Chaos' Heir-Novel

Khan was almost sure that countless calls would follow, but his phone remained silent. He stared at the empty screen as if orders would arrive at any second, but no one contacted him.

'I did a good thing, right?' Khan wondered. 'Right?'

The call had been too short to learn about Rick's current status, but he remained a noble. Khan was experiencing first-hand the problems connected to relationships with someone at Monica's level. It stood to reason that Rick and Lucille would have it far worse.

'Maybe they'll let Rick do as he wishes to keep him out of the main family,' Khan considered. 'I couldn't help myself, could I?'

Khan sighed deeply, putting the matter in the back of his mind and storing his phone. The Niqols' ways had shaped his life, so he couldn't go against them. He could only hope that things would work out for Rick.

The return to the main hall showed a quiet environment. George was bored out of his mind without his drinks, and Anita couldn't face Monica due to her unclear position. As for Monica, she madly browsed her phone, looking for answers and news that the network couldn't provide.

"So?" George exclaimed as soon as Khan limped into the main hall.

"I might have caused a political incident," Khan revealed. "Love truly is my weakness."

"Problematic love is," George scoffed, and noticing Anita's glare made him spread his arms. "What? His record is my witness."

"Khan?" Monica voiced in a worried tone, peeking past the couch to follow Khan's return to her side.

"It should be fine," Khan summarized. "I don't know how much it will do, but I secured another ally."

Monica wanted to be happy, but her education made her aware of the issues connected to the topic. Khan was calling in favors that could have otherwise helped his career or other aspects of his life. Seeing him exhausting his resources for his relationship filled Monica with guilt.

"You are overthinking this again, aren't you?" Khan scolded, seizing Monica's nose to pull her closer. "You aren't only worth the trouble. This is something I need to do for myself."

Monica usually complained at that gesture, but her expression remained still. She limited herself to looking at Khan, holding the tears back to show nothing but love.

"I can't do much now," Monica muttered, her voice cracking a few times, "But, once we get past this, I'll involve my family and secure your status. I'll threaten to leave them if they ask anything in return."

Monica's statement took into consideration their situation. Her parents would get in the way if she tried to do anything now. However, if Khan could stand his ground against enemy factions, the couple could gain some leverage and value in the political world.

"But you would lose your status," Khan pointed out. "I don't know if I'll find you attractive without your money."

Monica didn't play along. She only showed a faint smile. She had long since learnt to love Khan's stupid jokes, and they had a reassuring effect now.

"Let's just go to bed," Monica suggested, seizing the hand on her nose to free herself. "My Captain must be tired after so much politics."

"On that," George announced, leaving his couch, "I agree. Resting is a vital part of our daily lives."

"How much do you even miss drinking?" Anita shook her head but also left the couch.

"That's code for sex," George explained. "It was an easy guess."

"You-!" Anita gasped. "Don't say that stuff in front of our friends!"

"Right," George snickered, looking at Khan and Monica. "We really have to mind our decorum with them."

"Get better soon, George," Monica saluted, "And thank you again for yesterday."

"Take care of him for us," Khan stated, eyeing Anita. "We'll talk more tomorrow."

"I will," Anita promised, taking George's elbow and wearing a helpless expression. "No."

"I didn't say anything," George complained.

"No," Anita repeated. "Let's go home now. I know you are hurting."

George could only give up before Anita's concerned face, and nods unfolded as the couple left the main hall. The elevator soon opened and closed, bringing privacy to the flat.

"I wonder," Khan voiced, staring longingly at the elevator room. "Did they grow closer because they found a solution or because they know it's ending?"

Monica didn't like that topic, but the two had already gone over it. They couldn't make decisions for George and Anita, and their problems were too big to think about others.

"You see so much," Monica whispered, letting go of Khan's hand to turn his face toward her. "Don't turn it into a curse."

"Is this the time when you tell me to look only at you?" Khan teased.

"I want my Captain all for myself," Monica revealed, "Every minute of every day. Even now that we are facing so many problems, I can't stop burning."

Monica's hands and her mana confirmed her words. The situation saddened her but seeing Khan claiming his rightful political position was too appealing.

"I had such a bad influence on you," Khan stated.

"Influence me more," Monica almost begged. "Mark me so deeply anyone would be able to tell I'm yours with a single glance."

The temptation reached its climax and attempted to break the little self-restraint Khan had managed to muster. Still, Monica stayed true to her word and interrupted the interaction before it could get in the way of Khan's goals.

"But do it later," Monica continued. "You have something else to do tonight, don't you?"

"I wonder if I should blow everything up to gain a few more seconds with you," Khan said. "I know I want to."

"Do what you must, my Captain," Monica nodded, retracting her arms and standing up to perform a bow. "I'll wait for you on our bed."

Monica began to leave the array of couches, but her self-restraint faltered for a second, making her lean toward Khan to whisper in his ear.

"I'll wear the thing you like," Monica's seductive tone invaded Khan's thoughts. "I hope you won't make your good girl wait too long, dear."

Monica had to hurry outside the main hall afterward since her arousal threatened to explode, and Khan had to thank her for that. He was in a similar state, and looking at the sealed corridor made those feelings add power to his firm stance.

Khan stood up and approached the sealed corridor to unlock it. Andrew was still awake, performing a military salute before Francis' room. His attention had never faltered, and even Khan's arrival didn't distract him.

"Mister Alstair never left his room, sir," Andrew stated.

"Good job," Khan praised. "Get some rest now."

"Sir, thank you, sir!" Andrew shouted, facing Khan to perform another military salute before heading toward an empty bedroom.

Khan waited for the door to close before limping toward Francis' bedroom. No hesitation showed its presence when his fingers reached the metal surface. The entrance opened, and a stern feeling blew on Khan's face as the place's synthetic mana mixed with the symphony.

Francis was still awake, and Khan's arrival didn't interrupt his meditative state. The man was sitting cross-legged at the bed's edge while wearing the elegant clothes from the previous night. Empty trays of food occupied the floor, but Khan noticed how the bottle of booze was still sealed.

"I need that meeting," Khan eventually stated, uncaring that he might disturb Francis' meditation.

"I contacted the factions I could reach," Francis replied without breaking his cross-legged stance. "They are still refusing."

"Maybe you should remind them about my threat," Khan said. "Your head is at stake here."

"I told them," Francis revealed. "They ignored it."

"Maybe sending a few fingers will make them take me seriously," Khan threatened.

Francis didn't react to the threat, and his mana remained calm. He showed no fear or resolve, but that wasn't a result of his guts. Khan saw nothing more than an empty shell when he looked at Francis.

"Pitiful," Khan scoffed. "They used you as a puppet for their schemes. Being angry is the least you could do."

"They turned me into a puppet because I'm useless," Francis said, finally opening his eyes to stare at the empty wall. "It's what I deserve."

"For your information," Khan uttered. "Monica didn't choose me over you. You were never on her list."

"I know," Francis weakly muttered. "I don't blame her. I wouldn't be with myself either after what I did to her."

"At least you realize this," Khan vaguely praised. "If you survive, you'll get away with an important lesson."

"I'm not as dumb as I look," Francis declared. "I knew what I was doing. I wish to blame my family's pressuring me to get Monica, but that would only add shame to my character."

Khan felt no pity for Francis. Part of his mind was already set on killing him. However, he had learnt the difficulties that wealthy descendants faced during the past months, so he could understand where Francis' toxic behavior came from.

"Self-pity won't get you anywhere," Khan mocked. "Everyone sucks in one way or another. You aren't special."

"I know," Francis sighed, "But you are. I think I have envied you for a while, but I understand now. You are more of a man than I'll ever be."

"What?" Khan snorted. "Because I wave my knife better than you? Pathetic."

"You can vent on me," Francis closed his eyes again. "I deserve it."

Disappointment invaded Khan. Francis was supposed to be a wealthy descendant, but he saw nothing more than a man ready to throw his life away. He obviously didn't care what Francis did. Yet, he needed someone with a bit more guts to get the meeting.

"There was a time when I also felt like this," Khan began to say. "Powerless, empty. I wanted to lose myself so badly that I jumped into a war...."