Night - Orlov's Southern Citadel

  Archduke Orlov stood before the great hearth in his council chamber, watching fmes devour ancient logs. The torchlight cast his shadow long across the stone floor, stretching toward the massive oak table where his advisors waited in tense silence. His heavy velvet robes, embroidered with the traditional sigils of the Southern Reaches, rustled softly as he turned to face them.

  "It has been three months since Count Drachev departed for the northern territories," he said, his voice cold and precise. "And still no word."

  The seneschal cleared his throat. "The journey is long, my lord, especially maintaining traditional methods of travel. Even if he reached the border weeks ago, his reports would take time to return."

  Orlov's ice-blue eyes narrowed slightly. "And yet it took three weeks for our scouts' reports of strange lights in the northern skies to reach us. An unacceptable dey."

  "The mountain passes were treacherous this season, my lord," Baron Dracul offered. "And even our fastest messengers are bound by horse and torch, unlike the progressive territories with their... mechanical conveniences." He spoke the st words with distaste.

  Orlov waved a hand dismissively and approached the table where yellowed maps y spread beneath candebras crafted from human bone. His fingers traced territorial boundaries between Dante's and Seraphina's domains.

  "These unusual phenomena in the north," he mused, studying the map where Lady Ekaterina had marked the reported sightings with red ink. "According to the merchant caravans and our border observers, they coincided with increased movement between their territories." He looked up at the somber faces of his council. "Count Volkov, share your findings about the border activity."

  Volkov unrolled a separate parchment, the edges frayed from travel. "Our observers at the northeastern checkpoints report a threefold increase in official crossings between Dante and Seraphina's territories in the weeks following the light phenomena. Most curiously, many travelers bore the insignia of both houses—a highly unusual diplomatic courtesy."

  Orlov nodded grimly. "Our observers may be limited by our traditional methods, but their reports are consistent." He looked up sharply. "And now there are the missing resources."

  Lady Ekaterina nodded, her pale features solemn in the firelight. "Yes, my lord. As I reported st week, we've documented disappearances from the northern blood farms. Primarily children—the younger resources from the breeding programs."

  "Which we typically attribute to Valerian's meddling," Count Volkov added.

  "Typically, yes." Orlov's voice carried a note of contemption unusual for him. "But Valerian's operations have patterns. Predictable patterns. These disappearances feel... different."

  The council chamber remained silent as Orlov paced, the only sounds the crackle of fmes and the distant howl of a wolf beyond the citadel walls.

  "Valerian takes what he needs and leaves signs of his contempt," Orlov continued. "These disappearances are too precise, too selective. And they coincide too neatly with whatever Dante and Seraphina are engaged in at their borders."

  Baron Dracul struck the table with his fist. "The solution remains simple. Double the guards at the blood farms, execute any resource that attempts escape. Standard protocol."

  Several nobles nodded in agreement, but Orlov remained silent, studying the map with unusual intensity.

  "No," he said finally. "That treats merely the symptoms. Something fundamental has changed in the north." He straightened, his expression resolute. "We have sent Drachev through formal channels, but we need more intelligence."

  The seneschal shifted uncomfortably. "Our observers have noted unusual structures being erected near the border between their territories, my lord. Guards posted at previously unpatrolled crossings. Strange wagons with covered contents moving between them by night. We cannot confirm what transpires, but the patterns suggest some manner of joint endeavor."

  "Cooperation," Orlov nearly spat the word. "Dante's technological inclinations and Seraphina's nature obsession—both equally disgusting perversions of vampire purity." He braced his hands against the table, leaning forward. "But together? What could possibly unite those opposing philosophies?"

  Lady Ekaterina spoke carefully. "My lord, there is one other possibility we've not considered. Might Lucius have a hand in this? Perhaps some directive from the progressive faction's leader?"

  Orlov's eyes fshed with sudden interest. "An insightful observation, Lady Ekaterina." He straightened, considering this new angle. "Lucius maintains a careful bance in his territory, does he not? Supporting progressive ideals while respecting traditional forms."

  "Which makes his intentions difficult to discern, my lord," added the seneschal. "His diplomatic communications remain unfailingly polite and properly traditional."

  "Shall we attempt to infiltrate his court as well?" asked the seneschal.

  "No," Orlov replied. "Lucius is too careful, his security too thorough." He paused, considering his options. "However, we may approach this from another angle. We shall be vigint, and wait for Count Drachev's observations before determining our next course of action."

  Orlov returned his attention to the map, particurly the borders where Dante and Seraphina's territories met. "When Drachev returns—or sends his initial observations—we will know more. Until then, we watch and wait." His voice lowered as he added, "And prepare."

  "Prepare, my lord?" asked Baron Dracul, a eager gleam in his eye.

  "Not your kind of preparation, Baron," Orlov responded dryly. "Political preparation. If the progressive territories are indeed coordinating in new ways, we must be ready to respond in kind." He looked around the council chamber, meeting each advisor's gaze. "Our way of life—the true vampire way—depends on maintaining the bance of power. Any shift threatens that bance."

  As his advisors departed, Orlov remained alone in the council chamber, staring at the territory map. The carefully drawn borders between vampire domains had remained rgely unchanged for over a century, but borders were merely symbols drawn on parchment. What truly mattered were the invisible lines between ideologies—lines that had defined vampire society since the first days of the Evolution.

  If those lines were blurring between Dante and Seraphina's territories, it was concerning, but not yet a threat requiring immediate action. Count Drachev was already en route, and his observations would determine whether further steps were necessary. For now, vigince and patience would suffice.

  Outside, a wolf howled in the distance. Orlov smiled faintly at the sound. Unlike Seraphina with her precious wereanimal "research subjects," he understood the natural order. Wolves existed to hunt. Vampires existed to rule. And humans existed to provide blood—nothing more.

  That was the way it had been since the Evolution, and that was the way it would remain.

  At least in the Southern Reaches.