Angelus Mansion — Garden
"You are very difficult to negotiate with."
Sous took a seat across from Logos.
The garden was quieter than the hall.
No nobles.
No banners.
Just trimmed hedges, distant lantern light, and the faint sound of servants moving through the manor.
Stone paths curved through carefully shaped flowerbeds. White lanterns hung from iron hooks, their glow soft against the dark. Somewhere farther into the estate, water trickled faintly from a fountain.
Logos sat opposite him.
Kleber stood a few steps behind.
"I am not one to compromise my own interests," Logos replied.
"Fifteen percent is still a great deal," Sous said.
"Will Laos be alright?"
"I could have gone as high as thirty."
Sous raised a brow.
"Then why didn't you?"
"Because most of them are spineless."
Sous leaned back slightly.
"You came to that conclusion quickly."
"It did not take long."
Logos folded his hands neatly.
"Other than Darian and Mirelle, almost no one actually spoke."
"It is called having representatives," Sous replied.
"All of them only speak confidently when surrounded by allies," Logos said calmly.
"And most of them still think war is a story."
A pause.
"And some are simply stupid."
Sous laughed.
Actually laughed.
"I can think of a few names."
"You probably should not invite them again."
"They still have land," Sous replied.
"And soldiers."
"And fathers who will eventually die."
"That makes them relevant."
Logos tilted his head slightly.
"An unfortunate flaw in nobility."
Sous smirked faintly.
"You say that as if you are not one of us."
"The only things I would lose without my title," Logos said,
"are a few years in acquiring resources…"
"…and the convenience of not killing hundreds of people who would inevitably try to stop me."
Silence settled over the garden.
Kleber looked away.
Sous stared at Logos for a moment.
Then—
"You really do say things that sound evil without meaning to."
"I do not think that was evil."
"That," Sous replied, "is exactly the problem."
For once—
Logos looked mildly confused.
Sous leaned forward slightly.
"Do you really not care about the title?"
"No."
"The land?"
"It is useful."
"The influence?"
"Convenient."
"The loyalty?"
"Necessary."
Sous narrowed his eyes slightly.
"Then what do you care about?"
"Too personal," Logos replied.
"We are not close enough for you to ask me that."
"We are going to fight a war together," Sous said.
"Some trust would be appreciated."
"You first."
Sous fell silent.
The wind moved softly through the hedges.
A servant crossed the far end of the garden carrying a tray, then quickly disappeared again.
Then—
"I care about the people."
The answer came without hesitation.
"Not because they are perfect."
"Not because I deserve their loyalty."
His eyes drifted toward the distant lights of the hall.
"But they are ours."
He gestured vaguely toward the manor.
"These people are selfish."
"Often stupid."
A faint smile crossed his face.
"But they are still ours."
He looked back at Logos.
"And if I have to carry them through a war until they can stand on their own…"
His eyes sharpened.
"Then I will."
Logos listened quietly.
Sous noticed.
So did Kleber.
Interesting.
"And you?" Sous asked.
"What do you care about enough to keep fighting for it?"
For a moment—
Logos paused.
Not because he lacked an answer.
Because he was deciding how much to reveal.
Then—
"Throughout history, men have built many things."
"Some terrible."
"Some great."
His gaze remained fixed ahead.
"When I saw that enormous list of accomplishments…"
A pause.
"The only thing I wanted…"
"…was to add something to it that carried my name."
Sous blinked once.
Logos continued.
"The territory."
"The workshops."
"The foundries."
"The soldiers."
"The things we are building."
"They are all part of it."
A pause.
"Those things are mine."
"No compromise."
Something in his tone shifted.
Not softer.
Worse.
Possessive.
Protective.
Sous noticed immediately.
Interesting.
Because for the first time since they had met—
Logos sounded less like a scholar.
And more like a lord.
"You hide it well," Sous said quietly.
"I do not see the point in saying obvious things."
"They are not obvious," Sous replied.
"Not with you."
Logos looked at him.
"Then you are not paying enough attention."
That drew another laugh from Sous.
For a few moments—
The garden was quiet.
No politics.
No war.
No heirs.
Just two boys carrying too much.
Then Sous looked at him again.
"You know…"
A pause.
"You are easier to talk to when there are fewer people around."
Kleber immediately looked away.
Logos blinked once.
"I do not know if that was an insult."
"It was not."
Sous smiled faintly.
"Mostly."
A faint breeze passed through the garden again.
The lanterns swayed slightly.
For once—
Neither of them seemed in any hurry to leave.
Sous leaned back in his chair.
"When I first heard about you," he said quietly,
"I expected someone colder."
"I am cold."
"No," Sous replied.
"You are controlled."
That made Logos pause.
"You think there is a difference?"
"Yes."
Sous folded his arms.
"Cold people stop caring."
"You still care."
"Too much, actually."
Logos looked at him.
Sous met his gaze evenly.
"You care about your people."
"Your territory."
"Your work."
"Your soldiers."
"You just refuse to say it in a way normal people recognize."
Kleber stared silently into the middle distance.
Because annoyingly—
Sous was right.
Logos looked away first.
"That sounds inefficient."
"It sounds human."
That answer lingered.
Longer than either of them expected.
Finally, Logos spoke again.
"You know…"
Sous raised a brow.
"You are more emotionally manipulative than I expected."
Kleber nearly choked.
Sous blinked.
"What?"
"You asked for more support personally because you knew I would respond to it."
"That was not manipulation."
"It was effective."
"That is not the same thing."
Logos tilted his head slightly.
"I disagree."
Sous laughed again.
"You really do reduce everything to results."
"And you do not?"
Sous's smile faded slightly.
For a moment—
He looked older.
"Not always."
The answer came quietly.
"Sometimes I wish I could."
His gaze drifted toward the dark horizon beyond the estate walls.
"Life would probably be easier."
Logos watched him for a moment.
Then—
"No."
Sous looked back at him.
"No?"
"If you thought like me," Logos said calmly,
"you would not be who you are."
A pause.
"And that would be a greater loss."
Silence.
Even Kleber looked surprised.
Sous stared at him for a moment.
Then smiled.
A real one this time.
Small.
Tired.
Honest.
"You know," he said softly,
"You are strangely good at compliments."
"I was not complimenting you."
"Sure."
"I was making an observation."
"That is your version of a compliment."
Logos seemed to consider this.
"…Unfortunate."
Sous laughed again.
And for the first time since the Red Tide—
The future did not feel quite so heavy.