The old man suddenly burst into laughter, sharp and grating.
"No. Whatever happens, you are my son."
"Of my three children, you are the most complicated."
"Smart like your mother Sabrina, with a few of my tricks up your sleeve, and a vicious streak in your bones just like your grandfather Frank's."
"Anyone who calls you weak and incompetent is blind."
"What you accomplished during the Black Death was proof enough of your ability."
The old man's tone shifted, his gaze suddenly turning as keen as an eagle's.
"But to be frank."
"You are still a long way from becoming the Archbishop of Schicksal!"
Otto lowered his eyes.
He said nothing.
The scene of the last family meeting remained etched in Otto's mind.
His father Nicholas had publicly announced that he would hand his authority over to him.
He had held his breath, waiting for what came next.
"To Ferdinando's eldest son, Marcel."
The old man's voice was frighteningly steady. "The boy is sixteen, with a heart of iron and a seasoned hand."
"Your mother and I, along with Fabian and Lisa, will all withdraw behind the scenes."
"Those fools in the Castle Council will simply think we have relinquished our core authority."
"By the time they realize Marcel is no obedient puppet, but a bloodthirsty lion..."
"Everything will already be settled."
"This is the optimal solution."
"With one small exception-allowing you to stay here and hear my terms."
Nicholas took a step forward.
The Archbishop's oppressive presence surged over him like a tide.
The air in the room seemed to solidify, suffocating him.
"Kaslana."
The old man's gaze was piercing. "They are a cancer upon Schicksal and the three great families."
"Times have changed. That family is no longer an ally."
Only then did the players realize.
The background