Reincarnated as the third son of the Duke

196 The Cost of Legitimacy

William's cold voice cut through their indecision like a blade.

"Are you all conspirators in this assassination attempt as well?"

The knights froze.

Loyalty was an ironclad principle for them. To betray one's liege was unthinkable.

But this was no ordinary treason.

The involvement of an unregistered mage changed everything.

If they were named as accomplices, it wouldn't just be their lives on the line. Their families, their entire bloodlines, their entire house would be erased.

Some might consider death in battle an honorable end.

But dying slowly under the Imperial inquisition?

That was a fate no knight wished to face.

William allowed them a moment to absorb the weight of their predicament before delivering the final blow.

"If you have no ties to magic, stand down. No vassal knows every secret of their lord's schemes. I am willing to acknowledge that."

It was an unspoken mercy.

A warning wrapped in a lifeline.

The knights stood motionless for a long moment before, with grim expressions, they loosened their grips on their swords.

It was a disgrace.

No knight wished to be remembered as one who failed to protect their lord.

But disgrace was better than annihilation.

William gave them a final glance before turning to his soldiers.

"Arrest the traitor."

An assassination attempt against a high-ranking noble.

A failed assassination attempt.

And the employment of an unregistered mage— an act strictly forbidden by the Imperial Court.

There was no escaping this.

As expected, the grand banquet was abruptly canceled.

But the nobles didn't leave.

Instead, they remained, drawn to the unfolding chaos like moths to a flame.

House Calix was finished.

The once-dominant northern power had fallen in a single night.

And the young Duke standing in its place? He was the one who had orchestrated it.

The other lords whispered among themselves, already calculating their next moves.

"So it's settled. The northern power now belongs to that young Duke."

"The balance of power is shifting. How will he handle the lands House Calix leaves behind? What about their allies?"

"This is all happening in Asagrim. If we leave now, we'll be the last to hear of the changes."

One nobleman nodded, deep in thought.

"Until we're forced out, we should stay as close as possible. Better to adapt early than be left scrambling later."

A house as powerful as Calix wouldn't simply disappear overnight.

Its collapse would send ripples through the north—shaking old alliances, redrawing territorial lines, and forcing every noble to reconsider their position.

And then, of course, there was the matter of the mage.

The Imperial Court would issue their own judgment on the unregistered magic user.

The nobles wanted front-row seats to it all.

William knew this.

And he had no intention of sending them away.

"It is unfortunate that tonight's banquet was cut short due to unforeseen events," he announced. "For those interested in further admiring the White Palace, I invite you to stay as my guests."

It was a trap.

A polite, veiled challenge.

"Stay and watch. Be here when the power shifts. If you have objections, voice them now—where I can see you."

Some would benefit from the fall of House Calix. Others would suffer.

The only question was—who would accept the new order, and who would resist?

William needed to know who was worth keeping an eye on.

And who needed to be dealt with.

"The Mage Must Be Taken to the Capital."

As soon as the immediate chaos had settled, Glenn approached William, his expression rigid.

"We must take the mage to the capital at once."

There was no room for discussion in his tone.

William raised an eyebrow.

Glenn had always been a man of reason—never this forceful.

"You already know, Your Grace," Glenn continued, "that an unregistered mage is guilty by existence alone."

"Of course," William replied smoothly. "But—"

"There are no 'buts.' There are no exceptions when it comes to magic."

For the first time, William dropped his pretense of civility.

"And what of the Blue Rose Knights?" he demanded. "What of His Majesty's elite soldiers?"

Glenn hesitated.

William's voice was sharper now, more direct.

"Colin is the only witness who can expose House Calix's schemes. You want me to send him away before he testifies?"

"I have already told you—there can be no exceptions when it comes to matters involving mages."

Glenn's voice was unwavering, his stance firm.

William, however, refused to yield.

"Then tell me, what am I supposed to do without a witness?" His tone was sharp, his patience thinning. "If House Calix weaves a convincing lie, how exactly am I supposed to prove them wrong?"

Glenn fell silent.

William pressed forward.

"In the worst-case scenario, I'll be painted as nothing more than a scheming noble who framed his rival to eliminate competition," he said coldly. "You know this as well as I do, Glenn."

The crime at hand wasn't some petty offense—it was treason. A crime that could result in the total annihilation of a noble house.

Norbeck would never confess willingly.

Especially not to William, the man who had killed his heir.

No, Norbeck would fight tooth and nail to drag William down with him. He would throw away all dignity, all restraint, just to see him suffer.

"I had the advantage of legitimacy," William continued, "but if I stand there, unprepared, floundering in the face of their feeble excuses, what do you think will happen? The scattered remnants of their house will rally. They will cry injustice, claim they were framed, and they will fight."

Glenn's silence deepened.

"With that mage's testimony, House Calix is finished," William said, his voice unwavering. "Without it, we may very well be looking at a war. Are you truly willing to sacrifice the lives of the Blue Rose Knights and the Imperial elite over sheer stubbornness?"

It was the undeniable truth.

Glenn knew it.

And because he knew it, he could not argue against it.

William watched him carefully.

He had expected resistance, but Glenn was usually logical—pragmatic, even. Yet today, he seemed... unusually rigid.

"Take it to His Majesty," William finally said. "He is the one who sets the rules, is he not? We must hear his judgment."

Glenn's lips parted, as if to protest, but then he hesitated.

His expression darkened.