THE ONLY SON AMONGST THE DAUGHTERS OF EROS

Even though he was no longer his father in this life, Aeric was still his father’s son, and he had learnt a lot from Mr. Harrison Dagwood. He knew how to get people to agree to do things. He knew how to be deceptive.

First was the deliberate delay. Instead of rushing in and facing a united opposition, Aeric had let the nobles simmer, allowing their frustrations and rivalries to spill out.

This had broken any potential unity against him before he even entered the room.

Doing so, he had then turned his request into an auction. By letting them argue first, he ensured that when he presented his plan, they won’t just consider whether to support him — they’ll be competing to outbid each other in offering their resources.

But Aeric also knew to understand each family. They all had their own strength, business, and grudge. Even though he had a sliver of an idea before, by letting them voice their grievances first, he had learnt exactly where to press when he made his offer.

And now he had psychological superiority. Instead of being the desperate prince seeking aid, he was now in control, watching from above like a chess master before making his move.

He had everyone’s attention now, especially after that opening speech. After letting the silence simmer for a while, he spoke.

“Before we begin, I should make one thing clear.” His voice was calm, but firm. “I am in need of your help. But I am not here to beg.”

A few amused glances were exchanged, but no one spoke.

“The realm is vast. And there are other options than the branching families,” he continued, letting the weight of his words settle. “But I thought it only fair to bring this matter to my family’s most… distinguished allies before looking elsewhere.”

Lord Edwin Varnel let out a chuckle. “Ah, so we’re your first choice, but not your only choice. I believe it.”

Aeric tilted his head. “You better do, Lord Edwin.”

He walked closer and placed his hands on the table. “From each family we would require a total of twenty men, as many weapons and war items as you can supply, a thousand pieces of gold at minimum, five bags of grain, 10 barrels of oil, 20 barrels of clean water, and anything else your heart can afford to give.”

Everyone glanced at each other. “You’re very demanding for a boy,” Lord Kytherson said.

Aeric shrugged. “For a boy, maybe. For a Prince? Absolutely not.”

The Lord downturned his lips and nodded, agreeing with Aeric’s answer. Now, they were intimidated and uncertain. The perfect state of mind for negotiation.

He exhaled as if preparing to make a reluctant concession. “For me and others, the Beast Glade campaign is nothing more than a simple hunt. But for the rest of you, it’s an opportunity. One that, if handled well, could cement certain families into the Queen’s favor.”

That got their attention.

Lady Seraphina Ivermere leaned forward, her feminine gleaming with intrigue. “And you intend to choose who benefits most?”

Aeric gazed at her, and they remained locked in a stare for a moment. “Not at all,” he finally snapped out and said smoothly. “It’s completely up to you all, and your desire to help.”

That single sentence shifted the entire room.

By framing it as their decision, he had set the stage. They were no longer negotiating with him — they were competing against one another.

Lord Gerion Archelin was the first to speak, his voice laced with the confidence of a man used to being indispensable.

“I accept,” he said with a smile. “I mean, why not? I’ll give you all you have asked. But as you said, this means that I get some privileges.”

Aeric listened.

“The rebuilding efforts in Mursbridge,” he continued, leaning forward, “I assume you’ll require the best architects and craftsmen. My family, naturally, would be the ideal choice. And I’ll tell you what, we’ll even do it at half the cost.”

“Oh.”

“However, there is one condition.”

Aeric raised an eyebrow. “I see. Go on?”

Gerion folded his hands together. “Since you are the Head Boy now, I think I could use this opportunity. We would like to see a shift in student placements at the Royal Institution. Higher-ranked Players — those with greater Affinity for Divinity — should study in the Royal Institutions while the low ranks should remain with the commons.”

Aeric’s single brow lifted. A bold demand. And a selfish one as he knew the Archelins had a son and a daughter that were both highly ranked and that was why they were asking for this.

He did not answer immediately. Instead, he leaned back, exhaling thoughtfully, as if weighing the consequences.

A moment of hesitation.

Then another.

The pause worked against the Archelin patriarch. Gerion’s expression tightened slightly, sensing the risk that Aeric might refuse.

Then Aeric sighed, shaking his head. “I can already see the other families pushing back against that.”

He cast a glance at Lord Hollunder Vale, who traded in the Player Market. Then at Lady Elyse Tavert, whose servants and knightguards often recruited from the same pool.

“I’m not sure if it’s worth the trouble,” Aeric murmured.

Lord Gerion stiffened. “A prince should not be so hesitant.”

Aeric allowed the remark to hang before he replied, his tone quiet but edged. “A prince should also not make promises that put him at a disadvantage.”

Gerion’s lips pressed into a thin line.

A calculated delay.

Then, just as Gerion was about to speak, Aeric gave a slow nod.

“However,” he added, “if the Archelin family were to demonstrate their commitment to Mursbridge and Gulydurk’s restoration anyway, it might strengthen the case when I present the matter to the Divine Court and Overseer Theiramora.”

A slight shift in phrasing, but the meaning was clear. Gerion wasn’t gaining power without giving something in return.

The Archelin patriarch frowned, but he wasn’t a fool. He nodded slowly. “A reasonable compromise. You will have all you’ve asked for. The Archelins remain united with the Royal family of Starlight.”

Aeric smiled. “Thank you.”

Gerion and his wife kissed, celebrating the prospect of their children studying in the Royal Institution.

“You’re not serious, are you, Gerion?!” Lord Draco sneered. “All that risk just so your kids could school amongst the Sons and Daughters.”

Aeric glanced at his direction. “Of course, saving the towns means we’ll need the best and most powerful weapons — ones that can withstand and destroy the creatures of the Beast Glade. You’ll have to be our primary arms provider, Lord Draco.”

“Pfft! Forget about it, Son Aeric. I am not going to indulge in your stupid heroics! If you want to sacrifice your life for those villagers. Do it on your own accord! Don’t bring my family into it. I don’t waste resources.”

Aeric didn’t appear to be shaken. “I expected you would say something like that. Which is why before I came here, I had a discussion with the Morgasons.”

An immediate shift occurred in the room. Draco went still, his wife, Julienne looked at him. “The Morgasons?”

“They made an interesting proposal,” Aeric continued, keeping his voice casual. “If I supported them in securing a trade with the Royal Institution, making them one of their main suppliers for weapons — something you have been trying to do, they would give me the weapons I’m asking for. Naturally, a deal like that would raise their standing considerably. They would skyrocket in fame and wealth, and when they make their next submission to take over you as a branching family, it most likely… will be accepted.”

Draco’s fingers curled into his sleeve. The Morgasons! Those damned, relentless blacksmiths! How was the Son smart enough to meet with them first?

And what Aeric said was in fact true. The Morgasons were not a branching family, but if their wealth surpassed Dravencourt’s, they could take over their place and become one.

Aeric watched as realization dawned on Draco. All the anger disappeared, and the Dravencourt lord seemed to have calmed down.

“I assume you declined,” Draco said, voice carefully controlled.

Aeric hesitated.

A fraction of a second.

Then, “I told them I would consider it.”

Draco stiffened. “I see.”

Silence.

Then, before Draco could gather his composure, Aeric struck.

“However,” he mused, “if Dravencourt were to commit fully — perhaps even now — I could ensure that no outside blacksmithing families interfere.”

A trap.

Draco saw it, but he couldn’t afford to call the bluff. If he hesitated, it would suggest uncertainty.

“Fine,” Draco said sharply. “Dravencourt will supply the weapons.”

Aeric horribly wanted to smirk.

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