Before Duke Larkam could form a reply, Viscount Ravien's voice cut sharply through the chamber.
"How dare you speak so rudely to His Grace!"
Jarius did not flinch. He bow slightly, showing respect despite of his father anger.
His voice remained calm, measured, and clear.
"Forgive me, Esteemed Father."
He raised his head, meeting his father's gaze with composed conviction.
"But is this not how we, as nobles, are meant to be?"
He looked briefly between both men, then continued.
"From what we are taught… from the written law… from the histories and customs we are sworn to uphold nobility is not simply privilege."
"It is duty."
"We are meant to serve, to protect, to inspire order. If we turn a blind eye to injustice merely because of blood or title… then we are no better than brigands in silk."
He bowed his head once more, respectfully.
"If my words offend, then I accept any punishment you see fit. But I will not stand silent when your name, Father, is used to justify disgrace."
Duke Larkam smirk deepening as he leaned back slightly on his cushion.
"Oh? It seems your son is quite well-versed in noble law."
His gaze shifted to Viscount Ravien, voice smooth, edged with amusement.
"You are aware, of course… that within our noble code exists the dueling clause."
"For matters of honor between houses, when formal complaints fail, and reputations must be defended with steel rather than parchment."
He rested one arm casually over his knee, his attention turning fully toward Jarius.
"And in such duels… age is not always a shield."
"Especially for those who speak so boldly."
The words hung in the air like a blade drawn halfway from its sheath.
Viscount Ravien's eyes twitched. He shifted his posture forward slightly, his tone quickly softening.
"Ah… Your Grace, please. Let us not take this matter too far."
"The boy is still young, and surely his passion stems from inexperience rather than insult."
He bowed his head slightly, voice measured but deferential.
"I ask that you consider his words not as offense, but as youthful zeal… shaped by the ideals he so clearly clings to."
Jarius remained silent for a moment, his gaze drifting between his father and Duke Larkam.
Then, with composed grace, he bowed slightly once more.
"Very well, Your Grace."
His voice was calm, unwavering. Every syllable measured.
"If the noble code permits resolution through formal duel, then I shall abide by its ruling."
He raised his head slowly, eyes steady.
"There are… several accepted forms of duel under our law. From symbolic redress… to one-sided strikes… or combat through appointed champions, should the offended party choose."
A pause. Brief, intentional.
"If your son wishes to pursue such a path, I will not object."
He stepped back slightly, hands behind his back, posture straight.
"As sons of noble houses, we are bound to uphold honor, both in word and in consequence."
Duke Larkam's eyes widened slightly.
He hadn't expected the boy to respond with such poise… nor with such precise knowledge of noble law.
He knows.
The Duke's gaze narrowed subtly.
A formal duel between noble sons, especially under Article Twelve of the Dueling Code.
Was no simple matter.
It would be entered into the record.
Witnessed. Validated.
And once formalized… it could not be silenced.
What's more, as sons of titled houses, such duels often drew attention from the upper court.
Possibly even the royal palace.
If word reaches the king… no. Worse. If Her Majesty hears of it…
He leaned back slightly.
"Quite the well-read young heir you've raised, Ravien," he said, voice low.
"Sharp mind, firm conviction… and now a potential duelist, hmmm?"
"A‑Ah… Your Grace…"
Viscount Ravien's voice faltered slightly.
"Pardon me… and my son for—"
But before he could finish, Duke Larkam let out a low chuckle.
Then, with casual grace, he rose from his cushion.
"Very well."
He dusted off his sleeves, expression relaxed.
"Since I was thoroughly entertained today… I'll consider this matter closed. For now."
He turned toward Jarius, eyes gleaming with curiosity.
"Your son is quite something, Viscount Ravien. Sharp tongue, steel spine… and an excellent memory for the law."
His voice was calm, yet something unreadable lingered beneath the surface.
"Impressive indeed."
Then he glanced aside.
"Besides… the boy my fourth wife raised never had much in him to begin with. I was simply curious to see who'd dare hand him a lesson."
"To think… it'd be a thirteen-year-old."
He laughed lightly, as if amused by the entire affair.
"Well then, I've seen enough for today."
Duke Larkam turned toward the exit, his cloak brushing the floor behind him like a trailing shadow.
( End Of Chapter )