Duke Larkam was swiftly escorted out by Viscount Ravien, who followed half a step behind, his tone light, gestures exaggerated with polite flourish.
"This way, Your Grace. Might I suggest a feast before your return? I deeply regret if my son's words came across as brash. He is still young, after all…"
Larkam offered only a faint smile but did not reply.
Behind that composed expression, his thoughts stirred.
That boy…
He's no ordinary child.
He quoted noble law with precision, not just the surface articles, but the deeper clauses. Calm under pressure. Spoke with weight. The kind of weight that most men twice his age still fumble to carry.
And more than that.
He accepted the dueling clause.
Without hesitation.
Larkam's gaze narrowed slightly, flicking forward as he walked.
Under Article Twelve, my son has every right to appoint a warrior to stand in his place. A seasoned knight. A killer in formal garb.
And that Viscount's boy, by all rights, must face it alone.
He struck first, without formal declaration or protocol. That much is fact. And by law, the burden falls to him.
So why…
Why did he accept so willingly?
As if he knows something I don't.
A quiet pause stretched in the Duke's mind.
Then… a smirk.
Interesting.
Perhaps I should send her to befriend him.
My daughter.
She's around the same age, I believe.
Sharp. Cultured. And more importantly… untouched by the petty ambitions of my other wives.
If anyone could hold their own beside that boy, it would be her.
A bond between them… might prove valuable.
Or perhaps… my eldest son.
Not the fool from my fourth wife's side, but the firstborn, disciplined, capable, well-mannered.
He's everything I trained him to be.
But if he could form a connection with that one, he might gain something I could never give him.
Because that child… isn't just well-read.
No… there's more.
He didn't simply memorize noble law, he understood it.
Every word he spoke was calculated. Weighted. There was no fumbling, no wasted breath. Not even a flicker of hesitation.
That kind of speech doesn't come from passive reading.
He studies. Dissects. Applies.
Which means… he has much more to offer.
And I'm certain… that boy's knowledge isn't limited to law alone.
No one accepts the dueling clause that easily unless they have something hidden beneath their sleeves.
A defense? A strategy? Perhaps even training... far beyond what his age implies.
Ah... if only my eldest had a mind like that boy, the youngest of this backwater house.
Larkam's eyes shifted sideways toward Viscount Ravien, who was still talking. Still smiling. Still gesturing far too much.
"I've already instructed the kitchen to prepare a proper feast in your honor, Your Grace! We've spared no effort, truly. You'll find the wine selection quite..."
This man… still groveling at my heel like a leashed hound.
If it weren't for the boy, I wouldn't have bothered setting foot in this estate at all.
But to see a lower-ranked son strike mine without fear…
To watch him defend that act with law, logic, and composure…
That alone made the entire trip worthwhile.
As they reached the guest hall doors, Duke Larkam came to a stop.
His gaze lingered on the polished floor for a brief moment before he turned slightly.
"Ravien."
The Viscount straightened, his posture stiff.
"Y‑Yes, Your Grace?"
Larkam didn't smile.
"I'll be taking my leave for today. However…"
His voice grew colder, slower.
"This matter is not yet fully resolved."
He turned his head just enough to glance toward Ravien.
"I'll be sending someone from my house to handle the next step. Ensure your boy is informed."
Ravien swallowed, nodding quickly.
"A‑Ah… I will, Your Grace. Of course."
Larkam gave a short nod.
"Good."
With that single word, he turned and stepped through the open doors, his cloak trailing behind him.
( End Of Chapter )