Lord Rodel's eyes lingered on Aelar, sizing him up the way a coach checks if someone's got potential on the first day of tryouts. The boy wasn't huge, but there was something in the way he stood, the way his eyes darted around like he was always calculating. The kid wasn't just surviving—he was built for more.
"So, boy," Lord Rodel said suddenly, leaning back in his chair, "ever thought about training?"
The question hit Aelar like a slap. Training? Real training, not just his father's survival lessons in the middle of nowhere. His heart did a little jump, and his eyes instantly went to Rioran, silently screaming: Dad, please say yes.
Rioran saw the look and sighed, already knowing the answer. "It's for your own safety," he said, trying to sound casual but clearly fighting back a smile. "Better to learn how to use a sword properly than just… swing it around like a stick."
For the first time in years, Aelar saw hope in his father's face. It was like he was saying, Maybe this is the life you deserve, son.
"Yes! I mean… yes, Lord Rodel. I'd love that," Aelar blurted out, his voice cracking like a teenager in the middle of puberty.
Lord Rodel chuckled, the first real smile he'd shown since they arrived. "Good. Brom!" he called.
The door opened, and in came a wall of muscle wrapped in scars. Brom walked like the floor belonged to him. His face looked like it had been carved out of stone and then punched a few times for good measure.
"Why did you call for me, my lord?" Brom asked, his deep voice like rolling thunder. His sharp gaze flicked to Aelar, scanning him head to toe.
"New student," Rodel said casually, waving toward Aelar like he was pointing at a stray puppy.
Brom raised an eyebrow. "This one?"
"Yes. Look closer," Rodel replied with a knowing smirk.
Brom folded his arms, sizing the boy up again. "We'll see if he can keep up. If not, he's going to wish he'd stayed home chasing chickens."
Aelar swallowed hard, his excitement suddenly wrestling with nerves.
Then Lord Rodel leaned closer to Brom, muttering something Aelar couldn't quite hear. Brom's eyes widened like he'd just been told a celebrity was standing in front of him.
"The son of Rioran Dayan?" Brom almost choked on the words. He straightened so fast his armor clanked. The hero wasn't dead after all—he was sitting right here, and his son was about to join training.
Brom turned to Aelar, this time with respect. "I'm Brom Lorend. Starting tomorrow, I'm your teacher. Don't show up late, don't slack off, and definitely don't cry when I push you harder than the others."
Aelar nodded, fighting a nervous grin. Finally.
But before Lord Rodel could say more, the chamber doors slammed open so hard they rattled the walls.
"DAAADDDY~~!!!" a girl's voice rang out.
Everyone jumped. Rioran's hand instantly went to his hidden blade, the soldiers stiffened, and Brom actually groaned under his breath.
Lord Rodel's face went from "noble lord" to "tired single dad" in two seconds flat. "Alena! How many times have I told you not to just barge in here?!"
A young woman came skidding to a stop, hair falling out of a messy braid, training clothes covered in dirt and tree sap. She was clearly fresh from practice—or falling out of trees.
"Relax, Dad, the door's still standing," Alena shot back, rolling her eyes. Then she noticed the guests. Her gaze lingered on Aelar a bit too long.
Rodel pinched the bridge of his nose like a man who's fought this battle daily. "Please, Alena, just… go to your room for a bit."
"Nooo, I still have training!" she whined, dragging out the word.
Her maid appeared in the doorway, looking like she'd aged twenty years chasing her. "Miss Alena, we need to wash you. You stink like the stables."
Alena sniffed her sleeve, made a face, and shrugged. "Fair point. Fine." She turned to leave, but halfway out she stopped dead, eyes locking back on Aelar.
Her grin spread like wildfire. She pointed straight at him.
"DADDY! That's the cute boy I saw outside the gate earlier!"
The room went dead silent.
Lord Rodel blinked. "The… what now?" He turned toward Aelar. "Is this true?"
Aelar's face went redder than a torch flame. He immediately half-hid behind Rioran's shoulder like a kid again. "...Yes, Lord Rodel," he mumbled, wishing the floor would open up and swallow him.
Brom smirked. "Looks like training's not the only thing you'll be sweating about, boy."