Kael watched the column approaching from one of the second-floor windows, where he had been observing for the last twenty minutes with patience he had perfected through months of deliberate practice.
The golden heir was returning victorious.
How predictable.
Rylan rode at the front with Master Torin at his side, the disciplined formation behind them moving with a military precision that would likely impress anyone who didn't know that maintaining formation after a successful expedition was literally the bare minimum expected of professional soldiers.
But of course, for the family, this would be a cause for celebration. The heir had gone to the mountains, killed bandits, rescued villagers, and returned safe and sound. All very heroic. All very convenient.
Kael stepped away from the window without haste.
He had no interest in being in the courtyard when Rylan arrived, surrounded by attention and congratulations and all that social theatricality that inevitably accompanied these moments. Letting Lyssara and Celestia handle the official welcome was more efficient. He would appear later, at dinner, where his presence would be expected but not particularly noticed.
Being invisible had its advantages.
Although lately he had been less invisible than initially planned, which was both a problem and an opportunity depending on how you looked at it. Eight knights escorting him through the city had been... excessive in retrospect. Too obvious a message. Lyssara had noticed, of course. His sister missed nothing when she chose to pay attention.
But the damage was done, and now he had to maintain the delicate balance between being relevant enough to have resources and irrelevant enough not to be perceived as a serious threat by the adults who truly mattered.
He walked down the corridor toward his room with measured steps, letting the distant sound of voices in the courtyard fade behind him.
Rylan had returned.
Good.
That meant the next phase could begin soon.
The dining hall was as always: too formal, too rigid, too full of people pretending they enjoyed each other's company when in reality everyone was calculating their own interests under masks of familial courtesy.
What a joke.
Kael occupied his usual place near Sareth, in the section of the table where the younger children sat because family hierarchies had to be respected even during meals where everyone was supposedly equal before the bowls of seafood soup.
Rylan was in the seat of honor next to Varen, naturally, because the heir deserved recognition for surviving an expedition that any competent veteran could have handled with their eyes closed. Lyssara was further down on the same side, maintaining that perfect composure she used as armor in social situations. Celestia and her mother Seraphine occupied the other side, and the Matriarch Valmar watched everything with those calculating eyes that probably saw more than most people at this table suspected.
Elyn was in her element, asking questions about the trip in a voice that sounded maternal but was really assessing how well Rylan had met the expectations she had set for her perfect son.
"Rylan... tell us about the journey. It must have been a valuable experience for you."
Kael took a sip of his soup without paying real attention to Rylan's answer. Something about the Razor Mountains, about pine forests, about bandits hiding in well-concealed camps. The details were predictable: they arrived, they saw, they conquered, they returned victorious.
The hero's narrative in its most basic version.
His attention drifted toward Celestia as she leaned forward with evident enthusiasm, asking questions about the combat and the rescue as if she were listening to an adventure story rather than a boring military report.
Celestia Valmar.
Kael had to suppress an ironic smile that would have been completely inappropriate for the context.
She was pretty, objectively speaking. The kind of obvious beauty that commanded attention in any parlor: well-kept hair, bright eyes, an easy smile. And her personality was... well, it was exactly what would be expected of a House Valmar daughter raised in luxury and shielded from any unpleasant reality. Talkative, enthusiastic, superficial in the way only truly privileged people could afford to be.
And despite all that, or perhaps precisely because of it, Kael found her company... refreshing.
She had no layers. She wasn't constantly calculating like Lyssara or feigning strength like Rylan. She was genuinely herself: a fourteen-year-old girl who liked pretty dresses and romantic stories and who had probably never had a truly dark thought in her entire life.
It was like watching a puppy play: completely unaware of how vulnerable it was, completely confident that the world would treat her well because so far it always had.
And that innocence was... strangely appealing.
'Focus, Kael.'
But maintaining the mask was crucial. Especially now that Seraphine Valmar was spending so much time at the manor. The Matriarch was not foolish. She was exactly the kind of woman who would notice if a nine-year-old boy showed unusual interest in her teenage daughter or if he acted in a way that suggested priorities too adult for someone his age.
And that would lead to questions.
Questions Kael definitely didn't want to answer.
So he maintained appropriate distance. He acted like the polite but uninterested child he was supposed to be. He observed without participating. He listened without contributing. He was the silent shadow in the corner of the table whom everyone eventually forgot was there.
Irrelevant.
That was the key.
To be irrelevant enough that the Matriarchs wouldn't consider him a threat.
Because here were two powerful mothers, Elyn and Seraphine, each working tirelessly to secure the future of their children. Elyn pushing Rylan toward greatness, weaving marital alliances, building his reputation. Seraphine doing the same with Celestia, though with a more political focus since her daughter was not a direct heir to anything important.
And when mothers like that identified threats to their children's plans, they eliminated those threats with ruthless efficiency disguised as maternal concern.
Kael had already drawn too much attention lately. The duel with Rylan. The escort of eight knights. The rumors that inevitably circulated among the servants about the youngest son who was building something in the shadows.
He needed to step back a little. Let the attention focus on Rylan again. Maintain a low profile until the appropriate moment came to make the next move.
What a pain.
The conversation continued to flow around the table like a predictable river following an established course. Rylan describing assault strategies that Torin had probably designed entirely. Varen offering measured praise that made Rylan's eyes shine with filial pride. Elyn nodding with maternal satisfaction. Celestia asking questions that revealed how little she understood about real combat. Lyssara occasionally contributing observations that sounded intelligent but said nothing substantial.
And Seraphine observing everything with those eyes that were likely evaluating every word, every gesture, every family dynamic to determine how best to position her daughter within this network of alliances.
Kael ate his soup mechanically, maintaining a neutral expression that revealed nothing about the thoughts circulating in his head. 'At least my plans are going well.'
And that was true. Despite the complications, despite drawing more attention than desired, the foundations were solid. Aldric was completely under control. The loyal Initiates provided a power base in the training yard. The information network through Mira and other servants functioned efficiently.
But Gareth...
Gareth was different.
Kael felt the familiar tension in his chest thinking about the mercenary. A dangerous ally. The type of man who could kill him without blinking if he decided Kael no longer served him or if he simply grew bored with the arrangement they had established that bloody afternoon at The Rusty Anchor.
The first mission had gone well, technically.
But there were doubts.
Had Gareth followed the instructions exactly as requested? Or had he improvised in ways Kael had yet to discover? Was he playing his own parallel game while feigning loyalty to a nine-year-old boy who had recruited him with promises of purpose and a better future?
He wasn't like Favius or Mika or the other Initiates who could be managed with a combination of earned respect and subtle social pressure. They were young, malleable, looking for direction and leadership that Kael could provide because he understood what motivated them.
Gareth was a veteran hardened by decades of violence. He wasn't looking for direction. He didn't need validation. He operated according to pure mercenary logic where loyalty lasted exactly as long as mutual benefit.
To secure true loyalty from someone like that, Kael would need Gareth to be willing to give his life for him. Not out of contractual obligation, but for something deeper. Genuine respect. Earned trust. A connection that transcended simple transaction.
And that meant knowing him. Really knowing him. His motivations, his fears, his weaknesses, his lines he wouldn't cross even for money.
But Kael wasn't like that.
He didn't have the patience for the long, tedious process of building genuine connection based on shared time and mutual experiences. He didn't want to spend years cultivating a friendship with a brutal mercenary who probably had a history of atrocities that would make Kael's own plans seem timid.
What he needed was to find Gareth's weakness. The crack in his armor. The pressure point he could use to secure absolute loyalty without having to pretend he cared about the man's emotional well-being. 'Everyone has a weakness.' 'I just need to find his.'
And when he did, Gareth would cease to be a dangerous ally who could betray him at any moment and would become a reliable tool that Kael could deploy without worrying about the knife turning against him.
Sareth was quiet beside him, pushing food around his plate with no real interest in eating it. His older brother looked... disconnected. As if he were physically present but mentally somewhere else entirely.
Kael noticed but didn't comment. Sareth had made his own decisions, chosen his own path. It wasn't Kael's responsibility to fix him, especially when he had his own problems to manage.
The courses kept arriving. Fish, vegetables, bread. The conversations continued to flow. Social events, minor politics between Houses, gossip about noble families Kael didn't care about at all.
Eventually Varen stood up, signaling the official end.
"It has been a productive evening. But Rylan needs proper rest after his expedition. We should all retire early tonight."
Finally.
Kael stood up along with the others, maintaining movements appropriate for a polite nine-year-old who had fulfilled his family duty to appear at dinner.
Rylan left first after politely declining Celestia's invitation for a walk in the gardens. The heir looked genuinely exhausted, which was understandable after days on the road.
Varen and Elyn retired together, likely to discuss matters they considered too important for young ears. Seraphine followed with a comment about checking correspondence before sleep.
Which left Celestia and Lyssara.
Kael watched them begin to walk toward the exit leading to the guest rooms, Celestia talking animatedly about something while Lyssara listened with patience that probably required considerable effort.
And then, because apparently he needed to complicate his life more than necessary, Kael heard himself speak.
"May I accompany you?"
Both stopped. Lyssara looked at him with an expression trying to read the intent behind the question. Celestia smiled with genuine kindness that had no hidden layers.
"Of course, Kael. It would be nice to have male company. Even if you're a bit young still. But you're polite enough for a junior Drayvar, so I see no problem. Right, Lyssara?"
Lyssara nodded slowly. "It's fine. You can come."
'Why did I do that?'
Kael had no satisfactory answer as he walked half a step behind them toward the gardens. Perhaps because spending time near Celestia was... pleasant in a way that didn't require constant strategic thought. Or perhaps because a part of him was tired of always being alone, always calculating, always maintaining masks.
Or maybe simply because his priorities sometimes included things that didn't make perfect tactical sense.
The gardens were quiet. Celestia chattered about dresses and parties. Lyssara responded appropriately. Kael simply walked in silence, listening without contributing, maintaining his role as the polite shadow who followed because he had nothing better to do.
And then he saw something that made his attention focus completely.
Varen and Torin entering through a side door toward the private offices. Torin carried a sealed scroll. Both with grave expressions.
The real report.
Not the sanitized summary Rylan had given during dinner. The full report with all the details that were not appropriate for a family audience.
Kael maintained his neutral expression, not visibly reacting as he continued walking as if he hadn't noticed anything important.
But he had noticed.
And he knew Lyssara had noticed too, because his sister didn't miss details like that when she was paying attention.
Their eyes met briefly. A silent exchange that needed no words. 'We both saw the same thing.' 'We both understand that something important is being discussed.'
Kael broke the eye contact first, returning his attention to the path ahead of him as he followed Celestia toward another section of the gardens where there was an ornamental pond that was probably very pretty under starlight or something equally poetic.
It didn't matter.
The walk continued. Celestia kept talking. Lyssara kept responding. Kael remained the silent shadow.
Eventually they returned toward the guest wing where Celestia and Seraphine had their temporary rooms.
"Good night, Kael. Thank you for accompanying us. It was... nice to have a male escort even if you are small still."
Celestia smiled with genuine kindness before disappearing inside her room.
Lyssara looked at him for a moment longer before nodding briefly. "Good night, Kael."
And then she also left, leaving Kael alone in the illuminated hallway.
Kael didn't go to his room.
Instead, he walked toward the gardens again, this time truly alone without the company of sisters or talkative guests.
He found a bench under a large tree where the branches blocked some of the artificial light, creating a pocket of relative darkness that allowed him to see the stars more clearly.
He sat down, tilting his head back, looking up at the night sky that stretched infinitely over Stormvale.
The stars shone indifferent. They had been there before he was born. They would be there long after he died. They didn't care about his plans or his ambitions or his complications.
It was... strangely tranquilizing.
The Imperial Academy.
That thought appeared uninvited as he watched the stars.
Rylan would go in a few months. Lyssara too later on, apparently thanks to his maneuvers with Celestia. The capital, Vaeloria, where true power was concentrated. Where the six Great Houses sent their children for advanced training and to form political connections that would last decades.
Kael had... what? Six more years before being eligible?
A long time.
Time enough to consolidate power here in Stormvale. To ensure that when his turn finally came to go to Vaeloria, he would not arrive as a forgotten younger son but as a force that must be reckoned with.
Time enough for... many things.
The stars offered no answers. They just shone, indifferent, eternal.
Kael remained seated there for an indefinite time, letting the silence of the night envelop his thoughts as he considered the future that stretched before him like an uncharted path in unknown territory.
Eventually he got up, brushing imaginary dust from his clothes, and walked back toward the manor with steps that made no sound against the gravel path.
Tomorrow would be another day.
Another day of masks and manipulations.
Another day closer to the goals he had set for himself.
The stars continued to shine as he disappeared into the shadows of the manor.
Indifferent. Eternal.
And Kael Drayvar continued his path on a board where the rules constantly changed and where a single mistake could cost everything.
The manor door closed softly behind him.
And the night continued its silent course.