THE GENERAL'S DISGRACED HEIR

48  Chapter 48: I WANT YOU SERAPHINA.

Seraphina's jaw clenched for a moment, then she exhaled sharply, composing herself with a practised grace. "Indeed," she conceded, forcing a smile. "Apologies for the digression. Now, to the matter at hand," she continued, her voice regaining its business-like tone. "So, how much?"

A furrowed brow creased David's face. "how much?" he echoed, confusion clouding his eyes. "What in the nine hells do you mean by how much?"

A tinkling laugh escaped Seraphina, light and devoid of genuine amusement. "Don't be silly," she countered, her smile widening to reveal a hint of shark in its sweetness. Seraphina's smile faltered for a brief moment, then blossomed again, this time with a hint of flirtation. "Forgive me," she purred, her voice dripping with honeyed tones. "Perhaps I misspoke. How much Terran-gold would it take to... entice you away from your current employer?"

"Gold, huh? David thought for a while. Did he need gold...of course not, he was a noble. Probably some begging and shamelessness at that and the earl would give him a good pouch filled with Terran gold.

A flicker of amusement ignited in his eyes. "Hmm," he drawled, leaning back in his chair with a studied nonchalance. "Truth be told, I don't require coin. A bit of shameless grovelling and my dear old man might cough up a pouch or two." A snort escaped him, the sound echoing oddly in the tense silence.

"I must decline, lady. money holds little sway over one of my station."

Seraphina's smile stretched thin. "Surely, anything can be acquired for the right price," she countered, her voice losing some of its earlier sweetness. "Name it. I assure you, my coffers overflow from years of... underworld dealings." She puffed out her chest with a touch of misplaced pride.

David leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers in a gesture of contemplation. "Indeed," he mused. "But what price could you offer a noble son?"

David's words hung heavy in the air, a revelation that crashed upon Seraphina like a rogue wave. "You... you can't be serious," she stammered, her voice cracking with a mixture of disbelief and a flicker of dawning hope. In this desperate situation, why would he lie?

Seraphina recoiled, the gears of her mind whirring in an attempt to reject the absurdity of the situation. "Forgive my initial doubt, young lord," she quickly apologized, grappling with the image of a noble's son sent as an assassin to dismantle the Fingers. The more she tried to bargain for her life, the more the situation contorted into a puzzling tapestry. "May I inquire," she implored, desperation a faint tremor in her voice, "the name of such a noble house?"

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David met her gaze head-on. "Certainly. David De Gor." The name fell from his lips, each syllable a hammer blow to Seraphina's composure. Her jaw slackened momentarily, but with a swift intake of breath, she reined in her reaction.

David watched this internal battle play out on her face, impressed by her swift recovery. "Whether you believe me or not," he remarked, a hint of amusement creeping into his tone, "is of little consequence at this point."

"I believe you?" Seraphina countered, her voice surprisingly steady. "If you are truly David De Gor, then everything... well, almost everything, begins to fall into place." The straightforwardness of her conclusion surprised David, and a flicker of newfound respect sparked in his icy eyes.

 "Since you know my identity," David began, his voice dripping with menace, "I assume you're determined to take me down." He grinned ominously.

Seraphina's response remained calm, a stark contrast to the tension crackling in the air. "Not really, Young Lord," she countered, her voice smooth as polished obsidian. "The revelation changes nothing."

David's grin faltered."You do realize I'm responsible for your comrades' demise," he pressed, raising an eyebrow.

"Let's say the Fingers," she said, a hint of disdain creeping into her voice, "weren't exactly high on my list of cherished associates. One should be selective when choosing colleagues, wouldn't you agree?"

"First of all, none of the Fingers are comrades I'd risk my life for," she explained. "And second, you know I'm a seer, a cunning one at that." She continued, her gaze steady. "I can't defeat you now or in the future."

David found himself oddly captivated by her frankness. It was a refreshing departure from the usual bluster and bravado one expected from underworld figures. But it was her next words that truly sent a jolt through him.

Her awareness of his fate, her ability to not only foresee but sidestep her own demise – it spoke of a power, or perhaps an unparalleled skill, that could be incredibly valuable in the hands of the right (or wrong) person. A spark of intrigue ignited in his cold eyes, pushing aside the initial frustration and replacing it with a question that hung heavy in the air: "Tell me, Seraphina," he said, his voice tinged with newfound respect, "just how cunning a seer are you?"

A sardonic smile played on Seraphina's lips. "Anything for survival, wouldn't you agree, young lord?" she replied, her voice a steady counterpoint to David's simmering menace.

"Indeed," David conceded, his tone dripping with challenge. "Then prove your worth, Seraphina."

Her smile stretched wider, a hint of theatrical flourish returning to her demeanour. "A charm spell," she announced, her voice laced with the power of command. "A one-time shield against oblivion, woven with the very fabric of fate itself." David's eyes widened, a flicker of raw desire battling with his underlying suspicion.

"Intriguing," he finally admitted, the air crackling with unspoken tension. "But tempting offers often come with a hefty price tag, wouldn't you say?"

Seraphina's smile faltered for a moment. A nervous tremor ran through her as she began to fidget with the intricate lace on her gloves. "There… are some unforeseen consequences," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper.

David's eyes narrowed. "Unforeseen consequences. How… inconvenient." He shifted his gaze to the dagger still embedded in the table, its cold gleam mirroring the steely glint in his eyes. "Perhaps," he drawled, his voice a low rumble, "this blade would serve me better than your... charm spell."

A tremor of fear shook Seraphina's composure. Was he bluffing? Was he truly capable of such a feat? Her carefully constructed facade crumbled, revealing a bead of sweat clinging precariously to her brow.

"Money, immortality… both at your fingertips," she stammered, desperation lacing her voice. "Yet you reject them both. What more could I possibly offer that holds any value?" Her shoulders slumped, defeat whispering in her voice. Was this the end? The game over before it truly began?

A slow smile crept across David's face, a chilling mix of arrogance and avarice. "You," he breathed, his voice a mere whisper that sent shivers down Seraphina's spine. "I want you, Seraphina. Your cunning, your body, your foresight… and whatever secrets you hold close to your heart." The air grew thick with a new kind of tension, as a far more dangerous game unfolded on the moonlit chessboard before them.

A bewildered stutter escaped Seraphina's lips. "Wa-wa-wa-wa-what?" she stammered, a blush blooming on her neck and spreading like wildfire across her face. "Did you just…? You can't be serious, right?" A nervous giggle bubbled up, a desperate attempt to mask the fluttering in her chest. "Surely, you jest, young lord. Five centuries have etched their lines upon me, a far cry from the vibrant youth you might seek."

David, however, remained utterly unfazed. His glacial eyes held a glint of amusement. "And?" he countered simply, the question hanging heavy in the air.

Seraphina's eyes widened in disbelief. "Age… doesn't… bother you?" she stammered, struggling to comprehend his indifference.

"Not in the slightest," he replied, rising smoothly to his feet. His demeanour, however, remained firm, leaving no room for argument. "Unless, of course," he added, a dangerous edge creeping into his voice, "you're not interested in striking a bargain."

Seraphina swallowed hard, the weight of his words settling in. "No, no, of course I am!" she blurted out, a touch too quickly. The realization of what she'd just agreed to hit her like a rogue meteor. Before they could solidify their pact, a thunderous boom ripped through the room, the source emanating from the opposite wall.

The sudden explosion sent a shockwave through the air. David reacted with lightning speed, scooping Seraphina into his arms in a swift, princess-like carry. The unexpected intimacy sent another surge of heat rushing to her cheeks, her face turning the color of a ripe tomato. However, the playful fluster was quickly replaced by a jolt of chilling dread as the dust settled, revealing a figure all too familiar standing amidst the debris.

"Draven," Seraphina hissed, her voice laced with a mix of surprise and horror. The unexpected arrival of this powerful figure threw the newly formed alliance, and the entire room, into a precarious state of chaos.

A flicker of movement caught David's eye. A figure, shrouded in darkness, emerged from the broken wall. Could this be the final obstacle, the leader of the Fingers themselves?