Gino Weinberg stood alone on the observation platform overlooking the temporary Britannian command zone.
Below him, Pendragon still bore the scars of recent upheaval. Smoke lingered over distant districts where factional clashes had yet to be fully contained. Patrol Knightmares moved through the streets in disciplined formations, their silhouettes cutting across the fractured skyline. Order had returned—but only on the surface.
The balance of power had shifted.
It had not stabilized.
Gino adjusted his gloves slowly, eyes fixed on the horizon.
Schneizel's instructions had been explicit.
No noble seeking to change allegiance would be granted protection—or even an audience—without first proving their usefulness. Loyalty declared under pressure was worthless. Allegiance born of fear had no durability.
Only utility mattered.
It was a principle Gino respected. Politics was not a sanctuary for sentiment.
And yet, the message he had received less than an hour ago complicated that clarity.
His father had arrived in the capital.
The Duke of Weinberg—who only days earlier had aligned himself with Clovis' faction.
And he had requested a private meeting.
Gino had hesitated only briefly before granting it.
Officially, it was a breach of protocol.
Personally, it was unavoidable.
The meeting was arranged in a secured chamber within the inner district. No attendants. No unnecessary witnesses. Even Schneizel had not been informed.
When the Duke entered, he appeared composed, though fatigue marked the edges of his expression. The strain of shifting loyalties in unstable times was not something even seasoned nobles escaped untouched.
"Gino," he said evenly.
"Father."
They did not embrace.
Politics had long ago reduced familial warmth to formal distance.
"I assume this is not a courtesy visit," Gino said calmly.
"No," the Duke replied. "Circumstances have evolved."
Gino remained silent, allowing the weight of expectation to settle between them.
The Duke stepped forward, lowering his voice slightly.
"I never intended to remain aligned with Clovis. Many of us joined his faction under coercion. His consolidation of influence was… persuasive."
"That is a generous description," Gino replied.
The Duke ignored the remark.
"You are close to Schneizel. Influential within his circle. I wish to formally pledge myself to him."
Gino's gaze did not waver.
"His Highness has made his position clear. Those who change sides must demonstrate tangible value."
"I am aware."
"And what value do you offer?" Gino asked.
The Duke studied his son for a moment, then said quietly:
"Immediate proof."
Before Gino could respond, the chamber door opened.
A third figure stepped inside.
Gino's expression sharpened instantly.
A young man. Dark hair. Calm posture. His presence was understated—almost deliberately so. Yet something about the stillness in his bearing felt wrong.
Calculated.
"What is the meaning of this?" Gino's tone hardened. "We agreed to speak alone. And my guards would not have allowed—"
"They are indisposed," the young man replied evenly.
There was no arrogance in his voice. No threat.
Only certainty.
Gino's instincts reacted before his thoughts did.
"Who are you?" he demanded.
The young man stepped forward into the light.
For a fraction of a second, the atmosphere seemed to compress. The air itself felt heavier.
"I believe," he said calmly, "that Duke Weinberg's loyalty can be demonstrated immediately."
Gino felt the shift before he understood it.
The young man's eyes met his.
Crimson sigils ignited within them.
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Elsewhere in Pendragon, Schneizel stood before a large projection displaying factional alignments across the capital.
Colored markers represented influence, troop concentrations, noble allegiances, supply control, and communication hubs.
Clovis.
Guinevere.
Carine.
Their temporary cooperation had sufficed to remove Odysseus. But unity forged by necessity dissolved quickly once the common obstacle vanished.
Schneizel had no intention of confronting them while they remained aligned.
Behind him stood his most loyal supporter, Kanon Maldini, silent and attentive.
A noble knelt before Schneizel now—one of Guinevere's close affiliates.
And secretly, one of Schneizel's long-embedded informants.
"You understand your role?" Schneizel asked calmly.
"Yes, Your Highness."
"You will deliver information regarding the recent meeting between Clovis and Carine."
The noble hesitated slightly.
"In its entirety?"
Schneizel's faint smile appeared.
"Not entirely."
He stepped closer to the projection, adjusting one of the markers with measured precision.
"Guinevere must believe that Carine initiated contact. That she seeks an alliance against Clovis. Emphasize that the proposal came from Carine. That she fears Clovis' ambition."
The noble swallowed subtly.
"And Clovis?"
"That is not a matter you need concern yourself with," Schneizel replied evenly. "Suffice it to say, the design is without flaw."
The noble lowered his head.
"I understand."
"Ensure that every detail is carried out exactly as instructed."
The noble withdrew without another word.
Schneizel remained in the chamber with Kanon.
"Kanon, has the earlier matter been resolved?" he asked calmly.
"Yes, Your Highness. Clovis will soon receive confirmation that Guinevere has been informed."
Schneizel made a minor adjustment to one of the markers on the projected map.
"Excellent."
He clasped his hands behind his back.
"If Guinevere becomes convinced that Carine seeks to outmaneuver her, she will proceed with caution. And if Clovis believes his sisters are negotiating without him, he will hasten his consolidation."
Kanon inclined his head.
"And your intention is to…"
"To align myself with Clovis," Schneizel completed smoothly.
Kanon's eyes flickered in brief surprise.
"Temporarily."
Schneizel's expression remained perfectly composed.
"Clovis is ambitious, but he lacks subtlety. He will welcome my support if he believes that it will save him from his sisters."
"And afterward?"
Schneizel's gaze shifted back to the projection.
"When Guinevere and Carine are neutralized, Clovis will have served his purpose."
The implication required no elaboration.
Canon bowed.
"I understand."
"See that you perform precisely as instructed."
Canon withdrew.
Schneizel remained alone.
For a moment, he considered the broader board.
Kyushu had stabilized.
The Chinese Federation had been repelled decisively.
That development had simplified matters considerably. External pressure would not interfere in the immediate succession struggle.
All variables were aligning.
The capital would fall not through spectacle, but inevitability.
He activated a private channel.
"Begin dissemination," he ordered.
Across Pendragon, carefully selected rumors began to move.