Wood cracked against wood in a steady rhythm as Vel and Celia circled each other in their usual practice spot. Sweat trickled down Vel's neck while he tracked Celia's movements, analyzing her stance for openings.
Celia lunged forward, her practice sword a blur. Vel ducked under the strike, but before he could counter, cold wood pressed against his ribs. Celia stood over him, a triumphant grin on her face.
"You're too fast for me, Celia. I can barely process what happened." Vel rubbed his side where her sword had touched.
"You're good at thinking things through," Celia lowered her sword, wiping her brow. "Sometimes your plans are actually pretty clever. But Clara-neesan always said your body needs to move before your head catches up. You think too much during fights."
They sat in silence, catching their breath. The same thought seemed to cross both their minds - their current practice routine had hit its limit. They needed something more, someone experienced to guide them.
Vel traced another pattern in the dirt.
"Maybe we could ask the adventurers passing through to teach us?"
Celia let out a small laugh. "They wouldn't waste time on kids like us. Most of them are busy with quests or missions."
"Yeah...," Vel nodded.
The wind rustled through nearby trees. Vel had been keeping his magic secret, but if they were going to the Academy together, Celia would find out eventually. Better she learned from him than during some entrance exam.
Vel stood up, brushing dirt from his trousers.
"Celia, I have something to tell you..."
Celia rose to her feet, watching as Vel set down his practice sword.
"Do you remember the ossuary incident?"
She frowned. "Of course I do. You scared everyone half to death."
"Something happened after that. While I was unconscious that week."
"What do you mean? You've seemed fine since then."
He stepped back and raised his hand toward a tree.
"Zetahn Feryis Crystallum."
The words echoed strangely, vibrating the air. A shimmering ice lance materialized and shot into the tree trunk with a crack. Frost spread from the impact in delicate patterns.
Celia stumbled backward, her practice sword hanging loose.
"What... what was that? Vel, how did you do that?!"
"It's... magic. Something happened in the ossuary—I don't know what exactly. But when I woke up, I found out I could do this."
Celia's shock transformed into curiosity as she circled the frozen tree trunk, running her fingers over the crystalline patterns.
"Are you... are you magic-born? Only those with sorcerer bloodlines can use magic at such a young age. At least that's what I heard from Clara-neesan."
"I don't think so. But whatever happened in there changed something."
Celia nodded, accepting his explanation.
Vel raised his hand again. "Aquas Oscillum!"
A sphere of water materialized and splashed against the frozen trunk, washing away some of the frost.
"That's... water?" Celia stared at the dripping trunk.
"Yeah. I almost used this in our last sparring match with Kein. I just... didn't think it would be fair."
"You could have won that match!"
Vel shrugged. "Maybe."
Vel picked up his practice sword. "I've been thinking... what if I combine magic with swordplay? Create a new fighting style. It could help me improve, and you'd get experience fighting against something unique."
"Clara-neesan mentioned something similar once - swordmages. They use both magic and weapons, though their spells aren't as powerful as pure mages. Jack of all trades, master of none, she called them."
That made sense. The people here weren't like players who could grind endlessly. They had limited time, limited resources—not everyone could reach their full potential in both paths.
"Hey, Celia-chan, what if we asked my father to teach you sword arts? Since we're looking for ways to improve anyway?"
"Your father? Would he really...?"
"Why not? He's already teaching me the basics, and you're way better with a sword than I am."
"Clara-neesan knew so many sword arts..." Her voice trailed off. But determination quickly replaced the sadness in her eyes. "Learning sword arts would be amazing."
Vel shouldered his wooden blade. "He's probably at his post now. Want to go ask him?"
"Are you sure we should bother him while he's working?"
"He always says questions about combat are never a bother."
---
"You what?"
Von's hand hovered near the hilt of his blade.
"I'm asking if you can teach Celia sword arts. We've been trying to improve, but... it feels like we've hit a wall. I thought maybe—"
Von raised a hand, cutting him off. Celia stood just behind Vel with her practice sword resting across her shoulder.
Von leaned forward and clasped his hands together atop the table. "Vel, do you have any idea what you're asking? Sword arts aren't some basic drills or sparring techniques. They go beyond just swinging a blade."
"I know that. But isn't that exactly why we need to learn them? We want to get better—stronger."
Von studied Celia carefully before speaking again.
"Celia, do you understand what sword arts are capable of?"
"Not really... but I know they're powerful."
Von tapped a finger against the table for emphasis. "A single Wind Cutter can slice through solid stone—or worse—if wielded recklessly."
The room seemed to grow quieter.
Von leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. "This isn't something you can take lightly. If I were to teach her—even just the basics—I'd need to be sure she understands how dangerous this is."
Vel nodded, determination gleaming in his eyes.
Von's expression remained steady. "Besides, it's not guaranteed that she will be able to learn it. How should I put it..." He paused, tapping a finger against the edge of the table. "There are two techniques that I know—Air Cutter and Whirlwind. Do you see the connection?"
Vel nodded slowly. Both air-based.
"What I know relates to air element. If you were to show me the exact movements for something like Fire Slash or Thunderclap, I still couldn't use them."
Vel turned and stepped closer to Celia, close enough that she took a small step back, her cheeks flushing pink. He focused his attention above her head, willing the status window to appear.
"What are you—"
Celia Freznoria
HP: 45/45
MP: Unknown
An error message appeared: Unable to view details status, require [Appraisal]
He stepped back.
Celia flushed crimson and leaned away. "W-what's gotten into you, Vel?!"
He raised his hands. "It's nothing. I thought maybe... I could find some clues by looking at you."
"Clues? What kind of clues?!"
"You know... about attunement and stuff."
"Well, staring isn't going to magically tell you anything."
Von's imposing figure cast a shadow over them. "What exactly are you two doing?"
They both turned to Von. Celia still wore that shade of pink on her cheeks, while Vel remained clueless about what he'd just done.
Von sighed deeply and folded his arms across his chest. "So you're both still set on this idea? Learning sword arts—even knowing what it entails?"
Vel nodded firmly. Celia hesitated for only a moment before doing the same.
The open field extended beyond Elnor's walls, scattered with small trees along its edges. A cool wind brushed Vel's face as he followed Von, carrying the faint sound of the nearby river. Celia lagged behind, her earlier confidence dimmed by Von's warnings.
Von stopped and turned to them. "Out here, no one can spy on us. No guards, no curious eyes. What I'm about to teach you isn't just dangerous—it's something that could get me questioned if people saw me teaching kids like you."
Vel exchanged a glance with Celia, who swallowed hard but nodded.
Von unsheathed his blade slowly. "Learning sword arts is easy. Achieving them? That's another story."
"What do you mean?"
Von planted his feet and raised his sword. "You can see the movement." He shifted his weight, demonstrating the starting stance. "You can copy it. And just like that, you'll think you know it."
He stepped one foot back in a smooth motion, his legs balancing evenly. "But if you're not attuned to the right element—if your mana doesn't resonate with it—nothing will happen."
Von adjusted his grip, the blade catching the light. "Once you know the movement, you need to practice it relentlessly—days in and days out—until it finally happens."
One swift arc cut through the air with precision, followed immediately by another—a mirrored strike.
"Air Cutter!"
Twin crescent-shaped energy waves erupted from Von's blade and slashed cleanly through a tree branch. Leaves fluttered to the ground.
Von lowered his blade and turned to face them. "This is what you're asking for."
Vel stared at the severed branch.
Von sheathed his blade. "When you practice, if you can feel a surge of energy—even if nothing visible happens—that's your sign. It means you're on the right path."
He gestured at the fallen branch. "I can only manage two slashes from that surge. Some skilled swordsmen can push out three, even four strikes before the energy fades."
Von moved closer and tapped Vel's wooden sword. "But here's the problem. Wood can't channel mana properly. You'll feel that surge weaker, and it'll fade faster."
"So... even if I learn it, I'll need a better sword?"
"Quality steel makes all the difference. Magical blades even more so." Von's expression softened slightly. "But you can start learning the movements now. By the time you get a proper blade, your body will already know what to do."
Von moved behind Vel, adjusting his position with a steadying hand on his shoulder.
"Watch closely." He guided Vel through each step—foot placement, shoulder angle—then leading him in a slow slash.
"Feel it."
Vel followed the movements precisely. No energy waves appeared, but something tingled in his arms.
"Father, do we have to shout the name every time?"
Von's lips quirked up. "No, but it helps for several reasons. First, for beginners, saying the name makes it easier to materialize the technique. Once you've truly mastered it, you can perform it silently."
He adjusted Vel's grip. "Second, it's strategic. If I'm using Air Cutter from behind allies, they need to know it's coming." A small grin crossed his face. "And third—it sounds cool."
Vel couldn't help but smile. He readied himself again. Beside him, Celia mirrored his stance.
Together, they swung their practice swords.
"Air Cutter!"
A notification flashed in Vel's vision: Air Cutter - Unlocked
An exclamation mark appeared in his Skill Panel with a new category for Sword Arts. When he focused on the icon, it displayed an empty progress bar below.
So this is what Von meant. You have to practice to fill this bar.
Unlike his old design where players just assigned their level-up points into a skill. The interface showed "Mastery Level 1" beneath the bar.
Higher mastery, more slashes. That fits what Von said earlier.
Celia performed the exact same movements, but her swing produced nothing—not even a stirring breeze.
Von nodded as if expecting this. "This is why practice is important for swordplay. It's what puts many people off. Only the patient and dedicated can become true swordsmen. And I'll tell you now—none of them are kids. If you truly want to master and discover your sword technique, wait a few more years. That should be about time to find out about your alignment."
Vel straightened his posture. "Dad, me and Celia will go to the Academy when we're old enough."
Surprise, pride, concern flashed across Von's face.
Then his expression shifted, a teasing glint appearing. "Oh? You're saying you're planning to move out on your old man with a girl already?"
Vel's face turned red. He glanced sideways at Celia, who had turned brilliant crimson, her practice sword nearly slipping from her grasp.
"T-that's not—"
Von's hearty laugh echoed through the field as he clapped a hand on Vel's shoulder.
"Alright, alright. Don't turn like a beet, boy. I'm just messing with you."
Vel groaned, swatting his father's hand away. Celia avoided his gaze entirely.
Von straightened and sheathed his blade. "Enough for today. Keep practicing. Don't rush—remember patience."
He adjusted his sword belt and glanced toward Elnor's walls. "I've got guard duty soon. You two head back before it gets late."
"Got it, Dad."
"Thank you for teaching us... even if I didn't manage anything today."
Von turned with a small smile. "You'll get there. Just don't let Vel slack off."
As Von walked toward Elnor's gates, Vel and Celia stood in awkward silence.
Vel glanced at Celia, finding her already looking back. They froze for a moment before quickly looking away.
"Uh... so..."
"Yeah. We should—uh—head back... like your dad said."
Vel nodded too quickly as they walked side by side. Though they spoke little, an unspoken determination to improve hung between them, along with lingering embarrassment they would never admit.
---
The morning sun filtered through the window as Vel savored each spoonful of his porridge. These shared breakfasts had become rare since Landre's consecration, her duties at the church claiming more and more of her time. But today felt different - all four of them together at the table, just like before.
"Pass the honey, please," Landre's voice carried a newfound melodic quality.
Vel handed over the jar, studying his sister's refined movements. Her gestures had changed since the consecration, each motion deliberate and graceful. Even the way she stirred honey into her porridge seemed to carry an air of ceremony.
"I still couldn't believe you tried to sneak into my consecration," Landre's eyes sparkled with amusement. "The guards said they found you scaling up the cathedral wall."
Vel's cheeks flushed. "I just wanted to see what happened in there."
Mari chuckled, shaking her head at the memory. "You did make us proud that day, Landre. Facing those trials all on your own."
Curiosity got the better of Vel. "What keeps you so busy at the church these days?"
"There's so much to learn," Landre said, sounding a bit surprised herself. "Rituals, ceremonies, and even magic."
Vel perked up at the mention of magic. "What kind of magic?"
"Basic spells for now - mostly blessings and Light-based magic. The priests say I'm not ready for anything more advanced yet."
Part of Vel yearned to ask her to teach him—to show him one of those spells. But after everything she'd gone through—from copying prayers in Oakhaven to the consecration she faced alone—he couldn't just ask.
Instead, he focused on his porridge, treasuring this rare moment of family togetherness.
Landre's gaze drifted to the side, her fingers tracing the edge of her teacup. The faint smile she'd worn moments ago faltered, replaced by something quieter, heavier.
"When I truly step into the role," she began softly, her voice carrying a fragile undertone that made Vel's chest tighten, "I might get... more busy. Maybe even called to other places—places like Lona."
Landre's hands clasped tightly together on the table. She stared at her teacup without really seeing it. The warmth from moments ago seemed to drain from the room.
Von shifted in his seat, arms uncrossing as he leaned forward slightly. His gruff tone softened just enough to cut through Landre's lingering sadness.
"If that happens, it's because you've earned it. And it won't mean you're leaving us behind."
Mari moved closer to Landre, placing a comforting hand over hers. The lines of worry etched into Mari's face eased as she smiled gently.
"We'll always be proud of you. No matter where you go or how far."
A knot formed in Vel's throat as he watched his parents console Landre. Their words held love but also resignation—an understanding of the inevitability of the moment. It reminded him of Hanna, his sister from before, glowing with happiness on her wedding day while Giri smiled through the bittersweet ache of her absence.
Vel shifted in his chair and forced himself to speak.
"Lan-neechan," he started, trying for a grin. "No matter what other people call you, you're still my sister."
Landre blinked at him for a moment before her lips curved into a faint smile.
The morning's tender moment shifted as Von cleared his throat, his eyes fixing on Vel with sudden intensity.
"Speaking of Lona, are you serious about going to the Academy, Vel?"
Vel met his father's gaze and nodded firmly. The question didn't surprise him - he'd been expecting it.
"You have any idea what that entails?" Von's voice carried the weight of experience. "It's not that simple. You need a place to stay—far from home. Food to eat. On top of that, the fee to attend. Every day." He paused. "It's why most commoner kids end up in the guard or working farms. Not everyone can afford that path."
Vel's shoulders tensed. He knew the challenges ahead, but for him it was the only way forward—to learn more about this world. He needed something solid, a purpose, instead of wandering endlessly in Elnor forever.
Mari's spoon clattered against her bowl. "The Academy? When did you decide this?"
"I... I've been thinking about it for a while," Vel admitted, watching surprise bloom across both his mother's and sister's faces.
"If you're serious about it..." Landre set down her tea, a warm smile touching her lips. "Then I'd look forward to that. And your sister will do everything she can to help."
"But the costs..." Mari began.
"I just have a feeling," Landre interrupted gently, "if it's Vel, he'll be fine if he puts his mind to it." Her eyes met Vel's, filled with unwavering trust. "He always finds a way."
Vel noticed Von's expression darken as their father leaned back, arms crossed, lost in thought.
Landre's focus drifted, chin resting on her hand. She looked more tired than usual, though she hid it well from their parents. Mari cleared empty bowls and refilled cups with careful movements, pausing briefly as if gathering strength between tasks.
Finally, Von broke the silence with a low chuckle, shaking his head as if to dismiss an invisible weight. "Well, for some reason, people've been lookin' at me differently lately."
Vel raised an eyebrow, curious about what Von meant.
"Even my peers," Von continued, rubbing at his chin with one hand. "Ever since Landre got consecrated... seems like everyone in Elnor knows about it now."
Mari paused mid-motion near the stove and turned toward him with mild surprise.
Von smirked faintly and added with a touch of humor, "Even Lady Halen heard about it." He tapped a finger against the table for emphasis. "Guess bein' 'Father of Landre, Saint of Light,' has a nice ring to it after all."
Landre's cheeks flushed faintly at that remark as she cast Von a sheepish glance. Mari let out an unexpected laugh—a genuine one this time—as she shook her head fondly.
Vel couldn't help but grin slightly despite himself. He leaned back in his chair, feeling some of the tension in the room begin to dissipate under Von's joking tone.
"The farmers talk too," Mari said, amused. "I think they're more interested in gossiping about us than planting their crops lately."
Von shrugged but didn't argue.
"It could definitely help us moving forward," he said slowly, his voice measured. "Havin' weight in your words..."
They sat together, each lost in their own thoughts. Mari cleared dishes, stacking bowls quietly. Von stared at nothing in particular, mulling over something that seemed unlike him. Landre twisted a strand of her golden hair absently, her eyes distant.
Vel watched them all, and the scene reminded him of long-lost dinners from another life—where he, his parents, and Hanna sat together every evening.
He suddenly realized how much he'd missed that.
Yeah... he would miss this one day too.
---
Von's boots clicked against the polished stone floor, each step echoing through the manor's corridor. The weight of his decision pressed heavier with each passing moment.
A shaft of morning light pierced through the tall windows, illuminating the marble tiles. Von adjusted his collar, unused to wearing his formal attire instead of his usual guard uniform.
"This way," the personal guard motioned toward the courtyard pavilion. "Lady Halen will see you shortly."
Von stood under the ornate pavilion, the familiar urge to stand watch tingling in his muscles, though he was not on guard duty. He instinctively reached for a sword that wasn't there.
Before him sprawled a meticulously beautiful courtyard. Sunlight danced over colorful flower beds, their petals swaying in the breeze. Paved stone paths wound like ribbons between the manor buildings, all perfectly maintained.
At the far end, maids hung linens to dry, their movements precise. Others hurried along the paths with woven baskets and delicate tea sets, tending to their routines.
Von's throat felt dry. In all his combat experience, facing monsters and protecting others, he had never felt this kind of anxiety. The question he needed to ask had robbed him of sleep for days, turning in his mind like a restless beast.
His fingers drummed against his thigh as he waited, observing the orderly flow of manor life around him.
Von's gaze stayed fixed on the path to the manor, anticipation gnawing at him. The sun rose higher, illuminating Lady Halen's estate. Just as he thought of his family, a figure emerged from the main building.
Lady Halen glided through the door, her dark dress flowing like a shadow. Her silver hair framed her face, spilling down her shoulders, while a transparent veil obscured her features, adding to her mystique.
She walked slowly toward him, each step deliberate and graceful. Behind her trailed a female attendant. Von straightened, forcing himself to focus.
As Halen approached, she gestured for him to sit, her smooth movement underscored by an authority that reminded him of her position in Elnor.
The attendant set a delicate tea set on the stone table before retreating. The clink of porcelain broke the silence as Von lowered himself into a seat.
"I appreciate you meeting me." He shifted slightly in his chair, trying to mask his unease.
Halen poured tea into two fine cups, steam curling upward in ephemeral shapes. She offered one to him, and he accepted it with both hands, reveling in its warmth.
"I understand your family has faced many challenges lately," she said gently. Her gaze was steady beneath the veil.
Von sipped the rich, aromatic tea, its bittersweetness grounding him momentarily. "It has been difficult," he admitted.
"What prompts this visit?" Halen observed Von's reluctance to begin speaking.
Von's thumb traced the rim of his teacup. The floral pattern blurred under his calloused fingertip. "My son..." The words stuck like sap in his throat. "Vel. He's...shown interest in the Academy."
Halen's cup paused halfway to her lips. Steam curled around the edge of her veil. "The Lona Academy?"
"He's determined." Von set his cup down harder than intended, liquid sloshing near the brim. "Even after everything that's happened. The boy practices sword forms with sticks when he thinks we're not looking."
A swallow flitted past the pavilion, wings breaking the heavy silence. Halen's attendant appeared to refill their cups before Von could decline.
"You realize what you're asking." Her voice carried new weight. "The entrance exams alone require mastery that dismiss most of its candidates. Then there's the matter of..."
"Scholarship." Von's jaw tightened. "I served under Commander Yulric during the border wars. Earned my share of commendations."
"Commendations don't pay tuition." Halen's veil shifted as she leaned forward. "Even with a lord's recommendation, the fees would beggar most commoner houses. Your family barely..." She caught herself, teacup clinking against its saucer. "Why not apprentice him to Elnor's guards? I could arrange—"
"He needs more." Von's fist clenched on his knee. "The way he moves...the things he sees. That boy's got a spark I haven't seen since..." His throat worked.
Halen said nothing for so long that Von heard the distant clatter of kitchen pots. When she spoke again, her words fell like stones in a still pond. "You'd bind your son to the Academy's service? Their graduates don't return to provincial towns, Von."
Von's teacup trembled in his grip, sending ripples across the amber surface. Across the table, Halen's attendant froze mid-pour, droplets hanging suspended from the spout.
"He warned us about the Wulfang attack when grown men dismissed him as a frightened child." Von's voice roughened like bark under a whetstone. "Stood against that madman Trinon to save his sister without hesitation. Spends every day drilling sword forms in the kids square."
The swallow returned, landing on the pavilion's carved railing. Halen's veil tilted slightly as Von leaned forward, the chair groaning beneath him.
Halen's silver hair caught the sunlight as she turned to him. "And if the Academy forges him into something you no longer recognize?"
"He's more than just a child," Von said, meeting her gaze without flinching. "Vel has a gift. I know it."
Halen regarded him for a long moment, her veil shifting slightly with the breeze. "You speak with certainty, yet..." She hesitated, choosing her words carefully.
Von pressed on, leaning forward. "I'm here because I believe in his potential. I'm asking you to support him with a scholarship."
Silence thickened between them, filled only by distant sounds from the manor grounds.
Halen finally replied, her voice calm yet firm. "Scholarships are not given lightly."
Von nodded sharply, desperation creeping into his tone. "I would do anything in return—whatever it takes to secure his future there."
She raised an eyebrow, skepticism lacing her features as she studied him closely.
"But I need this to remain between us," he added quickly, urgency spilling forth. "I don't want Vel knowing I've put myself in debt because of him."
A flicker of surprise crossed Halen's face as she considered his words.
Von took a deep breath and continued with fervor. "He's already burdened with so much—his sister's situation and our family's struggles—he doesn't need to carry my debts as well." The idea weighed heavy on his heart.
Halen's expression shifted; she weighed his plea against her own principles and responsibilities.
"You understand this is not simply charity," she cautioned.
"I do," Von insisted. "But if we don't act now... If we don't give him this chance..."
Halen curled her fingers around the delicate teacup, her gaze drifting to the courtyard where blooming petals caught the light, momentarily infusing her thoughts with beauty.
Von waited, the silence heavy between them. Somewhere in the courtyard, a bird called. The sound felt impossibly distant.
Finally, she turned her attention back to him, her expression unreadable beneath the veil. "You misunderstand my hesitation."
Von leaned forward, desperation rising within him. "Then tell me what it is."
"I do not think you have anything to offer in return for a scholarship," she replied evenly. "However..." She paused, allowing a contemplative silence to fill the space.
Von's brow furrowed, anticipation mingling with frustration. He held his breath as Halen continued.
"I know about Landre's consecration. If Vel were to achieve greatness at the Academy—if he were to prove himself—a dual legacy from Elnor would indeed be advantageous."
The realization struck Von suddenly. He felt a glimmer of hope rise within him.
"Having two figures from Elnor could elevate my standing among the political factions," Halen continued, her tone now sharper. "That would be beneficial for both of us."
"What are you suggesting?"
Halen straightened, fixing him with a steady gaze. "I will support Vel's scholarship on two condition: you and your family must swear loyalty to Elnor should tension ever arise."
Von opened his mouth but closed it again as he processed her words. Loyalty came at a price—an oath binding them to this town that had sheltered them after Oakhaven's fall.
She raised an eyebrow, watching him carefully as if gauging his reaction.
"Additionally, Vel must pass a test to demonstrate he deserves this opportunity and is not wasting anyone's time—especially yours."
A flicker of doubt crossed Von's mind. Is Vel truly ready for such trials? Yet he felt an undeniable surge of pride thinking about his son's determination.
"Are you willing to accept these terms?" Halen's voice was firm, but there was also an underlying current of challenge in her words.
Von considered Halen's terms carefully, the implications heavy in his mind. The stakes had risen beyond his intentions. Loyalty to Elnor—his family's new home—felt manageable, but binding them to a political allegiance was daunting.
A test. He envisioned Vel facing an evaluation of his worthiness. The thought stirred both pride and apprehension. Could his son withstand such pressure?
He glanced at Halen, whose poised demeanor radiated confidence, unfazed by the gravity of the situation. If she believed in Vel's potential, perhaps he should too.
Taking a deep breath, Von nodded slowly, resolve settling within him. "I accept your terms."
Halen's lips curved slightly, acknowledging his decision. "Very well." She lifted her teacup, savoring the moment as if relishing victory.
"I will arrange the test soon. It will assess Vel's skills, character, and determination."
Von took that in. A test. He'd have to prepare Vel—make sure the boy understood what was at stake.
"Thank you," he said sincerely, feeling gratitude despite their differing positions.
Von nodded. "Prepare him well; my support depends on what I see."
They sat together under the pavilion's shade, the tea growing cold between them.
One burden lifted, but another settled in its place. If Vel succeeded, their family would be bound to Elnor's politics. Would Landre and Vel agree to such a thing? What if the Church pulled Landre one way while the Academy pulled Vel another—both serving interests that didn't align with Halen's? With Elnor's?
Von stared at the courtyard, watching the maids go about their work. He'd secured his son's future, but at what cost?
An ember of hope, yes. But uncertainty shadowed it.