonidas arched his eyebrow slightly at her words, but came to a calm halt when asked, his companions mimicking him and shifting in a way that coincidentally revealed the least of Aylar to the casual observer. It seemed like pure happenstance, but that was the idea.

  “Good morning,” Leonidas said with a casual smile, idly tapping his blade against his shoulder in an affectation of idle amusement. “Something wrong?”

  The Haelfar regarded him carefully when he spoke, the green eyes under her conical helmet moving first to his blade, and then to his eyes—where she lingered in assessment, tracing them and seeing what Leonidas knew were the tell-tale marks of naked Psionic potency bleeding through the blue.

  “...nothing is wrong, Earl Latherian,” the woman said shrewdly a moment later. “Merely performing the standard inspection. What is your business at the gate? Has the Duchess—”

  “I’m going out for a jaunt to hunt manabeasts,” Leonidas interrupted, cutting off any supposition that would require him to lie. It wasn’t as if anything precluded him from doing so, but he hated lying unless it was critical to his or another’s safety. “The Dusk-Lord is eager for me to grow my power, and frankly, so am I. I figured it was about time I went looking for my own prizes, instead of depriving the Arena of entertainment,” he finished with an easy grin, and another Intent-weave of his Charisma.

  “I see,” the woman said as she relaxed subtly and nodded to his [Archon’s Psiblade]. “I take it you aren’t wanting any chance of being surprised, if you’re already armed.”

  “Ceruviel doesn’t like it when I get injured by my own stupidity,” he said to her wryly, using the Duchess’ name both as a subtle hammer and as a means to draw her attention off of his companions. He wanted her to focus on him, on the Terran Archon, not the people in his company.

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  Fate, however, was not always so kind.

  “And your companions?” the woman asked while roving her eyes over their group.

  Yeah. Fate could be a cruel bitch.

  “Friends of mine from the day of my Slayer Trial with the Adventurers’ Guild, and a Mender from the Duskguard that my Mentor recruited to travel with us in case of accidents,” he said truthfully. He had met Aylar the day of his Trial, after all.

  “So I see,” the woman said while eyeing Parnym, who offered her a neutral look. When not dealing with Royals or Archons, the Mender seemed far more confident. Leonidas filed that away for later consideration.

  “You are aware that the gates will be shut after the start of the Dusk Watch?” the woman asked more formally, seemingly satisfied with his presented answers. “If you wish to re-enter the city, you will need a writ from the Dusk-Lord.”

  “I doubt it’ll be an issue, ah…?”

  “Tylan,” the woman supplied crisply. “I am the Dagger-Master for the Royal Army group minding the gate.”

  “Dagger-Master Tylan, then,” Leonidas said with a polite nod. “As I was saying, I doubt it’ll be an issue. The redhead is Guild Mistress Sinalthria’s daughter, so worst-case scenario, I’m sure that the Duchess and Guild Mistress will handle any irregularities.”

  The admission was both strategic and necessary.

  Synthra was too easily recognizable given her appearance, beauty, and unique features, and Haelfenn often wielded their social status as a weapon to get their way. Leonidas suspected Tylan would be more at ease with him acting like an entitled Noble than if he pretended toward modesty or humility, and judging by the way she appraised Synthra and nodded to her with respect, his guess was correct.

  “I thought you looked familiar, miss,” the Dagger-Master said politely. “Please thank your mother for the Guild’s aid these past days. The manabeasts have been particularly aggressive to the south.”

  “I’ll pass it along, Dagger-Master,” Synthra said with a surprisingly charming lilt to her voice. “It is always a pleasure to be of aid to the Crown’s best.”

  Tylan seemed to stand a little straighter at the words and gave Synthra a single approving nod before turning her gaze back to Leonidas. She seemed more impressed with him after the exchange, as if Synthra’s evident competence were a compliment to him, as well.

  Haelfenn social standards operating at full force, he supposed.

  Intelligent association was often considered as crucial as comportment.

  “Please be aware that any injuries, fatal or otherwise, that you accrue outside the gates are of your own volition, Earl Latherian,” the woman said more formally, while settling into what Leonidas recognized as a rehearsed pattern of speech. “The Crown does not take any responsibility for those who willingly depart the City’s embrace and pass outside of its immediate protective cordon. Any and all risks taken thereafter are considered to be an abdication of the Crown’s obligation toward citizen defense.”

  Leonidas smiled at the faint pulse of disapproval that rippled through Aylar’s mind-glow, but passed it off as easy acceptance.

  “Perfectly reasonable, Dagger-Master. Is there anything I have to sign to indicate my acceptance?”

  “No, my lord,” Tylan said, her tone faintly deferential for the first time, perhaps out of newly-earned respect for his good behavior and lack of insanity. She’d probably heard rumors. “Your departure will be recorded with the rest. I can send you through ahead of the Merchants, if you wish, as a sign of acknowledgement for your station. I can imagine waiting for the caravans to clear would cut into your hunting time.”

  “That’d be most appreciated, Dagger-Master,” Leonidas said, and genuinely meant it. “I’d like to be chasing down prizes for the Duchess’ mantle sooner rather than later. She tends to be a little cranky when I miss my agreed time windows,” he said with a conspiratorial wink, and drew a faint smirk from under the conical helmet.

  “I can only imagine, my lord. Please, follow me and we can—”

  “{Hold}!”

  Leonidas’ eyes narrowed fractionally, and he suppressed a ‘tsk’ of irritation as the sound of imperious Haelfennyr tore through the area, sourced from a self-important-looking knight in Dawnguard gold.

  I’m going to purge that entire force when I’m King, he grumbled to himself, and then mentally froze at his own reflexive thought.

  When?

  Leonidas was saved from further self-reflection by the arrival of an old friend, one whose face could not have been more unexpected, nor more unwelcome at that precise moment in time.

  Valerian Cade.

  “{Earl Latherian,}” the Dawnguard Dagger-Master said with a look of unmitigated loathing. “{What are you doing here?}”

  Leonidas suppressed the urge to say something juvenile and rude, and instead offered the Dagger-Master a casual shrug while Tylan looked between them with narrowed green eyes.

  “Going on a manabeast hunt,” Leonidas said in deliberate English, with a tone that bordered on disinterested. “I need to level up. Duchess’ orders.”

  The Dawnguard Officer narrowed his eyes at the words and turned to Tylan.

  “{I will take over here, Dagger-Master. You may see to the rest of the residents at the gate.}”

  Tylan drew herself up at the words and assumed the universal stance of parade rest.

  “{I have already granted the Earl permission to depart the city, Dagger-Master. There is entirely no need for your intervention. His affairs are in proper order, and he has been deemed free to depart.}”

  Valerian scoffed, faintly, at her words and shook his head.

  “{This is the purview of the Dawnguard, not the Army. Stand aside, Dagger-Master. I intend to find out precisely what Earl Latherian—}” he made the title sound faintly like an insult, a feat that actually impressed Leonidas “{—is concocting. The man has already hoodwinked and charmed our Princess. I shudder to think of what madness he is planning with these unassuming souls.}”

  Leonidas raised his eyebrows at the severity of the Dagger-Master’s words, and his eyes narrowed faintly. There was too much confidence in how Valerian was speaking. He couldn’t have easily forgotten the lesson from the previous day, so what was it? What could have the man so intensely confident that he would—

  Ah, Leonidas realized ruefully. He found someone he thinks can protect him.

  It was a common tactic in Haelfenn Courts, as common it seemed on Altera as on Elatra: if confronted by a superior power, find one that was close enough in prestige to challenge an immediate reprisal. It made perfect sense.

  Leonidas, however, wasn’t intending on letting the man have his way.

  Affecting a look of offense, he snapped his eyes to Valerian sharply.

  “{Dagger-Master, did you just infer I had dishonored the Princess-Royal?}”

  Valerian looked back at him when he spoke, and the Dawnguard Officer’s eyes narrowed slightly.

  “{I did not say that,}” he responded with a sudden caution. “{I merely—}”

  “{Implied unsavory conduct between myself and the Princess-Royal,}” Leonidas cut in sharply, and lowered his right hand so that his blade was facing the manastone thoroughfare below their feet. “{Further, you implied dishonorable conduct between myself and my companions, did you not?}”

  Ceruviel’s gonna rave at me. So much for maintaining composure, Ace.

  Valerian’s eyes flickered across Leonidas’ Party, carefully, and then returned to Leonidas himself.

  “{I merely stated the truth, Earl. You are a Terran that has risen above your station, and your barbaric methods have already cost the Core of one innocent—}”

  Leonidas didn’t let him finish. His left hand rose, and he gripped his glove in his teeth, pulling it from his hand and promptly throwing it into Valerian’s chest midway through his statement.

  Everyone froze when he did, and Leonidas struggled to rein in his satisfaction.

  “{Dagger-Master Valerian Cade,}” Leonidas said coldly, “{By my Title as Earl, by my Title as First-Sword of Dawnhaven, and by my Right as an Archon, I find you in contempt of decorum, and acting in a manner undeserving of the rank you hold. For the impeachment of the honor of the Princess-Royal, for the impeachment of the honor of the Sorceress of the Everflame, and for the impeachment of my honor as an Archon: I hereby challenge you to an [Honor Duel].}”

  A System Chime erupted across the area, and eyes turned rapidly as Valerian’s own widened in surprise.

  Leonidas barely managed to stop himself from howling with laughter.

  The cold mask remained, but just barely, as his [Cataclysm Core] roared to life.

  I have you now, you absolute piece of shit.

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