Governor Levi, an imposing man with a broad, heavy build, sat drowning in a sea of unattended paperwork, his tailored suit slightly rumpled from hours at his desk. His office, a fortress of dark wood and glowing mana lamps, hummed with the weight of his responsibilities.
"Rhea, I can’t do this anymore. I’m gonna die if I touch another page," he groaned, slumping back in his chair, his voice heavy with exhaustion.
"Sir, quit being lazy," Rhea, his diligent personal assistant, snapped, her arms crossed as she juggled her own stack of documents. "You need to finish this work ASAP, or it’ll screw up entire sectors of the economy."
"But Rhea, I’ve been at it all day!" Levi whined, his deep voice carrying a childish edge.
He and Rhea went way back—childhood friends forged in the crucible of an orphanage, leaning on each other to survive. When Levi awakened an A-grade talent, his rise to power was meteoric, and he’d brought Rhea along, hiring her as his personal assistant to keep her close. Their bond gave her the freedom to scold him without fear, a dynamic that kept his office lively.
"You wouldn’t be buried in this mess if you hadn’t ditched your duties to go raid a dungeon," Rhea said, her tone sharp with exasperation.
"Don’t blame me," Levi growled, a spark of defiance in his eyes. "I needed to blow off steam. The thrill of pounding that ogre? Pure euphoria." His face lit up as he leaned forward, caught in the memory. "That boss monster was tough, Rhea. Its regeneration was insane for a B-rank, but it couldn’t keep up with my blows forever. After the hundredth hit, it was done. Man, I’d kill to feel that rush again."
Rhea rolled her eyes, cutting him off before he could spiral into another hour-long tale of dungeon heroics. "By the way, Aaron Highborn, the son of the demi-god heroes, booked an appointment with you. He’ll be here any minute."
"Aaron?" Levi muttered, his brow furrowing. He’d met the kid once, years ago when Aaron was twelve, shortly after his parents’ deaths. The boy had left a poor impression—timid, submissive, a shadow of his valiant, fiery parents. In Blue Star, weakness invited exploitation, and Levi hadn’t spared Aaron much thought since.
Rhea’s phone chimed, the secretary’s voice crackling through with news of Aaron’s arrival.
"Is he here? Should I let him in?" Rhea asked, glancing at Levi.
"Nah," Levi said, waving a hand dismissively. "I’ve got a mountain of work. Tell him tomorrow, maybe." His tone was final, and Rhea frowned slightly but didn’t push. She knew Levi’s stubborn streak—when he used his duties as an excuse, no amount of arguing would budge him.
Rhea relayed the message to the secretary, while Levi turned back to his papers, already tuning out the conversation.
He had no interest in seeing Aaron. In his mind, the kid was probably in some petty mess, looking for Levi to clean it up or fend off bullies. Levi wasn’t about to play babysitter for a spoiled heir.
Outside, in the sleek, marble-floored lobby of the governor’s office, Aaron stood before the secretary, her polite smile doing little to mask her discomfort.
"I deeply regret to inform you, sir, but the governor is swamped and can’t see you today. Sorry for the inconvenience," she said, her voice practiced but strained.
Aaron’s eyes narrowed, a frown creasing his face. The governor was blowing him off? After he’d made a reserved appointment? His time wasn’t something to be wasted.
He wasn’t about to take no for an answer. Pulling out his phone, he raised his voice just enough for the secretary to hear, his tone sharp and deliberate. "Hello, Whisper Media? I’ve got a scoop for you. How’s this: the son of the demi-god heroes, who sacrificed their lives for this world, snubbed by Governor Levi despite a confirmed appointment." He’d secured the journalist’s contact days ago, anticipating a stunt .
The secretary’s mouth twitched, her eyes widening at Aaron’s brazen move. She hurriedly sent a message to Rhea, detailing the situation.
Rhea sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Levi, you need to meet this kid," she said, her voice tinged with defeat as she read the secretary’s message.
Levi glanced up, annoyed. "Why should I care what that brat thinks?"
"Because he’s claiming you’re refusing to see him because you’re colluding with others to siphon his parents’ wealth while leaving him high and dry," Rhea said, raising an eyebrow. Even she was stunned by Aaron’s shamelessness.
Levi’s brow shot up, surprise flickering across his face. "Seriously?" He sighed, leaning back in his chair, feeling the weight of Aaron’s gambit. A hit like that to his reputation—true or not—could be brutal, especially coming from the son of Blue Star’s revered demi-gods.
"Fine, I’ll see him," Levi grumbled, conceding defeat. Rhea nodded, informing the secretary of the change.
Aaron ended his call with a quick apology to the journalist, claiming it was a misunderstanding now that the governor had agreed to meet. A confident smirk played on his lips as he strode toward Levi’s office, his steps echoing with purpose.
Inside, Levi sat behind his imposing desk, eyeing Aaron as he entered. "So, young man, what do you want?" he asked, his tone gruff but curious. The confidence radiating from Aaron was a far cry from the timid boy he’d met years ago, and Levi’s impression of him grudgingly ticked upward.
Aaron sat across from him, unfazed, his red eyes glinting with determination. "My parents’ fund," he said, cutting straight to the point. "I did some digging and found out you’re overseeing it."
Levi’s expression darkened, his earlier spark of respect fading. "I told you that when we first met. No need for extra ’research,’" he said, his voice laced with irritation. The kid’s audacity was starting to grate.
"Whatever," Aaron replied coolly. "I want you to cut off financial support to Skyhold in one month. From now on, the money goes straight to my account."
Rhea blinked, caught off guard, while Levi sat up straighter, Aaron’s demand hitting like a sucker punch. "Why, if I may ask?" Levi said, his eyes narrowing as he studied Aaron closely.
"They’ve disrespected me at every turn," Aaron said, his tone matter-of-fact, as if stating the obvious. "No way I’m funding ungrateful bastards who treat me like dirt."
Levi’s jaw tightened. So the kid’s "joke" to the principal about pulling funds wasn’t a joke after all. Aaron Highborn was playing for keeps.