I took a minute first to check my boots, look over the terrain and focus on my mana pool.

Twice a week, I would ride with Saul and we would find some place to train. It wasn't as serious as the sword bouts in the yard, but made you think of how you could use or get hindered by the terrain.

"Come when you're ready." Saul shouted and I lunged towards him, careful to run over on the rocky outcrop as I had determined beforehand.

Saul was expecting me though. I didn't really have much choice with this uphill slant and the uneven footing but to charge directly at him.

My sword rebounded off his with a loud clang and I hopped backwards before Saul could counter attack.

I almost tripped though, as my heel landed right between two edges, my ankle twisting a bit as I sturdied it with mana.

That was another of the mana techniques father and Saul taught me this year. Instead of using the mana to strengthen the explosive force of muscles and tendons, it was a cushioning to protect from external force.

Although Sam had passed on some of his mastery of mana circulation and condensation to me, he had not actually been familiar with any of the internal mana uses that made up father and Saul's mana techniques.

"Head, arm!" Saul called out where he would have hit me but his sword only whipped up and down right over those targets, not actually striking as I regained my footing. "Unlucky, but next time, you roll. Careful not to hit your head, but better practise now than find yourself without it in a battle."

It was just a split second as I sturdied the foot and took a step back, but Saul took full advantage of that time.

I grimaced and tried to massage my foot through the leather boot as I waited for him to call again.

"Now, again."

There were a few more exchanges. I tried to use a thicket of trees to decrease the bigger man's range of movement, parried and ran more than once around a rock or stump to get the high ground and even forced Saul to do a full flip as I cornered him between me and a ridge, only for him to reverse our positions on me and deny me any small victory.

It was discouraging, but Saul seemed pleased as he decided we had trained enough for the morning and opened up the satchel from where he pulled out the food from the kitchens.

"Did you speak to your father about having a friend over?" Saul brought up a conversation we had had last time we came out. "It's not good for you to spend all your time in Gristol boxed up in your room like that. Why not your cousin, Pricel or that cousin your father talked about?"

"I'm not boxed up," I said, while taking the sandwich he held out to me. "I'm out here with you, and I train with father other days and I even went out to lower town with Simila yesterday. It was really exciting."

More than just exciting, but I didn't have to tell Saul about Giacob and the orphans.

"Haah, it's not the same, Tilly. You know, I only ever see you smile in Olwick. You get along with the villagers there, but you won't be able to forever."

"Why not? Crion is going to be my knight, like you are to father. And Nayen..."

Nayen had come along a bit over the past couple years. I was excited to show him the stasis rune. He was always sceptical of Sam's theories, of real magic, but that would bring him around.

"You wouldn't understand now, but you will grow further apart from the village children however much you may not want it. Perhaps you can take on Crion like your father did me. He could become a knight still, though he can't even beat you anymore. He needs a lot more training. Nayen on the other hand..." Saul trailed off.

"Crion is good." I protested. How could Crion be compared with me? Saul said I would even surpass father someday, so it was unfair for Crion to be held to the same standard.

"Right. Anyway, Nayen is training to be your valet," Saul went back to his previous thought. "It's not a bad thing to trust a valet, but it's not the same as a friend. Plus, you really should get to know other peers of yours."

"Achoo!" I sneezed as I got the taste of pepper from the lamb up my nose. I liked the lamb ham and the slightly sweet milk bread, but I should ask the chef to put less pepper and butter. I always forgot though, since I usually put together my own breakfasts at the table in the living room.

"So? You heard me right," Saul reminded me to respond to him.

"Mmh, I'll try," I mumbled.

"And you'll talk to your father about that cousin?"

"Oh 'kay," Saul was talking about Vaidel, a boy from father's relatives from his mother's side. My grandmother, the duke's first wife had passed away a long time ago.

It was easy enough to say okay to Saul, since I knew I wouldn't see Vaidel this year anyway. Even if father did invite him and his parents, we would only see them next year when they came to Gristol, much like we did.

I didn't know him, or much about his family. He wasn't the heir to the county, but father seemed to have some connection with them.

Particularly after meeting Giacob, I wasn't so keen or trusting of my family and all their shitty consipiracies. But perhaps these other more distant relatives would be better company.

I heard Saul sigh again but he thankfully let off the topic so that we could climb back on our horses and start heading back.

It's not like I was actively trying to avoid making friends with other noble children, but most of them were either wimpy like Pricel or overly aggressive and prideful like Geran Clous. There wasn't really much of a middle ground.

I don't know why he was so negative about Crion and Nayen anyway.

Cinder clopped over a small but elegant stone bridge as we returned to the manor. It crossed a brook that would follow the forest until joining with the Tachys that I heard roaring, like a whisper in the distance.

There was a waterfall up North of Gristol, where the river skirted the King's hunting grounds and then disappeared into the wild lands north of Farand.

Then we were soon back in Seventhill and I was putting Cinder back in his stall. The small escape from these politics was done, and now I had to ready myself for the afternoon ahead of me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"We shall be back shortly, Byl," father called to the man from Olwick who now acted as our coachman.

I wasn't paying attention to father or our coachman though.

Since we had arrived in the courtyard of grandfather's palace, all I could see were the three men dressed in the same red and grey livery that Byl and Simila wore. We were all Feles, but these ones had a golden flair in a ring around the collar showing they were directly in the duke's household.

Less conspicuous was the small rune just above the collar, drawn directly on his skin. It was the same as the ones the servers at the Elafoz's palace had.

I started as Lyum greeted us and settled my shoulders back and imagined holding a sword over my head, the top of my head drawn towards the pommel above.

He reminded me of Sir Barker, the lines and shape of their faces so similar and memorable.

Sir Barker taught me that knights and lords have to keep their dignity and posture. If you look guilty, you are guilty. If you look weak, you invite aggression.

Sir Barker was not an aristocrat and didn't put on any airs, but he was manly and strong, even in the last years of his life. He might not have been a mage as my imagination had dressed him up to be in my youth, but he was still a role model and I would not let grandfather do me or Sir Barker's memory any shame while I was here.

"The duke is meeting with another currently, so you will have to wait outside his study for a moment."

Grandfather's moustached butler said as he brought father and I inside and up the curved marble staircase that was so much smaller than I remembered. He gestured to a divan for us to sit in the hall, just beside the wooden door.

"Thank you Lyum," father told him as we sat side by side.

Who is meeting grandfather? I wondered and thought I could make out grandfather's voice behind the door.

"...the county?" he was asking someone.

A moment passed, the other man's voice too muffled to make out, but then I heard grandfather clearly as he raised his voice to respond.

"I thought I was clear that you would become Cofferer. What's this about inheriting the county?"

I had no clue who the Cofferer was, but I knew at least that it was one of the ministers of the kingdom.

"Father," a woman's voice, perhaps because of the higher pitch, was discernible, "Javir could be Count of Herden with your support."

"Don't call me father, woman," My grandfather responded harshly. "Both of you will stop this nonsense. Your uncle Count Zeden Abtulla already has a perfectly fine heir and I have no intention of interceding in the affairs of Hartun."

"Duke, please don't deny brother this oppor-"

"I said no. Your brother will do as I say. Am I clear?" there was a heavy silence before grandfather continued "You can go back to your father and remind him about Venua. I am tired of cleaning up his messes. This time he shall not be making a new one."

I heard another mumble. It sounded like the man responding sullenly.

There was a shuffle of footsteps and then the door opened to let them out, though I couldn't see who they were yet because of the doorframe.

"You two stay here, I'm not done with you yet."

The door closed, but not before a man who I hadn't seen before came out.

Not 2 people then, there must have been 3 people inside, just that one of them hadn't spoken since we got here. The woman was calling grandfather 'father' though. Was this Lady Marian's relative?

"Sivis? What are you doing here?" the man said in a tone to match his glare.

He only looked slightly older than Giacob, but despite all his finery, I found Giacob to be more impressive.

"You think I have nothing better to do than be pulled into your family's issues?" We heard grandfather's voice boom from behind the door again.

I saw the eyes in the man's grouchy face squint at father.

"You heard all that?" He asked, "Don't you dare say a word to anyone."

Grandfather's voice overlapped his."You two give me enough trouble as it is. Have you no shame?" He sounded like he was scolding children. "One of you spends all your time sniffing for gold while the other can't get their nose out of a wineglass. And now you want me to ruin my authority in Farand for what? So that my pawn placed in the palace runs back to the countryside?"

Father bowed his head as the man's face flushed red at the commotion behind the door.

Did grandfather not know we were here? Was he doing this on purpose to humiliate this man?

"Huheuheu," a laugh came out of the man's stomach, "don't just bow like a dumb mute. You can laugh at me." His belly kept on laughing autonomously, interrupting him as he tried to speak. "All these years, you're still with that bitch and I'm now the one trapped under your father's claws. Isn't it ironic?"

I saw a tear roll down his cheek.

He turned away, perhaps noticing it as well and his laughter cut off abruptly.

"I won't let you come back. My sister would never forgive me."

His back disappeared from view as he went down the stairs and the door beside us opened again.

I hadn't recognised the man, but I did recognise the couple who walked out now. It was Stegan and Miladona Feles, who I had seen up on the dais uncorking the first bottle of wine at the Elafoz's.

Miladona was looking the other way as they walked out, whispering something at her husband, perhaps, but she stopped and turned when she saw Stegan's eyes widen.

"Brother?" Stegan said.

"You." She followed, with something that looked like fear in her eyes.

"Tilvrade?" My grandfather said from inside the room, as if he was part of the conversation.

I darted a look at father, who still had his head bowed and was looking a bit sick.

He just raised his eyebrows at me, telling me to go inside.

I bowed to Stegan and Miladona, not opening my mouth since I wasn't sure if I was supposed to call them Aunt and Uncle or avoid doing just that.

Miladona frowned and saw me for the first time, confused that it was me who was called by grandfather and not father, but then there was a glimmer of recognition and she and Stegan stepped out of my way.

I looked not at them, but at Lyum. I had completely forgotten about him, but he was still standing next to the door. He nodded his head at me in quiet encouragement as he held the door.

I paused as Lyum closed the door behind me, distracted, despite myself by the shelves that were chock full of thick old books. Above the shelves were the portraits of old men and everything was lit by a set of luxurious gas lamps that could be mistaken for flowers, each with an enormous green leaf curling around the flame as a shade and the figure of a woman woven into the silver trunk that made a stand.

And then I saw it.

It was impossible to miss the large triptych on a purpose-made shelf on the right side of the room. The panels were closed showing only the cover painting.

On the left panel, it showed a man in profile, from behind, and on the right, their hand, cleverly lifting a key towards a silver lock that held the panels shut. It seemed like it was telling the watcher to unlock it themselves with the real key but was also perhaps an allegory of the danger in curiosity, foreshadowed by the expectant purple skinned creature that was peeking out from the top right corner.

But the man's hair was white, his hands youthful. He was just like the men of Lucia and I was sucked into my curiosity, wondering what he would see when he opened the panels.

Of course, I calmed myself down, he wasn't a man of Lucia. He wore a robe, unlike the trousers of Sam's wardrobe or even the ones I had on right now. He was probably one of the elves of the North, but still, what did those hide?

"Tilvrade Feles." He spoke, breaking my wonder, his hands steepled in front of him as he examined me.