CHAPTER 99

  OLD NEW FRIENDS

  The next blow shattered his stance. Theodred staggered, his aura collapsing around him in a silent implosion. He dropped to one knee, breath vanishing from his lungs, vision dimming at the edges. His sword bit into the earth, the only thing keeping him from falling outright.

  The spar has ended.

  The warmth of power thrumming in him—was gone.

  Highborn lord scoffed in silence. He stood beside his son, the husband to their queen. “So, he is the one who ruined our family—”

  “No.” Eleanor rejected. “You were the one, Father. You should’ve stopped before this mess exploded. I can’t believe you'd stoop so low. Slavery—really? Of our own people, no less."

  "I saved them," he replied coldly. "Was it wrong to profit from it?"

  "Father!" Eleanor hissed. "We are of noble blood. If we extort our own people, who will protect them?"

  "It seems laying with that woman has dulled you, son," the highborn lord sneered. "These commoners—these peasants—aren’t entitled to our kindness. They are means to an end. We are noble. They are not."

  "What happened to you, Father? How did you become so bitter?"

  "It is not I who have changed, but you, son," he said, his voice edged with warning. "If your wife keeps going like this, she will face the consequences. The Crows do not like this at all." He reached out, tapping Eleanor’s shoulder with calculated contempt.

  "What will happen when her strongest support—the Crows—turn their backs on her?"

  With that, he turned and walked away, leaving Eleanor to his thoughts.

  But the highborn lord was not the only uninvited guest.

  "This is a problem," whispered a voice from the shadows. A cloaked figure emerged briefly, then vanished as if it had never been, disturbing no wards, tripping no alarms. "The prophecy appears to be true. The Knight of Light… hmm, this could be interesting."

  “You should rest,” said Reina, offering her hand to stand him up.

  He accepted it, then looked up, catching the eyes of those still watching. Their stares didn’t unsettle him—he had long since grown used to them. Brushing dust from his clothes, he asked:

  "Where to? Back to the cell?"

  "No." Reina scanned the area. "Nym."

  "Yes, Your Majesty." The Elite Captain appeared from nowhere, her presence sudden but expected.

  "Bring him to the guest quarters. He’s staying at the palace."

  Nym hesitated before replying. "As you command, my queen."

  But she wasn’t the only one surprised. Theodred, a stranger, was to stay in the inner palace—a space so guarded that even Reina’s closest attendants were rarely permitted access.

  Soon, the long-abandoned guest quarters were occupied once more.

  "A bed… finally, a good bed," Hans muttered as he collapsed into the cushioned mattress. And exhaustion claimed him swiftly.

  AT ROYAL CHAMBERS

  "You conducted the investigation?" Reina asked Bernard, her tone clipped. All those who mattered were present—her husband, the residents of the inner palace, and Aredhel.

  "Grimgar covered up everything," Bernard said. "And they expect us to do the same."

  "Of course they would," Reina muttered dryly. "Apparently, royal in-laws are mad in both kingdoms."

  "He's not lying, at least not outwardly.” Said Bernard. “His story checks out from the surface. But since all records of his existence were purged by Grimgar, we couldn’t dig deeper."

  "Oh, he's definitely not telling the whole truth," Reina replied, a faintly amused smile curving her lips.

  "Then why are you—"

  "Keeping him?" she finished for him, amused. "He went through far too much just to reach me. I want to see how far he’s willing to go."

  "You’re playing with fire, wife," Eleanor warned, concern etched into his face.

  "Then I’ll just have to make sure I don’t get burned," Reina said, rising and brushing her hands.

  "Tell the children to befriend him. He’s going to be here for a while."

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  "You just said he’s suspicious," Bernard interjected, doubtful.

  "In thought, yes. But the kind of knight he pretends to be won’t allow him to harm or manipulate children. Of that, I’m certain."

  “Then what happens if he did not need to portray—”

  "That’s why I gave him a taste of my skill," she replied coolly. "There exists no aura technique in the Light Discipline stronger than mine for an elf. He cannot act until he understands everything I have."

  "And you truly plan to teach him all that?"

  "Yes. To some extent.” She said dismissing all.

  After a deep rest, Theodred was stirred by a knock at the door. When he opened it, Nym stood on the other side.

  I suppose she is my watchdog, he thought. "What can I help you with, Ser Nym?" he asked aloud, his tone formal, almost archaic.

  And his archaic way of addressing her felt awkward to Nym. Shaking it off she said, “Queen has requested your presence in the dining halls.

  Dining Hall?

  As Theodred followed Nym through the grand corridors and into the dining halls, he was met with a tide of glances on table—curious, guarded, assessing. I don’t think I belong here. He thought.

  “What are you doing?” Reina asked, noting his hesitation. He stood rooted, bewildered. She gestured calmly to an empty seat beside her children. “Sit.”

  “It doesn’t feel right for me to dine at your family’s table, ma—teacher.”

  “You are my student. My only student,” she replied. “Sit.”

  He obeyed without further protest, pulling the chair out with a soft scrape and lowering himself into it. The spread before him was dazzling—a creative fusion of cuisines, each dish plated with the delicate care of an artist.

  Man, I don’t want to destroy it by devouring. He gulped showing that this was his first time having food so great. A gesture to not destroy his own story.

  “You can eat,” Reina offered, noting his restraint.

  “You first, teacher—”

  “Do you think I’d poison you at my own table?” she asked, arching a brow.

  “No! It’s just… isn’t it proper for a disciple to eat only after the teacher?”

  “Oh, you and your old customs,” she sighed. “The times have changed, Theodred.” With that, she began eating, and the rest of the table followed suit.

  “But I was curious,” Reina said between bites. “Where did you learn those old words and knightly customs?”

  “When I had nothing,” Theodred began, voice calm, “I found a book. It was a children’s story in the human lands—a parable of a knight-king. It described everything a knight should be… and should not.”

  “Aha. The one with the mage-king?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  As he spoke, he emptied another bowl with practiced efficiency, completely ignoring the expected decorum of the palace. Reina watched him a moment, then remarked dryly: “It seems I’ll need to teach you not just swordplay—but table manners as well.”

  Hans smiled inside. This is what he was going for.

  "Starting tomorrow, be present at the dinner table," Reina said, her tone leaving no room for debate. "We dine together. Every day."

  "Isn’t that… bothersome?" Theodred glanced around at the gathered royals. "You’re all nobles. I’m not."

  "You are my student. And by now, the world should already know of your existence."

  "So?"

  "It means," she continued, "the farther you are from my family, the more danger you’re in."

  Theodred blinked, genuinely confused. As Hans he had many enemies just because he was the Parvian world feared and detested but not as Theodred, it was a fresh start. "Why? I don’t have any enemies—"

  "You do now. Highborns, nobles who were executed, punished, or stripped of everything because of the spark you lit. They won’t dare come for me or anyone bearing my blood—but you… you're a different story.”“

  “I’m in deep waters then. I’d do as you say teacher.” He waited for the others to rise, but Reina wasn’t finished.

  She gestured toward those at the table. “You already know my husband, Eleanor. These are my children—Allynna and Riftal.”

  Hans gave a nod, casual and firm, a reflexive gesture born of old habit—one meant for equals.

  Reina narrowed her eyes. "Most people bow to the prince and princess, not simply nod."

  “They’ve done nothing to earn my respect, teacher. Being royal by blood doesn't make them worthy of my lowered head.”

  "Your words remind me of someone… unpleasant."

  "Truth often does, teacher."

  "I didn’t know I had a student with such a sharp tongue."

  "Just being honest about how I feel," Theodred replied, calm and direct. "I don’t hide behind flowery speech. That’s hypocrisy."

  "That kind of hypocrisy is necessary if you want to survive in this world, young man."

  "That’s just another way of saying you’ve bent your knee to circumstance. It eats away at you, bit by bit. I’d rather live a short, honourable life than a long one spent bowing, teacher."

  For a moment, Reina said nothing.

  A strange hush settled over the table. Her children exchanged glances, astonished. Their mother rarely spoke so much during dinner. She had always held them at arm’s length, her presence dignified, her affection distant. Hearing her argue—and so openly—was unfamiliar to them.

  The silence broke when a voice rang out.

  "That’s it?" Delimira said, smirking. "Go on—I was enjoying watching you shut her down."

  "And who might you be, young lady?" Hans asked with mock formality, almost bursting into laughter at his own words.

  He held it in but Chris couldn’t. He doubled over, laughing hard. "Young lady—that’s a good one, man. I’m Chris, by the way—"

  "Shut up, Chris." Delimira turned back to Hans, her grin sharp. "And you—" she gestured towards to Reina, "you heard her. You’ve made a lot of enemy in so little time. Consider me added to that list.

  Hans tried not to grin. She’s pissed. Worth it. He had chosen the name Theodred for a reason—and this kind of reaction was exactly what he’d hoped for.

  "She’s Delimira Highbor—"

  "Winters," Delimira interrupted coldly. "My name is Delimira Winters, not Highborn." She shot Reina a warning glare.

  "Whatever," Reina said, brushing the correction aside. "She’s Aredhel’s daughter." Her hand motioned toward the silent figure across the table, who still stared at Theodred as though trying to make sense of his existence.

  "Oho, so you’re Lady Aredhel—the owner of Winters Company." Hans offered a courteous nod. "I heard you were searching for me."

  "Yes," Aredhel said, her voice calm but firm. "We need to talk. And once this charade of a dinner is over, we will."

  It wasn’t the encounter Hans had envisioned. Certainly not the way he’d imagined meeting the woman who had scoured the continent in search of Theodred—for her daughter.