Chapter6: Gentle flower and shadow boy
POV: Lord Caedric Virelles | Seraphina Age 12 | Sylas Age 12
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Lord Caedric Virelles poured the tea himself.
It was a quiet courtesy, unusual for most noblemen of his rank. But in this house, tradition bowed to insight. He had found that the smallest gestures often revealed the most about the men across from him.
Across the table, Lord Thareon Eriden didn't touch the cup immediately. He merely watched the steam rise, his dark eyes still, calculating.
Caedric sipped calmly and began.
> "You've requested a private audience, Thareon. That alone tells me you're not here to beg, boast, or barter without thought."
Thareon's mouth twitched faintly. "Then I'm relieved I've retained some reputation."
> "Some," Caedric agreed. "Speak, then. What brings House Eriden crawling to mine?"
The insult was mild, almost playful — but the edge was there.
Thareon didn't react.
> "I'm offering my son," he said bluntly. "Sylas. Twelve. Obedient. Book-trained. He'll serve as your daughter's personal butler for the next three years."
Caedric raised one eyebrow — not at the offer, but at the speed of it.
> "A son, not a retainer?"
> "Blood's no use if it doesn't serve."
The answer was cold, precise. Not cruel — but entirely devoid of warmth.
Caedric set his cup down and leaned back.
> "Why Seraphina?"
> "Because she's too soft."
Caedric's gaze sharpened slightly.
> "Explain."
> "You know what she is," Thareon continued. "Gentle. Polite. Smiles too easily. Apologizes too quickly. She's a flower in a thorn garden."
Caedric said nothing.
> "She'll be sent to court in three years," Thareon continued. "She'll be surrounded by children who've been bred to lie, duel, manipulate, conquer. The heirs of old houses. Cold-eyed creatures in silk."
He paused.
> "And she will greet them with tea and try to befriend them."
Caedric exhaled slowly through his nose. "You believe she won't survive."
> "I believe she will — barely. And only if she has a shadow behind her. Someone who doesn't need to be thanked. Someone no one sees coming."
> "And you're offering Sylas."
> "He's silent. Observant. Trained to listen, not speak. More importantly, he has no sense of ambition. That makes him safe."
Caedric leaned forward slightly.
> "You'd place your own son in servitude. Why?"
> "Because he's useless as a noble, and valuable as a ghost."
The words hung in the air.
No emotion. Just strategy.
Caedric's fingers drummed once on the armrest of his chair.
> "Tell me about him."
Thareon didn't hesitate.
> "Reads constantly. Doesn't ask for anything. Failed three sword tutors, but memorized etiquette scrolls without being told. Never once disobeyed a direct order."
> "And emotionally?"
> "Irrelevant."
> "Not to me," Caedric said sharply.
Thareon tilted his head. "Why?"
> "Because my daughter isn't a strategist. She's a child."
Now it was Thareon who blinked — not in confusion, but in faint disapproval.
> "Seraphina leads with kindness. That's not a weakness," Caedric continued. "It's a risk, yes. But it's also her greatest strength. She softens the cruel. She earns loyalty, not fear."
He stood now, slowly walking toward the tall windows.
Outside, in the courtyard, Seraphina was laughing softly with one of her maids, holding a dove in her hands like it was a fragile miracle.
> "She's not meant to rule through domination," Caedric said. "She's meant to change how things are ruled."
> "Then she'll be eaten alive," Thareon replied, standing as well.
> "Unless someone stops the wolves before they reach her."
Silence.
Then Caedric turned to face him again.
> "And you believe Sylas is the one to do that?"
> "Not with blades. But with silence. With attention. With loyalty that doesn't beg for reward. He'll follow her. Protect her. Learn her world better than she knows it herself."
> "And what does he gain?"
Thareon's eyes didn't blink. "A purpose."
Caedric studied him for a long time.
Then said softly:
> "You've never hugged him, have you?"
> "Irrelevant."
> "To him, maybe not."
They stood in silence a while longer.
Finally, Caedric returned to the table and sat.
> "Very well. Send him next week. He will serve for three years under my household's name. He will wear our crest. He will answer to Seraphina directly."
> "Accepted."
> "And if she grows attached?"
> "That's your problem, not mine."
> "And if he grows attached?"
> "Then break him."
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Later that evening…
Seraphina sat on her window ledge, sketching birds in her notebook.
Caedric stepped inside her room, silent as usual.
> "Father?"
> "You're getting a new attendant. A boy. Sylas Eriden."
> "Will he be kind?"
> "I don't know. But he will be yours to command."
She smiled. "Then I'll ask him nicely."
He didn't stop her.
Because sometimes, kindness was the only sword worth drawing.
End of chapter