The Drayvar manor had transformed into something resembling a stirred anthill. With only ten days remaining before the trip to Vaeloria, servants ran from one side to the other preparing luggage, tailors took measurements for clothes appropriate for court, and Elyn supervised every detail with the intensity of a general planning a military campaign.
Because, in a way, it was.
Rylan was not just going to the capital. He was going to be seen. Evaluated. Judged by nobles from other Great Houses, by members of the Solar Council, and perhaps, if they were lucky, by Emperor Titus Draconis himself.
This was his introduction to the world that mattered.
And Elyn was determined for it to be perfect.
Kael watched everything from the margins, as always. He saw the tailors measuring Rylan three times to ensure every tunic fit flawlessly. He saw Elyn rejecting embroidery because "gold is too obvious, we need silver with blue touches, subtlety that suggests power without screaming desperation." He saw Varen reviewing lists of nobles who would be present, memorizing names and alliances with the same dedication as a student before a crucial exam.
And he saw Lyssara.
She also watched from her own silent corner. But there was something different in her gaze now. It wasn't the casual observation of someone bored. It was the intense study of someone cataloging every mistake, every missed opportunity, every moment where she would have done things better if she were in Rylan's place.
Their eyes met once across the hallway while Elyn adjusted the collar of a ceremonial cloak on Rylan's shoulders.
Lyssara didn't smile. She just tilted her head slightly. An acknowledgment of presence.
'She is learning too,' Kael realized. 'Seeing what works. What doesn't. Preparing for when it is her turn.'
'If they ever give her a turn.'
That night, when Mira appeared with her usual package of sweets, Kael stopped her before she could leave.
"Mira, wait."
The maid frozen with wide eyes. She had lost weight in the last week. Kael noticed it. The dark circles under her eyes were deeper, and her hands trembled constantly.
'Guilt,' he diagnosed. 'And fear. She is crumbling under the pressure.'
"Yes, Young Kael?"
"I don't need the sweets anymore."
For a moment Mira's face lit up with hope so pure it hurt to see. But then confusion replaced it.
"You don't need them anymore?"
"I got tired of them."
Kael shrugged.
"But I want something else instead."
The hope died. Of course it died. Because of course there was something else.
"What thing, my lord?"
'My lord.' She had never called him that before. Now she did it automatically because that was what he had achieved with his little manipulation: changing her perception of who held power.
Kael felt that cold emptiness again but pushed it aside.
"Information. I want to know things."
"What kind of things?"
"Things that happen in the kitchen. Conversations the servants have. Who is fighting with whom. Who owes money to whom."
He paused to choose his words carefully.
"The small things that happen underneath everything else. The things the important people don't notice."
Mira looked at him with a mixture of confusion and something resembling horror.
"Why would you want to know those things?"
"Because they interest me."
The answer was honest at least.
"Can you do that? Once a week you tell me something interesting."
"I... I suppose."
Mira swallowed with difficulty.
"And what about Ser Aldric? Does he...?"
"I will speak with him. The arrangement changes for him too."
He didn't say what changed exactly. Because honestly, he still didn't know. But Aldric presented a problem: he was an adult trapped being blackmailed by a child, which meant eventually his pride would overcome his fear. And when that happened, there would be consequences.
'I need to solve it before it explodes,' he thought as Mira nodded and left. 'But how?'
He let her go with a package of sweets he no longer wanted and a growing feeling that he had started something more complicated than he could handle.
'But that is how you learn,' he reminded himself. 'You start something small. You see what happens. You adapt.'
'Just like Lyssara would do.'
Just like all the real players did.
He found Sareth two days later in his usual spot: the secondary library, surrounded by books on imperial history and ancient philosophy, taking notes in his careful and shaky handwriting.
"Still studying?"
Kael slid into the chair opposite his brother.
Sareth looked up, blinking like someone emerging from deep waters.
"Master Corvin said that if I want to have any value, I need to be the most educated of all of us."
His voice came out small and defeated.
"He says it is the only thing I am good for."
"Corvin is an idiot."
"Kael..."
"It is true."
Kael took one of Sareth's books and leafed through it without much interest. It was about the consolidation of the Empire under Titus Draconis, full of dates and names and battles that would probably never matter.
"Being educated is fine. But he acts as if it were your only option. As if you were already finished at eleven years old."
Sareth didn't answer immediately. His fingers traced the edges of his parchment, leaving ink stains here and there.
"Am I not?"
The question finally came out with a broken voice.
"My ceremony was weak, Kael. Everyone knows it. Elyn says it every time she thinks I don't hear her. 'The weak son. The mistake'."
He paused as he struggled with the words.
"Maybe Corvin is right. Maybe books are all I have."
Kael closed the book he had been leafing through and looked directly at his brother.
"Sareth, do you know what the difference is between you and me?"
"You had moderate resonance. I had weak."
"No."
Kael shook his head firmly.
"You believe what people tell you about yourself. I don't."
"That is because they don't tell you that you are useless."
"They don't tell me anything."
The correction was soft but clear.
"Which is almost worse. At least they notice you enough to insult you. I don't even qualify for that."
Sareth seemed to consider this for a long moment.
"And doesn't that bother you?"
"Of course it bothers me."
Kael leaned back in his chair, trying to find the right words.
"But being bothered changes nothing. What changes things is making people see you differently."
"How?"
It was the same question Sareth had asked before. And this time Kael had a better answer.
"By being useful. Not in the obvious way like Rylan being strong. But by being the person who has what others need. Information. Connections. Solutions to problems they didn't even know they had."
Sareth frowned with genuine confusion.
"That sounds complicated."
"It is."
A small smile touched Kael's lips.
"But it is also more interesting than just swinging a sword."
"I don't know if I am smart enough for that."
"You are smarter than you think."
Kael pointed to all the books scattered on the table.
"Look at all this. You really understand what you read. I just memorize. There is a difference."
That wasn't entirely true, but Sareth needed to hear it. And there was enough truth in it for it not to be a total lie.
Sareth looked at his books, then at Kael, and then back at his books as if he saw something new in them.
"Do you really think I can be useful?"
"I think you can be more than what Elyn says you are."
Kael stood up, preparing to leave.
"But you have to stop believing her words more than yours."
He left Sareth with that, hoping it was enough. Hoping his brother found some strength in the words even if Kael himself wasn't sure he fully believed them.
'But maybe,' he thought as he left the library, 'if you act like you believe in someone for long enough, eventually you start to really do it.'
'Or maybe I am just justifying manipulating my own brother.'
He wasn't sure which was worse.
The great dining hall was fuller than usual that night. Varen had invited several of his captains to dinner: men and women with weathered faces who had served House Drayvar for decades. They were there to discuss logistics of the journey. Routes, escorts, protocols in the capital.
Kael and Sareth were relegated to one end of the table, practically invisible amidst the adult conversations about cavalry and supplies. Lyssara had been seated closer to the center as a concession to her status as the legitimate wife's daughter, but she ignored the conversations while eating in silence. Her eyes moved from one captain to another, cataloging information.
Rylan was in his element sitting next to Varen, asking questions about Vaeloria that showed genuine curiosity mixed with barely disguised anxiety.
"Is it true that the imperial palace has a thousand rooms?"
"Closer to eight hundred."
The answer came from one of the captains: a woman named Sendra with a scar crossing her entire cheek.
"But they feel like a thousand when you are lost in them."
"And the Emperor? Will I see him?"
"Probably from afar."
Varen answered this time with his characteristic voice.
"The Solar Council meets in the Hall of the Eternal Sun where Titus presides from his throne. You will be in the stands observing, not on the main floor."
"For now."
Elyn added this with a tone that carried a clear promise.
"But one day you will be down there representing House Drayvar as its head."
Rylan straightened at those words. Pride lit up his face almost tangibly.
"I will make you proud."
"I know."
The warmth in Elyn's voice was so genuine that Kael almost felt envy.
'This is how it feels,' he understood with sudden clarity. 'To be the favorite. To have someone who believes in you without conditions. Who sees you as the future instead of a mistake.'
He looked at Sareth who was pushing food around his plate without really eating. His brother had been quieter than usual since their conversation in the library. Processing everything, probably.
'Did I do him good?' Kael wondered with some doubt. 'Or did I just give him false hope?'
He had no answer. But before he could think more about it, Varen's voice cut through his thoughts.
"Captain Tomos, how are the weapon preparations going?"
Kael tensed immediately. Tomos. The blacksmith. Mira's husband.
Tomos was a huge man, easily the size of two normal men with arms like tree trunks and hands that looked like they could crush skulls effortlessly. His face was perpetually red from the heat of the forge, and his voice resonated like thunder when he spoke.
"Everything ready, my lord."
Tomos's grunt was professional but tired.
"The swords for the escort are sharp, the armor checked. Although..."
He hesitated noticeably.
"Although what?"
"I have been... distracted lately. Problems at home."
Tomos looked at his plate, clearly uncomfortable speaking of personal matters in front of nobles.
"My wife has been different. Distant. I don't know what is wrong with her."
Kael felt his stomach sink with leaden weight.
'He notices. Mira is not hiding it as well as she thinks.'
"Different how?"
Sendra asked with genuine curiosity in her tone.
"She gets scared easily. She doesn't look me in the eye. Sometimes I find her crying for no reason."
Tomos rubbed his face with a gesture of frustration and confusion.
"I thought maybe she was sick, but she says she is fine. But I know she is lying."
"Maybe you should talk to her."
Another captain suggested this with a pragmatic tone.
"Women... sometimes they need you to ask them directly."
"I have tried. She just..."
Tomos interrupted himself and shook his head.
"Apologies, my lord. I shouldn't be bothering you with this."
"Nonsense."
Varen replied, though he was clearly uncomfortable with the emotional turn of the conversation.
"Your matters matter. I will speak with Ama Maren. She can check your wife and see if she needs a healer."
"Thank you, my lord."
The conversation moved to other topics, but Kael was no longer listening. His mind raced, processing implications at a frenetic speed.
'Tomos knows something is wrong. He doesn't know what yet, but he is asking. And if he keeps asking, eventually someone will talk. A servant who saw something. A casual mention. And then...'
'And then Tomos discovers about Aldric. And Aldric is a dead man. Or close to it.'
'And if they investigate why it started, my name will come out.'
Kael looked at Lyssara across the table. She was watching him with a slightly raised eyebrow. She had heard Tomos's conversation. She had seen Kael's reaction.
She knew.
'Of course she knows. She always knows.'
After dinner, Kael found Ser Aldric patrolling the south courtyard. The knight saw him approaching, and his face hardened immediately.
"What do you want now, little leech?"
"To talk. In private."
Aldric looked around, verifying no one else was close, and then followed Kael toward a dark corner of the courtyard where the shadows hid them.
"More sweets? Maybe you want my full pay too?"
Sarcasm dripped from every word.
"I want you to end it with Mira."
Aldric blinked. He clearly didn't expect that.
"What?"
"End it. Tonight. Tell her you are no longer interested. Be kind about it, don't hurt her more than you already have, but end it."
"Why the hell would I do that?"
"Because her husband is noticing that something is wrong. And Tomos isn't stupid. He is just slow. But eventually, he will connect the dots."
Kael let the implication hang in the air for a moment before continuing.
"And when he does..."
Aldric paled slightly under the dim light.
"Does he... suspect?"
"Not yet. But he will. And I would prefer that doesn't happen."
"Why do you care? I thought you were enjoying having a hold on me."
Kael considered lying for a second but decided a version of the truth would work better.
"Because if Tomos finds out, there will be a scandal. Investigations. Questions. And eventually, someone might wonder how I knew about it."
He looked Aldric directly in the eye.
"And neither of us wants that to happen."
It was an exaggeration. Probably no one would question how an eight-year-old boy had found out about something. But Aldric didn't need to know that.
The knight rubbed his face. Exhaustion was clear in his features.
"Fine. I will end it. But after that, we are even. No more blackmail. No more... whatever this is."
"Even."
Kael nodded in agreement.
It was a lie, of course. Aldric would always know Kael knew his secret. That would never disappear completely. But it was enough for now.
Aldric left muttering curses about demonic children, and Kael remained alone in the courtyard.
He felt... relieved. And slightly disappointed in himself.
'When did I start worrying about consequences?' he asked himself silently. 'When did I stop just doing things because I could?'
'Maybe when Tomos spoke about his wife crying. Maybe when I saw what my little game had really done to a real person.'
'Or maybe I am just afraid of getting caught.'
He wasn't sure what the truth was. Possibly both things at the same time.
Three days later, Mira appeared in his room with information instead of sweets.
"Young Kael."
Her voice was still trembling but less broken than before.
"I have something that might interest you."
"Go ahead."
"The cooks are worried. One of the grain suppliers in the city has been mixing his product with small pebbles to add weight. Ama Maren doesn't know yet, but the servants are talking about it."
Kael nodded slowly while processing the information.
"Which supplier?"
"Merchant Ferris. The one who has the warehouse near the east docks."
"Thank you, Mira."
She hesitated at the door as if she wanted to say something else.
"Young Kael... Ser Aldric ended things with me. Two nights ago. He was... kind about it. Kinder than I expected."
Her eyes filled with tears she fought to contain.
"I don't know if you had anything to do with that but... thank you."
She left before Kael could answer.
And Kael sat on his bed holding information he didn't really know what to do with. He wondered if he had just helped someone or simply changed the nature of how he was using them.
'Information,' he thought, remembering what he had told Sareth. 'The real currency of power.'
'But what do you do with it when you don't know how to spend it?'
He had no answer. He was still too young, too inexperienced, too small for information about a corrupt supplier to really matter in the grand scheme of things.
But someday it would matter.
And when that day came, he would be ready.
'Because that is what it means to grow in the shadows,' he understood with clarity. 'You learn now. You practice now. You make mistakes now when they don't matter as much.'
'So that when you finally step into the light, you already know exactly how to play.'
The morning of the departure arrived with grey skies and cold wind from the sea. The entire manor was awake before dawn. Servants loaded luggage onto carts while the escort of twenty soldiers checked weapons and armor one last time.
Kael watched from the balcony of his room, seeing Rylan stand in the main courtyard dressed in a new dark blue tunic with silver embroidery. He looked older somehow. More important.
Varen was next to him, also dressed formally. His ceremonial Drayvar armor shone even under the cloudy sky. He spoke in a low voice with his captains giving final instructions.
Elyn was fixing Rylan's collar for the third time. Her hands trembled slightly. It was the only sign of emotion she showed.
"Remember everything we have discussed."
She told him with a firm voice but loaded with meaning.
"Be courteous but not servile. Observe more than you speak. And if the Emperor looks directly at you..."
"I incline my head but do not lower my gaze."
Rylan finished the sentence with a tone that suggested having heard it many times.
"I know, Mother. You have told me fifty times."
"And I will tell you fifty more if necessary."
Elyn hugged him briefly. Something rare for her.
"Make me proud."
"I will."
Lyssara was standing to one side with crossed arms, observing everything with a carefully neutral expression. But Kael could see the tension in her shoulders and the way her fingers squeezed her own arm.
'She wants to be in that carriage,' he understood easily. 'She wants to be the one going to Vaeloria. But she can't say it because that would be admitting she cares.'
Sareth was next to Kael on the balcony, completely silent. He had been increasingly quiet in the last few days, processing their library conversation while watching Rylan prepare for something he would never have.
"Do you think he will be different when he comes back?"
The question came out suddenly.
"Rylan? Probably. He will see things we will never see."
"I don't mean just what he will see."
Sareth looked at Kael with eyes showing more understanding than he expected.
"I mean how he will see us. If he sees us at all."
Kael didn't have a good answer for that, so he said nothing.
Below, Varen mounted his horse. Rylan did the same, though with less grace. He needed help from a guard to get into the saddle. The escort formed around them, and then, with a final wave from Elyn, they began to move.
The carts creaked. The horses' hooves clattered against the stone. And House Drayvar watched as its head and its favorite heir disappeared through the main gates of the manor towards the city, then the imperial roads, and finally Vaeloria.
Leaving behind those who didn't matter enough to go.
Kael watched until the last figure disappeared from sight. Then he turned to Sareth.
"Come. We have work to do."
"What work?"
"Learning."
Kael began to walk toward the library with determined steps.
"If we cannot go to the world, at least we can prepare for when the world finally comes to us."
Sareth followed him without questioning. Because that was what Sareth did. He followed. He trusted.
And Kael would do everything possible to ensure that trust wasn't completely misplaced.
'Although,' he admitted silently as they walked through the empty hallways, 'I am still not sure if I am worthy of it.'
But maybe that doubt was good.
Maybe it meant he was still human.
Not yet the monster he sometimes felt he was becoming.
'Not yet.'