Aldric tilted his head slightly.
"Oh… how unfortunate, Young Master," he said with delicate politeness.
"So you truly intend to gamble your life… in a duel?"
Lucas frowned.
"…What?"
The word came out on its own.
"A duel?" he scoffed. "What duel? No one challenged you, dumbass."
The room turned awkward.
The Baron lifted a hand and pressed it to his forehead.
Tap.
Silvara closed her eyes briefly.
Then opened them again—sharper than before.
Aldric, however, smiled.
Not kindly.
Amused.
"My, my… extraordinary," he murmured.
"Absolutely extraordinary."
Lucas snorted. "Care to explain?"
Aldric raised one finger.
"In any civilized territory," he said lazily,
"anyone who dares to point a weapon at a knight—"
His gaze flicked toward The Great Hoe.
"Whether it is a soulbound weapon, or a common tool dressed as one—"
His smile thinned, aristocratic and cruel.
"—is formally declaring a duel."
Lucas's heart sank.
Silvara cursed inwardly.
The Baron released a slow breath.
