Sea of Glass ✔️

Chapter 9 - The False Heir

"Are you certain that this will work?"

Haydn and Odi were standing outside of the Duke's castle, waiting for one of the guards to notice the former's new appearance.

"Trust me," said the God, who had taken on the form of Haydn's shadow. "He's been heartbroken for days. You will be exactly what he needs."

"And if this fails?"

Odi did not answer, but Haydn knew what would happen if they were caught. It would be his head on the chopping block while the God of Chaos laughed from his throne, safely tucked away in Otherworld.

Concentrating on the glamour he carefully constructed over his face, he approached one of the guards at the entrance.

"Excuse me," he said, making his voice small and timid. "I heard there was work available at the castle. Is there any way that I could get a job?"

The guard sneered, hardly looking at him. "The Duke doesn't take in beggars. If you want money, I suggest you join the army. Or better yet, grab a cup and bum around the town square."

"I would like honest work," he replied. "Surely the Duke is generous enough to offer that."

"Get out of here," the guard said, now glaring at him. "What did I tell you about–"

He froze, his face turning white as a sheet. The guard nearly tripped over his armor. It was like he had seen someone come back from the dead.

"Damon Artois," he sputtered, unsure of what to do with himself. "My Lord, is that you?"

Haydn resisted a self-indulgent laugh coming up his throat. "I don't know who this Damon person is. I'm a poor beggar looking for work. But since you've told me that the Duke doesn't take too kindly to people like me, I will go to the town square, just as you said."

A metal hand clamped around his arm. Ice seeped into his skin as the Conductors channeled the guard's magic.

"I misspoke," the guard said through gritted teeth. "I think the Duke would be very interested in seeing you."

He unceremoniously dragged Haydn through the gates, shoving away anyone who got in his path. Haydn tried to pull away from his grasp, but the ice glued him firmly to the guard.

Odi's plan was working a little too well.

The guard burst into the Duke's study, practically carrying Haydn in his arms. The Duke himself was buried in a stack of papers, with only the top of his balding head visible. Nevertheless, he registered their presence, the shuffling of papers suddenly growing silent.

"What is it?" He sounded cross. Haydn deduced that the guard had interrupted him in the middle of something important.

"Your Grace," the guard said, taking a moment to bow. "I have someone you need to see immediately."

"Unless that person is Duke Grimaldi outside with the Dracenian army ready to surrender in the war that he started, I don't think I need to see them at all," Duke Artois growled. "If I don't have these numbers sorted, it might cause the collapse of the Ylivian economy."

"I think you would really want to see them, Your Grace. You don't know him, but he has a striking resemblance to someone dear to you."

"Is he Duke Grimaldi?"

The guard turned beet red. "You need to see him for yourself. Truly."

"If this isn't worth my time, I'm sending you to the army." The Duke emerged from the papers, scowling through his spectacles. His eyes landed on Haydn and he startled, grabbing the edge of his desk.