Convenience of Marriage

The Agaevia Kingdom was located in the far west, isolated, and surrounded by miles and miles of water. The Kingdom was formally under the rule of the Vezhar Empire and was in the hands of the Velarov family. 

The nobility comprised mainly of seven families; the Redwynes, Daryan, Kurogane, Taziri, Caldwell, Sinclair, and Ginso. The rest were like ants being crushed beneath these seven families. Emerging from merchant descent were the Whitmores. Despite not having a title, they had more lands, money, and influence behind the scenes than any family could ever imagine they had but the lack of title was always a sore spot for the ambitious Bennett Whitmore. 

His sheltered little precious daughter, Cecelia, was his golden ticket to aristocracy after he discovered an existing marriage alliance that failed to go through between his parents and the Sinclairs. The Sinclair family, ever so regretful for letting this big fish go, agreed to have a Whitmore daughter marry their heir. 

This seems like the deal of the century for the Whitmores when you do not take into account the fact that the Sinclairs were deep in financial trouble. 

"Duke Sinclair has recently expressed desire to step down and let his son take over, it would not be in vain if you marry the heir."

"Father, the Sinclairs are nearly in ruins. Why not consider the-"

Bennett furiously slammed down on the table before standing up. He pointed his finger at his youngest son Callum and says, "It is your sister's blessing that the Sinclair family is taking her in. So what if they have some financial difficulties? Our family has enough money to support twenty Sinclair families! In the future Cecelia will be Duchess Sinclair and that is…truly priceless."

Dawn stood up from her seat and tried to calm down Bennett but he flung his arm away in disdain causing her to lose balance fall to the ground 

"I told you Nathaniel, you should have married Viscountess Reon rather than this daughter of a mere Baron. As the sole heir, her husband is now a Viscount! Tsk. If you had done as you were told, your sister would not be 'sold' off right?" 

Nathaniel lowered his head in embarrassment and gently helped his wife to get up. He simply could not and would never understand his father's insatiable thirst for nobility. For the simple minded young man, leading a peaceful and prosperous life with his wife was way better than any happiness Bennett thought he would gain from a title. 

Bennett walked away with his hand behind his back and the other holding onto the butler. 

"This wouldn't do.." Alden said, pressing his slender fingers on his temple. 

Cecelia did not dare to say anything. 

If her father was so adamant on marrying her off to this man that means that there must be something good about him. Right? 

No matter how power hungry her father seemed, Cecelia refused to believe that he had the nerve to push his only daughter into an abyss with his own two hands. This is how she managed to convince herself that everything would be fine. 

—---

The bar is sleek, minimal, and expensive without trying too hard. It's dimly lit, but not so dark that people can't see who they're talking to. The materials for the interior design are top-tier. Real marble, brushed metal, custom leather seating. Everything is clean and polished. The music is low enough that you never have to raise your voice, and no one ever does in this place. 

Drinks aren't just high-end and expensive, they're curated to suit the taste of the elite that visit. You won't find a printed menu but bartenders already know what you want and in the case that you are feeling adventurous, it is their duty to essentially read your mind and get you what you want or else their head will be what's served. Everything is served in weighty glassware, and there's no rush. The staff is sharp, invisible until needed, and never overly friendly in the sense that they stick around to secretly eavesdrop on any of the following. 

"I heard Lady Annabelle's engagement was broken off because the Viscount caught her exchanging letters with a stablehand."

"Apparently, Lord Redgrave's fortune isn't half what it used to be — that's why his daughter's suddenly entertaining suitors she once called 'vulgar.'"

"Lady Rosalind's new diamonds? Family heirlooms, she says. But we all know the real ones were sold last season."

"The Earl's youngest son has been frequenting the opera... and not for the music, if you catch my meaning."

No one is here to be seen. It's a filter. Entry is only provided to those that the owner deems worthy of setting foot into the establishment. Everyone inside already knows everyone else, or at least knows of them. Deals happen here. So do discreet conversations and the fate of many were sealed just by a word spoken here.

"Come on, Soren. As our sworn brother, can't you just do us this one tiny favor?" 

The Whitmore twins sat at a round table with a peculiar man across them. 

The man across from them, Soren, didn't look like someone who'd be swayed by charm or the sibling's theatrics. His features were sharp, almost too precise, like they'd been sketched with a ruler. High cheekbones, a jawline that could cut glass, and pale gray eyes that didn't blink as often as they should. His hair was slicked back with surgical neatness, not a strand out of place, the kind of grooming that suggested either obsession or military discipline, probably the latter. 

A thin scar traced down from his left brow to his cheekbone like a souvenir, on full display and not hidden. His fingers were long and gloved in leather despite the warmth of the room, and he tapped them against the table in a slow, deliberate rhythm, as if counting something the rest of them couldn't hear.

He wore no visible jewelry, no flash, just a tailored charcoal suit that looked like it belonged in a private bank vault more than a closet.

"I view marriage as something serious. I will only ever marry one woman so I will have to politely decline the offer of arranged marriage with someone I have not laid eyes on in two decades but I'm sure your sister is a wonderful lady." Soren smiled. 

Alden leaned back in his chair, tossing an arm over the backrest like he owned the place—which, in a technical sense, he did indeed own this place. 

"Oh, come on, Soren," he drawled, grinning like a fox in designer shoes. "We're not asking you to marry her. Just... stall the disaster you call your brother from getting his hands on her."

Callum chimed in, chin resting on his fist. "Yeah. Do a little sabotage. Minor chaos. Something tasteful like you usually do."

Soren didn't look amused. He never really did. But his fingers stopped tapping. That alone was something.

"I've already said no," he replied evenly. "Twice."

"You said you would only marry one woman," Alden corrected, wagging a finger. "Not to attending a party, falling for her and then marrying her. There's a difference."

"I'm waiting for someone," Soren said, eyes dropping to his glass like the answer was written in the condensation. 

Callum raised an eyebrow and looked around. "Here? At the bar?"

Alden smacked him on the back of his head and called him an idiot under his breath. 

Soren didn't provide an answer to Callum's question. 

Alden turned to Soren whistled low, then exchanged a look with his twin. "Interesting. Well then," he said slowly, "let's call this a warm-up. You crash the engagement party, rattle a few cages, and you'll be doing us a favor and practicing your charm. Double win."

"I don't need practice," Soren said flatly.

Callum smirked. "Right. Of course not. But even you can admit that a little destruction is good for the soul."

Soren looked at them both, silent for a beat too long. Then he reached for his glass, drained it, and set it down quietly.

"I'll attend," he said. "But only because I have nothing to do that day."

Alden grinned. "Of course, it is only because you have nothing on agenda."

Callum raised his glass to clink against Soren's. "Consider this as us owing you one."

Soren picked up another glass from the tray the waiter who just happened to walk by was carrying and clinked glasses with the brothers.