The throne room was still closed. Duncan was ushered into an inner courtyard of the castle, where servants brought water and worn weapons for repair.
He sat on a stone bench, observing the worn blades and the tired faces of the soldiers passing by.
"You don't seem comfortable in here."
The voice was young, ironic. Duncan looked up.
Before him stood a young man in his twenties, with dark hair tied back roughly and an elegant but wrinkled jacket. His eyes were clear, intelligent, and filled with a certain melancholy.
"And who are you?" Duncan asked.
"Kael," the young man replied with a crooked smile. "The bastard son of Earl Malrow. Everyone here knows me, but no one recognizes me. A luxury, sometimes."
Duncan raised an eyebrow. "And what do you want from me?"
Kael sank onto the bench beside him, ignoring the rules of distance and formality.
"I want to know who you really are. Rumors are flying, that some blacksmith has forged an impossible weapon. I know the lies from the legends, and you… you don't seem to be lying."
Duncan was silent for a moment, then took a deep breath.
He didn't know why, but in front of this boy, he felt he shouldn't pretend.
"My name is Duncan Steel. I come from a faraway place. Too far away to be written on the maps of this world."
Kael stared at him, curious.
"And what was this place like?"
Duncan looked down at his hands, remembering the fire of his forge, the sound of the hammer, the smell of hot iron.
"It was a different world. There was no magic, no kings. Just men who worked. I… I was a blacksmith. Every day my life was iron and flame. I was not a hero. I was not a warrior. Just a man who knew how to shape steel."
Kael was silent. Then he smiled bitterly.
"Then you are like me. You don't quite belong here. I am not a true noble. You are not a true subject. Perhaps that's why we understand each other."
Duncan looked up and met the boy's eyes. In that moment, he realized he had found something rare in this hostile world: an ally.
The sound of trumpets interrupted them. The doors to the throne room swung open.
"The king awaits you," said a guard.
Duncan stood up, but before he entered, he heard Kael's voice behind him.
"Whatever that old lion asks of you… remember who you are, blacksmith. Don't let them turn you into a pawn."
Duncan nodded slowly.
And with a determined stride, he crossed the threshold.