Harmonia Calendar 3715, Thal 21 – Ashspire Estate, Elandor
Morning - Anton's Study
I read the report once, then again.
[Good posture. Clean footwork. Learns quickly, follows instructions well, and trains without complaint.]
I set the paper flat on the blotter and leaned back. The leather groaned beneath me as my gaze drifted across the room.
This had once been Gerard's study.
The same tall window that looked down over the courtyard. The same heavy desk, and the same shelf of contracts, their pages still carried the faint smell of oil and dust.
I could almost see him there, pen steady, words sharp, and every judgment quick and precise.
Gerard had been the perfect son.
Then the disease took him. Evelin followed him soon after; her strength failed when she gave birth. Two graves in a month, left an infant, and a title to me.
I muttered, "Duty."
Raising the child had been exactly that. Not love. Not charity.
I drummed a finger on the desk.
Twelve years had passed since that day. The infant had grown into a boy who rose before dawn to train, who remembered the servants' names, who never asked for more than what was given. Useful traits for someone else's son.
My thoughts shifted to my own children.
Favian would inherit. He's sixteen, and understands strength, the value of appearances, and exactly where to apply pressure until people break. He has my eyes, my appetite, and my fire.
Lucien… he's talented; more than once have I seen flashes of brilliance in him, but soft. Too soft for fourteen. He still spoke with compassion when silence would do, and hesitated when decisiveness was needed. He isn't made for the noble scene.
And Theodora…
I reached for the quill, my jaw tight, fingers firm around it.
She's only twelve, but her path is already decided. She will be a tool to buy alliances. That was how houses rose. That was how they survived.
I dipped the quill and drew a steady line beneath the report before writing in clean strokes.
[Keep monitoring him.]
The ink had barely dried when I tugged the bell, a knock followed soon after.
"Enter."
The steward stepped inside, head bowed and hands folded behind his back.
"Yes, my lord."
I glanced up, then back down at the stack of papers on the desk.
"We finalize the banquet arrangements today, and have the instructor submit weekly reports on Adonis."
The steward bowed again.
"At once, my lord."
He turned, stepped out, and pulled the door to a quiet close. Silence settled again, broken only by the slow tick of the clock.
I sat there for a moment longer, staring blankly at the papers on the desk before pushing myself up from the chair. My joints cracked at the sudden movement.
The years left their mark on me, though they didn't soften me. My frame still held, but blond had given way to grey, and my beard carried both.
My feet carried me over to the window. Pulling the curtain aside revealed the training yard below. There, a boy ran drills with a man in a padded gambeson. Their blades clashed, and dull thuds echoed.
I watched three exchanges before I let the curtain fall.
Perhaps the boy won't be useless after all.
◇ ◇ ◇
Late Morning – Dining Hall
Breakfast began with the quiet scrape of knives against plates and steam rising from fresh bread.
The long cherrywood table had darkened with age, and the lightstones above set the silverware shining. I sat opposite Theodora and reached for a heel of bread. A faint ink smudge along my thumb from last night was visible.
Mother will scold that.
I tucked my hand secretly beneath the table, then let my eyes drift toward her.
Mother sat with practiced elegance at the head of the table beside father. She wore an ash-grey overdress lined with fine stitching, and her hazel-brown hair was drawn into a neat braid over one shoulder. Her emerald eyes carried warmth and care, sharp yet soft as they landed on us.
She lifted the teapot. Steam rose from the spout as she poured into Theodora's cup.
"Eat while it's hot, she reminded us, her voice gentle.
My focus shifted as I saw the flash of a hand reach for my plate. Theodora stole one of my berries and broke into a grin as she popped it into her mouth.
"You never fight back."
I watched her chew. A spark in her green eyes dared me to argue.
Her hazel-brown hair was drawn back by a ribbon, and a green dress trimmed with fine white thread surrounded her petite frame. She was the smallest at the table, but the way she carried herself, bold and playful, gave her a kind of charm that was hard to ignore. Still more cute than elegant, her childish acts only made that brightness stand out more.
I pick my battles. I thought, and tore a piece of bread instead but the sound of hinges made me halt and pulled my eyes to the door as it swung open.
Favian stepped in a fraction late, exactly the way he liked it.
He had the same red eyes as father, though his carried a strange edge. His short blond hair was slicked back, and a smile spread across his lips, more practiced than genuine. A fitted white tunic cut close to his frame, silver threads stitched along the cuffs and collar, caught the shine of the lightstones above as he walked toward us.
Favian stopped opposite the head of the table and dipped his head lower. His bow was aimed across the hall, to Father, not to Mother.
"Father."
Father met his eyes, gave a single, measured nod, and let his voice cut through the hall.
"Report."
Favian's smile didn't falter. He straightened and spoke calmly, as if rehearsed.
"I received confirmations from the Marquess of Breyne, Countess Vallis, Lord Halvors, and Grand Duke Valmontis."
"Good work."
Father's voice carried its usual firmness, but a trace of praise slipped through before he returned to his meal.
Favian stepped back with a satisfied smile and slid into the seat beside me.
Now.
I set my fork down, glanced toward father, and spoke softly before the silence settled.
"I spoke with the kennel-master. The southern fence is cracked. When winter comes, the ground will heave and widen it."
Father didn't look at me, his knife was still cutting slices as he spoke in between bites.
"See it repaired."
I pressed my lips thin, and my voice came out louder than I meant, pushing for Father's attention.
"Already arranged."
His hands finally stopped, and he turned toward me. Red eyes locked onto mine before he gave a single nod.
"Good," he said before returning to his meal.
Good? That's all? Favian strolls in late and earns praise. I give answers, and all I ever get is a nod...?
Creak.
The door opened again, pulling me out of my thoughts, and my head turned toward it with the others.
Adonis came in late, as usual after drills.
His pitch-black hair fell messily over his forehead, partially hiding his bright-blue eyes. He was tall for twelve and had a muscular but slim body from his constant training. A black tunic clung to his frame, damp and darkened in uneven patches from sweat.
He paused at the door's threshold, straightened his back, and bowed his head.
"Forgive me." His voice came steady despite the exhaustion.
Father gave him a quick nod before returning to his meal, and Adonis straightened again. He walked over and settled in the empty seat beside Theodora. She scrunched her nose at once, holding it tight with one hand while elbowing him with the other under the table.
"You smell."
Adonis chuckled before leaning closer as though to whisper a secret.
"Better than smelling like your perfume."
She reacted at once. Her face flushed red as she shot him a sharp glare before she drove another elbow into his side, making him wince in pain.
I caught myself staring at them, my own lips curving at their antics.
The table felt so much livelier since he arrived. It wasn't just our table, he seemed to have a talent for brightening up whatever room he entered.
The maids liked him for that, and the stewards liked him because he remembered their names. Adonis was easy to like, but that alone was enough for Father to dislike him...
I set my cup down, leaned his way, and let my voice cut through their banter.
"How was the training?"
Still rubbing his side as if the elbow had really hurt, he turned his gaze toward me and smiled.
"Good."
Theodora didn't leave him alone. She rolled her eyes and leaned his way, lips curling into a knowing smile as she spoke.
"He means he beat the training dummy until his hands bled."
I nodded, still watching him from the corner of my eye as I took another piece of bread.
Hardworking as ever... I couldn't help but smile. It's admirable how he never complains, never asks for more. Father, though… He only saw wasted effort. To him, diligence without ambition was nothing at all.
"The swordmaster's report came. Steady progress." Father's voice cut through the hall just like his knife did with the ham.
Just that, no praise. He didn't even glance at him.
Favian leaned back in his chair, lips curling into a sly grin as his eyes flicked toward Adonis before he chimed in.
"Progress at twelve is expected."
Theodora countered at once, "Not for everyone."
"Theodora." Mother's voice slipped in between them, gentle yet firm, eyes fixed on her.
Theodora straightened at once, her shoulders stiffening at the call while her gaze dropped to the plate in front of her.
I reached for the bread basket and pushed it toward Adonis, stealthily breaking the silence before it could settle.
"Eat more or you'll faint during your training."
Adonis accepted with a small nod and grabbed a piece of bread from the basket.
"Thanks."
The soft clanging of silver interrupted us as Father set his cutlery down. His red eyes shifted toward Favian and lingered there for a moment, carrying the weight of expectation and trust.
"Tomorrow, you'll receive the Valmontis envoy at the door. Stand straight and show them proper respect."
Favian answered smoothly, a small smile curving his lips.
"As always, Father."
Father nodded and shifted his eyes toward me. There was nothing in them, no expectation or trust. He just looked at me.
"You will handle the guild escorts. No mistakes."
I returned his gaze, a knot tightening in my chest, but I held my voice steady.
"Yes, Father."
Father's eyes slid away from me, and the pressure left my shoulders before they landed on Adonis. His voice dropped a notch, becoming firmer than with us.
"Adonis. Wash and present yourself when called."
Adonis looked up from his meal. His fork stopped mid-bite before he set it down.
"Yes, my Lord."
My Lord...
The word hung in the air like smoke.
Father never corrected him, never told him to address him differently.
Theodora leaned forward, smirking, though it didn't reach her eyes, before chiming in, her soft voice slipping through the silence.
"He knows how to stand still."
Father's gaze stayed on him a breath longer before dropping back to his plate.
"Then he can practice."
I watched the exchange in silence.
The way Adonis kept his shoulders straight, even when tired. How he didn't flinch under Father's gaze. Theodora, who tried to defuse the conversation with her light banter. Father's response and how Adonis simply accepted it, as if that was the only way he knew how to exist.
It felt wrong, but there was nothing I could do to change it.
The silence for the rest of the meal felt suffocating.
Creak.
Wood scraped against stone as Father pushed his chair back. All eyes turned toward him, he rose, and we stood with him. Then, silently, without saying a word, he left the hall. Favian shuffled right after him.
The silence lingered a moment longer after they left before Mother's steps broke it.
She circled the table, stopped beside Adonis, and placed a hand on his shoulder. Her green eyes looked softly down at him while a proud smile filled her face.
"You did well yesterday."
Adonis blinked and looked up.
"Yesterday?"
Mother's hand lifted, her fingers ran through his damp hair, smoothing it back with care.
"I read the report. Good work."
She patted his head one last time before slipping away, leaving behind a bright smile on Adonis' face as she left the hall.
Theodora wasted no time, as soon as Mother was gone, she darted toward him, hooking her arm with Adonis' and pulling him forward with a grin.
"Come on, prodigy. Show me your new footwork."
His cheeks reddened as she dragged him away. "It's nothing new." The words stumbled out of him like a whisper.
A sigh escaped me as I watched them.
Here they go again…
She tugged his arm again. Her steps were light, almost bouncing. Mischief sparked in her eyes as she pulled him even closer to whisper.
"Don't you want to impress your big sis?"
Adonis' face flushed deeper as they stepped out of the hall.
I lingered behind, watching them head into the corridor, before going after them. My pace slowed as I caught up, falling just a step behind them.
A glance to the side caught the window's glass, and there our reflections waited.
Theodora's brightness.
Adonis's obedience.
And me...one step behind, watching over them.