The Not So Good Guy Series

Linus made his way to his manor just beyond the castle walls, the path familiar yet never quite feeling like home. Though the royal family had taken him in as a young boy, he was never truly accepted as one of their own. It was King Aldric's father, King Ronan, who had brought him into the fold. Still, even then, Linus had been relegated to the fringes of the royal household, inhabiting one of the outhouses typically reserved for emissaries and visiting dignitaries. He was groomed to serve the family, not to belong to it—a reminder of his place in this world of kings and queens.

As he approached the manor, its modest stone walls standing in stark contrast to the castle's grandeur behind him, Linus saw Marcus waiting by the door. Ever the watchful companion, Marcus stood with arms folded, his expression as inscrutable as always. He knew Linus well enough to recognize when something of significance had occurred.

"Marcus," Linus greeted, his tone composed but carrying an unspoken urgency. "We've been given our orders. Start packing the essentials. We leave for Thornfield at first light."

Marcus gave a slight nod, unflinching in his loyalty. "Understood," he replied, his voice calm, mirroring the pragmatism that had always marked their partnership. Without further question, he turned and entered the manor as he began gathering their belongings.

Linus lingered outside momentarily, his gaze drifting to the castle's towering spires, barely visible against the dimming twilight. The memories of his youth flickered like the torches that lined the castle walls—moments of training, of serving, of being reminded time and again that he was there to serve a purpose, never to be embraced as family.

However, those were in the past. His mind shifted to the challenges ahead. Thornfield was not just another assignment but a key move in the larger game. Every action he took would need to be carefully considered, every decision weighed for its impact on the delicate balance within the kingdom.

Later that night, Mara came to visit Linus while he was having dinner. She stood at the doorway, her presence as commanding as her reputation.

At nineteen, her silky black hair cascaded straight and smooth down to her lower back. Her big black eyes, framed by long lashes, gazed confidently ahead, their expressiveness mirroring her determined features. Her lips were full and pouty, contrasting beautifully against her flawless, fresh complexion. Mara's petite frame was a captivating blend of softness and allure, with a slender waist that flowed into gentle curves. Her fit figure and the youthful shape of her back exuded an irresistible charm. At the same time, the fullness of her breasts hinted at a tantalizing innocence, creating an enchanting aura of untouched beauty.

She was dressed in her signature attire—a vivid red top that complemented her fiery spirit and a stark black skirt that added an edge to her appearance. At her side, a sword hung in its scabbard, the hilt emitting a faint orange glimmer that pulsed with an almost ethereal energy. The glow from the sword cast subtle reflections on the floor beneath her, reminding Linus of the latent power she carried, both within herself and in the weapon that never strayed far from her side.

She embodied the dual nature of her being: both a warrior and a vision of youthful grace.

Linus, momentarily taken aback by her sudden appearance, couldn't help but acknowledge Mara's striking presence. Despite the complexities of her family dynamics and the shadow of their shared history, Mara's resilience and unwavering spirit commanded a calculated respect. Her beauty, however, sparked a different kind of interest in Linus, one that he masked behind a composed facade.

"Princess Mara," Linus acknowledged, his composure quickly returning. "I wasn't expecting anyone tonight, least of all you."

Mara's response was direct, her voice carrying the strength of her convictions. "I know you leave at dawn."

Linus stepped aside with a silent assent. As Mara entered, the room seemed to shrink in comparison to the magnitude of her presence. Every step she took was a testament to her disciplined life and the battles she faced, both on and off the field.

Mara wasted no time in addressing the purpose of her visit.

"I will not be traveling with you tomorrow. I will join you later in the day at Thornfield," she stated plainly, her tone leaving no room for debate. It was a declaration, not a discussion. Mara's straightforwardness, a hallmark of her character, reflected her lack of social finesse. Linus noticed this with a calculating mind, acknowledging her direct honesty as a strength and a vulnerability.

She then moved to the core of her concerns, her gaze fixed on Linus, searching for truth in the depths of his eyes. "Do you understand why we are being sent away?" she asked, her voice steady yet hinting at a touch of uncertainty.

Linus met her gaze, his expression thoughtful. "Yes, Princess," he replied, choosing his words carefully. "We are being moved to Thornfield to distance us from the capital and to ensure Alexander's succession goes smoothly. Your presence, your strength, they are both seen as potential threats to his consolidation of power." He watched her reaction closely, considering how he might use her feelings and situation to his advantage.

Mara's eyes darkened with understanding and a touch of resentment. "So, we are pawns in his game."

Linus nodded, a faint smile playing on his lips. "It's true, and we all have our roles to play in this game. How we maneuver within those roles defines our true strength." His words were meant to provoke thought and, perhaps, align her interests more closely with his own. After receiving Linus's response, Mara held his gaze for a moment longer, searching for any hint of doubt or fear. Finding none, she saw in his eyes a reflection of her own resolve, a mirrored determination that transcended the need for verbal confirmation. She couldn't quite place it, but something in his eyes made her wary—a cold calculation masked by his calm demeanor.

Mara didn't trust anyone—least of all men. Her experiences had shown her that trust was a privilege she couldn't indulge in, especially in a world where betrayal frequently masqueraded as compassion. And yet, if there was one person in the royal court she understood better than most, it was Linus. While the rest of the royals dismissed him as a mere accountant, a harmless fool unfit for the rigors of politics or battle, Mara knew the truth. She saw through the mask of mediocrity he wore so convincingly.

She had witnessed his sharp mind at work, his ability to dissect a situation with ruthless precision, and his proficiency in martial arts—despite his lack of elemental affinity in a world where magic defined strength.

In this realm, only a select few could harness magic, and even they required an artifact or weapon to channel their powers effectively. The nature of mana within a person dictated which weapons they could wield and which elemental magics they could command. These individuals, known as the Channeled, wielded weapons that embodied the elements—fire, water, earth, wind, and more.

Linus's limited connection to elemental forces meant he was often overlooked in matters of combat and power. Still, Mara had seen his skill firsthand, unburdened by the assumptions that shackled others.

Her mistrust of men ran deeper still when it came to Linus, given his lustful nature. She'd caught the way his eyes lingered just a second too long, the way he masked desire behind that calm, calculating facade. But if there was one man she could trust, even if only a fraction, it was him. He was the only one who had ever stood by her when others would have turned away. After her mother's death when they were children, Linus saved her more than once from dangers lurking within her own family. There had been moments where siding against her would have earned him a favor, even power—but he hadn't. And that loyalty, rare and unspoken, had forged an unsteady but undeniable bond between them.

With a final look that spoke volumes, Mara turned and left Linus's room, her mind swirling with thoughts of strategy and survival. She couldn't afford to trust him completely, but she could acknowledge the strange alliance they shared. Even a small degree of trust was a valuable currency in the treacherous waters of royal politics.

Linus watched Mara as she exited, his eyes lingering on her form. Her departure was marked by the grace and strength that characterized her every movement. In the privacy of his thoughts, he acknowledged the striking figure she cut, a blend of formidable warrior and undeniable beauty. But beyond her physical allure, he saw an opportunity—a tool to be wielded. Her resolve and beauty were assets he could exploit, a means to further his own ambitions.

Linus allowed himself a rare, genuine smile as the door closed behind her. He had learned long ago that every relationship was a transaction, every bond an opportunity.