Reborn as the Last van Ambrose

Julius watched Grim disappear down the corridor with the Archmage. Only when they were out of sight did he turn to Lord Draykar, who was still flushed with indignation. "Control yourself," Julius said quietly. "Such obvious displays of emotion are unbecoming."

Draykar drew himself up, straightening his expensive robes. "That insolent whelp should be taught his place. Lapdog.... My house has been a respected pillar of society for three generations!"

"Three generations," Julius repeated with the barest hint of amusement. "Practically ancient history."

Lord Draykar missed the subtle mockery, too consumed with his wounded pride. "We should lodge a formal complaint with the tournament committee. His behavior outside the arena...."

"Is irrelevant," Julius cut him off. "We have more effective ways to address the Ambrose problem."

He gestured for Draykar to follow him into a small antechamber off the main corridor.

"What concerns me," Julius continued, "is not the boy’s rudeness but his unexpected acquisition of resources."

Draykar’s brow furrowed. "Resources? The Ambrose accounts remain largely frozen. The restoration of his title granted him only nominal access to..."

"Not financial resources," Julius interrupted, impatience edging his tone. "His appearance at the palace today is significant. He’s seeking something specific."

"The old Ambrose vault," Draykar said, understanding dawning. "But that’s impossible. The vault requires..."