Reborn as the Last van Ambrose

Every eye in the council chamber remained fixed on the advancing mist as it curled around the table legs and feet of the chairs. The temperature continued to drop, breath now visible in small clouds.

"What the fuck are you all looking at?"

The voice came from beside them. Fifteen noble heads whipped around simultaneously toward the sound.

Grim Van Ambrose sat lounging in the previously empty Ambrose seat, one leg casually draped over the armrest. His hood was pulled back, revealing his scarred face and the faintest smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

The mist that had been spreading across the floor began to recede, flowing back toward him like water finding its level, disappearing into the hem of his robes.

"How...." Lord Terras sputtered, half-rising from his seat.

"Shut up and sit down," Grim said, not bothering to look at the man. "The adults are talking."

Chancellor Levenhart spoke next. "This is a closed council meeting. You were not invited, Lord Ambrose."

"Lord Ambrose?" Grim’s eyebrows rose. "So you acknowledge my claim to the title, then? How fucking convenient."

"You have no right to that seat," Lord Terras declared, his face purpling with rage.

Grim finally deigned to look at him, his expression was one of bored contempt. "Actually, I have every right. Unless someone in this room can produce a document showing House Ambrose was formally dissolved. Which you can’t, because my father never signed the necessary papers before he... departed."

Archmage Marcus lowered his hands, the protective sigils fading as he studied Grim with undisguised fascination. "How long have you been in this room?"

"Long enough to hear you all discussing me like I’m some kind of problem to solve," Grim replied, straightening in his seat. "Surveillance? Really? That’s your answer to everything, isn’t it?"

Empress Alexia began to speak. "You’ve been absent for twelve years, presumed dead. You return unannounced, enter a high-stakes tournament under false pretenses, and now infiltrate a secure council meeting. Surely you understand our caution."

"False pretenses?" Grim laughed, a sharp sound devoid of humor. "I registered under my own name. Not my fault your security is shit."

Lord Julius Luminaris cleared his throat. "You initially registered as Cassius Van Ambrose. That is demonstrably false."

"I registered as a Van Ambrose. Its not my fault your register got it wrong." Grim said with a dismissive wave. "Besides, I believe I’m entitled to use my grandfather’s name, given that I’m the only living relative he has. Had."

"What do you want, Grim?" Princess Liona asked quietly, speaking directly to him for the first time. Something in her voice caused his expression to shift.

Grim held her gaze for a moment before turning his attention back to the council at large. "What I want is simple. First, the Terras family will pay their debt to me. Twelve years of compound interest on the wager your son lost, Lord Terras. By my calculation, that comes to approximately forty thousand imperial crowns."

"Preposterous!" Lord Terras exclaimed.

"Actually," Chancellor Levenhart interjected, "gambling debts are legally binding in the Empire, and the evidence of the wager was well-documented at the time."

Grim continued as if there had been no interruption. "Second, I want formal recognition of House Ambrose’s reinstated status and the return of all properties and holdings that were illegally distributed after my supposed death."

Lady Mei leaned forward. "Those properties were allocated according to imperial law after a seven-year period with no heir present."

"I was very much present," Grim countered. "Just not here. And since no body was ever formally identified. Just some charred remains that could have been anyone. The seven-year rule shouldn’t apply. But I’m willing to be reasonable about this. I only want the ancestral estate and the primary holdings in the capital. The rest," he shrugged, "consider it a gift."

Several noble heads nodded slightly. It was a surprisingly moderate request, given the circumstances.

"And third," Grim said, his voice hardening as he fixed his gaze on Empress Alexia, "I want the key."

A ripple of confusion passed through the council members. Lady Thorne frowned. "What key?"

Empress Alexia’s expression remained carefully neutral. "I don’t know what you’re referring to."

"Bullshit," Grim said flatly. "You know exactly what I’m talking about. The key to the Ambrose vault beneath the palace. The one my great-grandfather entrusted to the Crown for safekeeping."

Archmage Marcus exchanged a glance with the Empress. "That vault was sealed centuries ago. Its contents are..."

Grim slammed his fist on the table. "Mine," Grim interrupted. "By right of blood and succession. You can either give me the key now, or I can win this tournament and use my request to demand it publicly. Your choice."

A tense silence fell over the chamber. Empress Alexia studied Grim carefully, as if seeing him properly for the first time.

"And if I refuse both options?" she asked.

Grim’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. "Then we’ll have problems. And trust me, Your Majesty, you don’t want the kind of problems I can create."

"Is that a threat against the Crown?" Lord Julius demanded.

"It’s a statement of fact," Grim replied calmly. "I spent twelve years learning things you can’t imagine. The Celestial Mist techniques you saw today? That’s the least of what I can do."

"That sounds very much like a threat," Lord Julius insisted.

Grim rolled his eyes. "Use whatever words make you feel better, Julius. Doesn’t change the reality of the situation."

"And what reality is that?" Empress Alexia asked.

"That I’m back. That I’m owed. And that I have no intention of disappearing again." Grim’s gaze swept the room. "You all built your little power structures on the assumption I was dead. Bad fucking assumption."

Chancellor Levenhart stepped forward. "Your requests will need to be formally submitted and reviewed according to imperial protocol. Even if your claims are legitimate...."

"They are."

"...even so, there are procedures that must be followed."

Grim sighed dramatically. "Fine. Submit your forms. Hold your reviews. I’ll play along with your bureaucratic bullshit—for now. But the tournament continues tomorrow, and I fully intend to win it."

"And if you don’t?" Lady Thorne asked, one perfectly shaped eyebrow raised in challenge.

Grim’s smile turned predatory. "I will."

Grim rose from his seat. "Consider this meeting a courtesy. I could have simply taken what’s mine, but I have more resoect than some people." His gaze lingered briefly on Princess Liona. "Some traditions, anyway."

Liona met his eyes without flinching, though a faint blush crept across her cheeks. For a moment, something unspoken passed between them. A current of recognition, of shared history, of things left unsaid twelve years ago.

"This council is not dismissed," Empress Alexia stated firmly, drawing Grim’s attention back to her. "You may have claimed your seat, Lord Ambrose, but you do not dictate the terms of these proceedings."

"Of course not," Grim agreed with mock deference. "That’s your job, Your Majesty. I’m merely offering suggestions." He moved toward the door, each step silent on the marble floor. "Oh, and Lord Terras? I expect the first installment of your debt by tomorrow evening. Ten thousand crowns should do for now."

Lord Terras’s face contorted with fury, but before he could respond, Grim had reached the doors. They swung open at his approach without being touched.

He paused at the threshold, turning back to face the council one last time. His eyes found Liona’s across the room, and for the briefest moment, his expression softened into something almost vulnerable.

"It was good seeing you again, Princess," he said, his voice gentler than it had been at any point during the meeting. "The hairpin suits you."

Then he was gone, the doors swinging shut behind him, leaving fifteen noble houses and their Empress in stunned silence.

Liona’s fingers rose unconsciously to touch the sapphire pin in her hair, her eyes still fixed on the space where Grim had stood.

"Well," Lady Mei said finally, breaking the silence. "I think it’s safe to say House Ambrose is officially back from the dead."