Chapter 4 - The Gallery of Glass
The long gallery of the Vosa estate was built for grand statements. High vaulted ceilings, gold-leaf mirrors, and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the misty harbor.
Tonight, it smelled of lilies and expensive wine.
Seventy guests filled the room—nobles from the upper city, harbor bosses, and the high leadership of the Drazza syndicate. Lord Drazza, a heavy man with silver rings on every finger and eyes like a hawk, stood near the raised dais, laughing with Casian over a glass of vintage brandy.
Beside them stood Zora Drazza, draped in white silk and pearls. She was beautiful, poised, and utterly cold—a woman raised in the same blood-stained politics as Saurin.
"A fine turnout, Casian," Lord Drazza smiled, swirling his glass. "Where is our groom? The ceremony begins in twenty minutes."
"Lord Vosa is making his final preparations, my Lord," Casian said smoothly, checking his gold pocket watch. "He is... particular about his timing."
"Indeed," Drazza sneered softly. "Let us hope he enjoys the toast. It will be his last."
Casian offered a small, oily smile and bowed. "The guards at the south gate have been adjusted as requested. Once the toast is raised, your men will enter through the east kitchen. The dog has been... disposed of."
"Good," Drazza grunted. "A pity about the boy's hound, but sentimentality has no place in our business."
The double oak doors at the end of the gallery swung open.
The music ceased immediately.
Saurin Vosa walked into the room.
He wore no wedding white. He wore dark gray velvet, tailored like armor, a silver-hilted saber at his hip, and a heavy wool cloak draped over his shoulders. His face was set in hard, cold stone.
Beside him walked no grand entourage.
On his left was Vuk. The dog wore no collar, his scarred chest broad and proud, his golden eyes sweeping the room like a predator assessing a herd.
On his right walked Vesna.
The crowd gasped softly.
She was not in a maid’s uniform. She wore a gown of deep emerald silk that covered her bandaged side, her dark hair pinned up with silver pins, revealing the long, elegant line of her neck. Though her face was pale, her step was steady, her dark eyes fixed straight ahead.
Casian’s pocket watch snapped shut in his hand. His eyes bulged. "What... what is this?"
Saurin walked up the center aisle, the guests parting like water before a bow wave. He stopped ten feet from Lord Drazza and Casian.
"Saurin?" Zora Drazza frowned, stepping forward. "Who is this girl? What is the meaning of this spectacle?"
"This spectacle, Zora, is a funeral," Saurin said softly, his deep voice carrying to every corner of the silent hall. "Though I have not yet decided whose bodies will fill the coffins."
Lord Drazza’s hand drifted toward his coat. "Are you mad, Vosa? You insult my daughter? You bring a stray hound and a servant to our wedding table?"
"I bring the witnesses to your treason," Saurin replied smoothly.
He waved his hand. From the balcony above, twenty of Saurin’s most loyal enforcement men—men brought in from the southern docks three hours ago, men Casian did not know—appeared, their heavy carbines trained directly on the Drazza delegation below.
Panic rippled through the guests. Women cried out; men reached for concealed weapons, only to freeze under the red glare of the gun sight lasers.
"Casian," Saurin said, turning his gaze onto his major domo. "You served my father for twenty years. You carried my brother's coffin to the grave."
Casian trembled, his polite smile finally shattering into a grotesque mask of fear. "Saurin... I... I don't know what lies this girl has told you—"
"She told me nothing," Saurin interrupted. "She simply bled on my floor while holding the poison you ordered her to give my brother's dog."
Saurin reached into his coat and tossed a heavy leather ledger onto the marble floor at Casian’s feet.
"Your private offshore accounts in the northern banks," Saurin said softly. "Transfers signed by Lord Drazza dating back two years. The night Radu was shot in the stairwell... the hitmen were tipped off by an insider who knew his exact route. It was you, wasn't it, Casian?"
Casian fell to his knees, his face pale as chalk. "They... they offered me half the shipping profits, Saurin! You were young, reckless... you were going to ruin us!"
"Radu was nineteen," Saurin’s voice cracked slightly, the only sign of the violent storm raging inside him. "He was a child."
Lord Drazza sneered, dropping his polite facade completely. "So you figured it out, Vosa. It changes nothing! My men surround this estate. If I do not walk out of this hall in ten minutes, my harbor captains will burn your fleet to the waterline!"
"Your harbor captains are currently tied up in the hold of my flagship, Lord Drazza," Saurin said coldly. "And your men at the south gate... were greeted by Vuk."
The dog let out a sharp, resonant bark that echoed off the high glass windows.
Drazza went pale. He drew a small pearl-handled pistol from his vest, pointing it straight at Saurin's heart. "You arrogant bastard—"
BANG.
A single shot echoed from the balcony.
Lord Drazza dropped his gun, screaming as his hand shattered. He fell to the marble floor, clutching his wrist, blood pooling around his gold rings.
Saurin didn't even flinch. He stepped over Drazza’s writhing body and stopped in front of Casian, who was weeping openly on his knees.
"Take them," Saurin ordered his men softly. "Drazza, his daughter, and every lieutenant in this room. Put them in the lower cellars until the authorities arrive. Except Casian."
Saurin looked down at the major domo.
"Casian stays with Vuk."
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The dog stepped forward, a deep, terrifying growl rumbling from his chest as he locked eyes with the man who had betrayed his master. Casian’s screams filled the gallery as the guards dragged the rest of the traitors away.
Saurin turned to the terrified guests. "The wedding is canceled," he said smoothly, resting his hands on his cane. "Please enjoy the food on your way out."
