The conversation with his mother hadn't been easy.
Noah sat at the wooden table in their small home, the remains of breakfast scattered between them while Gertrude played outside in the morning sun. His mother's hands were folded in her lap, her expression carrying that particular kind of worry that only parents seemed capable of producing.
"Dragon knights," she said quietly, testing the words like they might break in her mouth. "My son, training to become a dragon knight."
"It's an opportunity," Noah replied, keeping his voice gentle. "A real chance to make something of myself. To prove that I'm not just..."
He trailed off, but they both knew what he meant. Not just the coward's son. Not just the boy everyone had written off before he'd even had a chance.
His mother reached across the table and took his hand, her fingers rough from years of laundry work at the castle.
