Chapter 7
Marcus came back angry.
Family anger has a particular arrogance.
He entered as though I had inconvenienced him.
Forty-one.
My father’s sister’s son.
Raised beside me.
Always certain I had inherited what should have been shared.
He saw Elliot.
Then Daphne.
Then me.
“Messy.”
That was his first word.
I almost laughed.
“You tried to take my south property.”
“Secure.”
“From whom?”
“You.”
There.
At least Marcus preferred direct insult.
He believed the organization had become too dependent on one man.
One voice.
One signet ring.
One central authority.
Some of that criticism was fair.
That was what made his betrayal dangerous.
“You built no succession depth,” he said.
“So you invented my resignation.”
“You wouldn’t discuss transition.”
“I’m thirty-six.”
“You act immortal.”
Maybe.
But Marcus did not create a transition plan.
He created a seizure.
He wanted three hours of confusion to put himself physically inside enough properties that by the time truth spread, captains would have to negotiate with him rather than remove him.
Elliot provided technology.
Daphne provided household access.
Marcus provided men.
Everyone needed everyone.
Until exposed.
I asked Marcus:
“Did you order Tessa hurt?”
“No.”
I believed him.
“Did you know fake orders were being used on staff?”
“Yes.”
There.
He did not need to approve each cruelty.
He accepted the system.
That was enough.
Daphne looked at him.
“You knew?”
He shrugged.
“Household discipline isn’t my concern.”
Tessa flinched.
Marcus noticed.
Did not care.
That answered more about his leadership philosophy than any manifesto.
I leaned back.
“You want men to follow you?”
“Yes.”
“Look at her.”
He frowned.
“What?”
“Tessa.”
He did.
She immediately lowered her gaze.
Fear.
Not respect.
I continued.
“That is what your system creates.”
He scoffed.
“She’s a maid.”
Daphne closed her eyes.
Even she understood that sentence was fatal.
A man who dismisses the powerless usually assumes everyone above them will stay above forever.
Poor strategist.
I removed Marcus from every Vale property that night.
No cousin privilege.
No inherited access.
He smiled.
“You think they’ll all choose you?”
I answered truthfully.
“No.”
That was the difference.
I did not need loyalty manufactured through stolen voices.
May you like
If some men chose him after knowing the truth, I needed to know.
Power worth keeping survives choice.
