Chapter 25: The Man Called "Useful”

  Cassian’s fingers hovered over the edge of his plate before he pushed it away entirely, rising from his chair with the same effortless grace that Cassian Starfall had mastered.

  The perfect mask slipped into place, smooth as ever.

  He chuckled, tilting his head slightly. “What’s the hurry, Malcolm? Don’t tell me we’re under attack.”

  Malcolm, ever composed, shook his head. “No, young master. There is no attack.” He hesitated for half a beat. “Aldric has returned.”

  Cassian stilled.

  Aldric.

  The name was a quiet ghost in the back of his mind.

  Sky had told him that something felt off about the man.

  And in the diary of Cassian Starfall, there was only one word written beside his name:

  "Useful."

  Cassian's gaze darkened.

  He didn't like that word.

  "Ah," Cassian mused, slipping his hands into his pockets. "So the prodigal dog returns."

  Malcolm didn't react to the slight insult, merely dipping his head. "He wishes to report to you directly."

  Sky swung his legs under the chair, watching the exchange with open curiosity. “Brother,” he whispered, barely loud enough for Cassian to hear, “he’s weird. Don’t let him touch you.”

  Cassian glanced down at Sky.

  Sky’s expression was neutral—too neutral.

  For a child who usually wore every emotion on his sleeve, that was unsettling.

  Cassian’s stomach twisted, but he kept his smirk in place as he ruffled Sky’s hair. “Duly noted.”

  Then, turning to Malcolm, he gestured lazily. “Fine. Bring him in.”

  Malcolm gave a slight bow before stepping away.

  Cassian took his time.

  He smoothed out the cuffs of his sleeves, adjusting the slight wrinkle near his wrist. A meaningless gesture, but it allowed him to focus—allowed him to center himself before meeting someone who had, apparently, been useful to the original Cassian Starfall.

  A minute later, heavy footsteps echoed down the hall.

  Then—

  The door swung open.

  Aldric stepped inside.

  The first thing Cassian noticed was his presence, It wasn’t loud, wasn’t overwhelming. But it was there Like a blade hidden beneath silk.

  Aldric was tall, broad-shouldered, and dressed in a dark military-style coat. His sharp jawline was covered in a hint of stubble, his piercing mismatched dull-blue and silver eyes scanning the room the moment he entered. His movements were calculated—efficient.

  A man who had spent his life standing at the edge of a battlefield, waiting for the next order.

  He stopped exactly three paces away, just shy of stepping too close, and dipped his head.

  “Young master,” Aldric said smoothly, his voice deep and even.

  Cassian leaned back against the table, tilting his head. “Aldric.”

  There was no warmth in his tone.

  Aldric straightened. His expression didn’t shift, but his sharp eyes flickered—assessing.

  For a moment, neither of them spoke.

  Cassian let the silence stretch, watching.

  Would Aldric break it?

  Would he fidget? Shift his weight? Look away?

  He did none of those things.

  'Interesting.'

  It meant one of two things—either he was used to scrutiny, or he knew the man he served well enough to expect it.

  Cassian clicked his tongue. “You’re late.”

  Aldric didn’t flinch. “I was handling matters as you ordered.”

  Cassian’s lips curled at the careful wording. As you ordered.

  Vague. Noncommittal.

  It told him nothing.

  He tapped his fingers against the table. “Remind me,” he drawled, “which matters were those again?”

  Aldric's expression remained unreadable. "The loose ends left behind in the lower districts."

  Cassian felt Sky shift slightly behind him.

  Loose ends.

  A polite way of saying clean-up.

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  The original Cassian Starfall had clearly left something unfinished.

  And Aldric had taken it upon himself to… tie the knots.

  Cassian sighed dramatically. “You always were diligent.”

  Aldric inclined his head, accepting the words as fact, not praise.

  Cassian studied him for a moment longer, then finally pushed off the table, stepping closer.

  Sky tensed, but said nothing.

  Cassian stopped just within arm’s reach.

  Aldric didn’t move.

  Cassian smiled, slow and sharp. “Tell me, Aldric.” His voice was soft. “Are you useful to me?”

  For the first time, a flicker of something passed through Aldric’s gaze.

  Recognition.

  Or perhaps… amusement.

  “I would like to believe so, young master.”

  Cassian exhaled through his nose, his smirk never wavering.

  Then he reached up—

  And patted Aldric’s shoulder once, a mockery of familiarity.

  “Good,” Cassian murmured. “Because I don’t keep dead weight.”

  A test. A warning.

  Aldric met his gaze steadily. “Understood.”

  Cassian smiled wider, stepping back. “Now, tell me.” He gestured lazily. “What mess did you clean up?”

  Aldric’s expression remained neutral, but there was a pause.

  A pause just long enough for Cassian to catch.

  Then—

  “The ones you left behind.”

  Cassian’s blood turned cold.

  His smirk never faltered, but his mind raced.

  Careful.

  Aldric had chosen those words deliberately.

  Not “the ones your father left behind.”

  Not “the ones from the organization.”

  'The ones you left behind.'

  Cassian’s fingers curled slightly at his sides.

  Did Aldric know?

  Or was this another test?

  Cassian chuckled, low and amused. “Ah,” he mused. “I do have a bad habit of leaving a trail, don’t I?”

  Aldric didn’t respond.

  But Cassian saw it.

  The ghost of something in his eyes.

  Understanding.

  Or worse—expectation.

  Cassian’s mask didn’t crack. He tilted his head, eyes glinting in the dim light.

  “Well,” he drawled, “since you’re so useful, I trust you handled it perfectly?”

  Aldric nodded once. “As always.”

  Cassian hummed. “Good.”

  For now, he would let it be.

  But later—

  He would have to decide.

  Was Aldric a loyal blade?

  Or was he a dagger waiting to be turned?

  Cassian leaned back slightly, his fingers idly tracing the polished surface of the table. His expression remained smooth, almost lazy, but his mind was already pulling the threads tighter.

  Aldric knows.

  Not in the vague, whispered way the household staff suspected things. Not in the distant way Malcolm avoided speaking of Cassian Starfall’s past actions.

  No. Aldric knew.

  He had seen Cassian Starfall’s work firsthand.

  He had been there.

  Cassian had no doubt of that now.

  And if Aldric had been close enough to witness it, close enough to speak without hesitation—then he had played a role in it, too.

  Cassian turned slightly, gaze sharpening. Time for a test.

  He smiled, slow and deliberate. “Aldric, do one thing for me.”

  Aldric remained still, waiting.

  Cassian’s smirk deepened. “Tell me one word that describes me.” His voice was smooth, almost amused. “And don’t sugarcoat it. If you do—” He tilted his head, voice lowering to something sharper, silkier. “I wouldn’t mind serving you as a meal to the crows.”

  A pause.

  A test.

  Aldric didn’t react.

  Not to the subtle threat. Not to the amusement laced within it.

  He stood, unwavering. The dim light caught the hard angles of his face, the sharp cut of his jaw. His grey eyes remained unreadable, the same dull silver as a blade left in the cold.

  Cassian didn’t blink.

  He watched. Waited.

  For a flicker of hesitation. A shift in posture. A break.

  There was none.

  Then—

  Aldric spoke.

  “Inevitable.”

  The word cut through the air like a blade.

  Cassian felt his heartbeat slow.

  His fingers twitched at his side.

  Not monster. Not master. Not brilliant. Not killer.

  Inevitable.

  Cassian’s smirk lingered, but the air in the room felt heavier. Thicker.

  He exhaled slowly. “Oh?” He feigned amusement, tilting his head. “That’s an awfully poetic word for someone who doesn’t sugarcoat things.”

  Aldric’s face remained impassive. “It is the truth.”

  Cassian studied him.

  The weight of that word sat between them, heavier than anything else Aldric could have chosen.

  Inevitable.

  Like a storm on the horizon.

  Like the ending of a story already written.

  Like fate itself.

  Not just an acknowledgment of power.

  Acceptance.

  Cassian chuckled under his breath, but the sound was quieter now. More thoughtful.

  “Well,” he murmured, stepping closer. The tension between them tightened, invisible but present. “If that’s the case, Aldric, tell me—”

  His fingers tapped lightly against the polished table.

  “What did I do for you to say that?”

  Another test.

  Another chance for Aldric to flinch. To reveal something.

  But Aldric didn’t, Instead, his expression remained exactly the same as before.

  “You exist,” Aldric answered simply.

  Cassian’s smirk faltered, just for a second.

  His amusement flickered, replaced by something colder.

  He studied Aldric, looking—searching—for something beneath that mask.

  But there was nothing.

  Just cold, unwavering certainty. Aldric spoke as if it were a fact. As if Cassian Starfall—as if he—was something that had always been coming.

  Something unavoidable.

  Something predestined.

  Cassian inhaled slowly, then exhaled. He stepped back.

  Aldric watched him, waiting.

  Cassian let the silence settle.

  Then, he smiled again—this time, not out of amusement, but out of something else.

  Something sharp. Something dangerous.

  “Aldric,” he mused, voice smooth, almost conversational. “You are very good at answering without actually answering.”

  Aldric tilted his head slightly, just enough to acknowledge the statement. “And you are very good at testing people.”

  Cassian chuckled. “Touché.”

  The moment stretched.

  Then—

  A sharp knock at the door.

  Malcolm’s voice, controlled but firm. “Young master. We have a visitor.”

  Cassian didn’t look away from Aldric.

  But he felt something shift.

  The weight of something pressing in.

  Something inevitable.

  Cassian sighed, rolling his shoulders. “Well.” His voice was light, but his gaze was sharp. “Let’s see what else fate has in store.”

  Then, without another word, he turned toward the door.