(3rd Person POV)

At Graustein Castle, Duke Hartvel Graustein read the report in silence.

The paper detailed Delly Wulf’s detained status, the charges, the circumstances. His green eyes moved across it once. Then a thin blade of wind magic cut through it, and the pieces scattered to the floor.

Aldous, Delly’s butler, knelt before him and said nothing. He had learned long ago that silence was the safest posture when the Duke was thinking.

"Delly Wulf has been useful to the Legion Swords," Hartvel said, his voice unhurried. "Ten years of service. That counts for something." He let the pause stretch. "But his value has been declining. Why should I spend political capital rescuing a man who has consistently failed to produce results? I’ve invested in him. I’ve seen almost nothing back."

Aldous chose his words with care. "My lord — Delly’s plan was progressing. The setback came from an outside variable. A merchant who appeared in Eisen City without warning — Arthur Pendragon. He established a company called Hellfire and purchased the Eastern Theatre from its previous owner, Lykan."

He continued. "The Eastern Theatre had been Master Delly’s primary target — the largest venue in the city, fallen on hard times, and therefore obtainable. This Arthur moved first. And once he had the building, he introduced something called a ’film’ to the city. A method of storytelling that surpassed theatre entirely. The people were captivated. Completely."

"Because of that, Master Delly’s theatres began hemorrhaging patrons. His profits fell. And the plan he had spent years building — consolidating every theatre in Eisen City before converting them into exclusive establishments for noble clientele — collapsed at the foundation."

Hartvel’s expression didn’t change, but something in it sharpened. "Why did he need all the theatres before making a move? Why not simply convert the ones he already held?"

Aldous hesitated. "The Eastern Theatre would have remained a competitor. If Master Delly had transformed his venues into gambling houses and private clubs while that theatre still operated freely, the common people would simply have gone there instead. He needed to eliminate the alternative first." A pause. "And then Arthur created the film — something that made the Eastern Theatre more attractive than anything Master Delly could have offered even under ideal circumstances."

Hartvel snorted. "His planning was brittle." He waved a hand. "But that’s not what interests me. What interests me is Arthur himself. And this film." He leaned back in his chair. "I’ve been hearing about it for weeks and never seen it firsthand. That needs to change."

"We’ve looked into him," Aldous said carefully. "Arthur appears to have ties to the Merchant Guild Master in Eisen City. And with Proffelie’s involvement, it seems he may also have the Mage Guardian’s attention."

"Proffelie is old," Hartvel said. "But old doesn’t mean harmless. Especially when he’s on friendly terms with Saza."

Aldous’s expression tightened at the name. "That elf..."

"It’s too early to move against Eisen City directly," Hartvel said. "Any aggressive action there would draw eyes from Reinhardt City — the capital — and I’m not ready for that."

He drummed his fingers once against the armrest. "So. I’ll extend Delly one more chance. I’ll see to his release — but he had better understand that my patience is not a renewable resource. No more recklessness. No more overreach. I want him quiet, careful, and watching." His eyes settled at a point in the middle distance. "This Arthur and his film — there may be uses for both that go well beyond a theatre business. I want to know more before I form a judgment."

"Understood, my lord." The relief in Aldous’s voice was faint but audible. He rose and moved toward the door.

Hartvel watched him go. His fingers resumed their slow rhythm against the armrest.

"Aldous."

The butler stopped.

"You and Delly both." His voice dropped into something quieter and considerably more dangerous. "I am working toward something in the Eisenmark. Something that will take years to complete. If either of you compromise that work through carelessness — if you give the capital a reason to look this direction before I’m ready — I will remove you both myself." He said it the way a man discusses the weather. "Make sure Delly understands that clearly."

Aldous bowed low and did not speak again before leaving.

---

It had been two days since Arthur convinced Leonard to take the role in Leon: The Professional.

The casting itself had taken some doing — Leonard had needed to sit with it before he stopped looking like a man waiting for the punchline.

But once it settled, Arthur put him straight to work. The first order of business wasn’t lines or blocking. It was Leonard spending time with Elira. The dynamic between Leon and Mathilda lived or died on the relationship between the two actors, and that kind of chemistry couldn’t be manufactured in front of a camera. It had to exist first.

So far, they were getting along well enough.

On top of that, Arthur had been building something else quietly — connections among the noble class. Lukas von Eisner had turned out to be an unexpected asset in that regard. The young duke had come in to buy equipment and left wanting to understand everything. He’d called on Arthur twice since then, asking questions about the filmmaking process with the focused intensity of someone who had found his obsession and was only now realizing how deep it went. He wanted to direct. He also, apparently, wanted to act.

The man was transforming in real time into a full-blown film fanatic, and Arthur found it more useful than annoying.

He was also keeping one eye on the Delly situation.

It resolved more or less as expected. Three days after the sentencing, Delly Wulf walked out of the Knight Station. Duke Graustein had made a quiet intervention, the charges hadn’t disappeared but the detention had, and the city absorbed the development without much reaction.

Two days slipped by. Then a third. Then a fourth.

Nothing. No movement, no provocation, no noise from the Western Theatre or anywhere connected to it. Delly had gone so quiet he might as well not have existed.

’Either he’s learned his lesson,’ Arthur thought, ’or he’s planning something he doesn’t want me to see coming.’

Both were interesting possibilities.

---

While Arthur occupied himself with all of the above, Keanu and Kaiser were making themselves useful for what might have been the first time since arriving in this world.

They had taken 150 gold and made the trip south to Hartenburg City — the second major city in the Eisenmark region, sitting just below Eisen City in both geography and prestige. The objective was straightforward: find a theatre, acquire it, begin Hellfire’s expansion into a second location.

They arrived, identified the largest venue in the city — the Brennach Theatre — and did what any reasonable person would do before making a significant purchase. They bought tickets and went inside to observe.

The cast was attractive. The audience was moderate in size but attentive. The production quality was passable.

Keanu leaned over to Kaiser. "This is going to be a pain to acquire. The place is actually running."

Kaiser nodded, already doing the mental arithmetic on what a functioning theatre in a city this size would cost to buy out.

Then the scene on stage shifted.

The mood changed — the music dropped lower, slower, something almost predatory in the rhythm — and a woman walked out from the wings.

She was stunning. The kind of body that made men forget they were sitting in a public place, full-figured in all the ways that mattered, dressed in something that barely qualified as clothing — sheer fabric that clung to her curves like it was painted on, leaving the dark outline of her nipples plainly visible through the material and the shape of her ass completely undisguised with every step she took.

She moved like she knew exactly what she was doing to the room. Because she did.

The dance was slow, deliberate, obscene in the best possible way.

She rolled her hips like she was doing it specifically for the man in the worst seat in the house, ran her hands up her own body — waist, ribs, cupping her breasts and squeezing them together for the audience’s benefit with an expression that made it clear she was enjoying the attention.

The neckline of her dress dipped so low that one wrong move would have ended the performance entirely, and she kept getting very close to that wrong move.

Then she turned around, bent forward with her back arched, and dropped into a slow, grinding squat that left absolutely nothing about the shape of her ass open to speculation.

The floor erupted.

Coins hit the stage. A lot of them.

"Yes! Just like that!"

"Show us the mountains, woman!"

"Can you go a little lower!?"

Keanu and Kaiser sat completely still.

They turned and looked at each other with the synchronized expression of two people who had just realized they had walked into something that required a full reassessment of the situation.

This was not a theatre.

This was something else wearing a theatre’s clothes.