David S.R
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Chapter 192 (Thank you for your support, Brent Ward!)
🕑 Added 2025-10-25 11:00:05 +0000 UTCTorvares leaned back in his chair, the firelight from the wall lantern catching the faint lines on his face. “Their timing is suspicious, yes,” he admitted, “but I don’t think the boy was acting—at least, not entirely. There was something genuine in his manner. Nervousness, maybe. Or shame that wasn’t rehearsed.”
Arslan raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. “You’re telling me you bought it? You think a southern noble heir just decided to grow a conscience?”
Torvares chuckled softly, shaking his head. “No, I haven’t gone senile yet, Arslan. I can still tell when someone’s wearing a mask. And that’s what made it interesting—he wasn’t. Not all the way, at least.”
Ludger watched the old lord carefully. Torvares was many things—calculating, shrewd, a man who’d survived politics long enough to weaponize courtesy—but naïve wasn’t one of them. If he said there was sincerity in the boy’s tone, it meant he’d seen something that didn’t fit the usual script.
Arslan sighed, scratching at his beard. “I’d ask if you’re losing your keen eye for people, but knowing you… probably not.”
Torvares gave a faint grin. “If I were, I wouldn’t have lived this long. Still, sincerity or not, his visit changes the game. They’re reaching out—with smiles and apologies this time—and that usually means they’re planning something bigger.”
The room went quiet for a heartbeat, the tension crawling back into the air.
Ludger exhaled slowly. “So either the kid meant it, or he’s the perfect decoy. Either way… they’re not finished with us yet.”
Ludger leaned back against the wall, arms crossed. “So,” he said after a moment of silence, “you’re considering their offer. That’s why you came all the way here.”
Torvares didn’t answer right away. He stared at the table for a few seconds, his eyes distant, calculating. Then he nodded slowly. “I am. Not because I trust them, but because pretending to ignore them would send the wrong message.”
He straightened his posture, the weight of authority returning to his voice. “In politics, boy, showing hesitation is worse than showing hostility. Fear is blood in the water. It tells your enemies that you’re cornered—or worse, that you can be cornered. And once they know that, every rival starts circling to take a bite.”
Ludger listened in silence as Torvares went on.
“That’s why I came here in person. If they’re playing a long game, they’ll expect us to act wary, defensive, maybe even insulted. They’ll expect us to huddle up and whisper behind closed doors. But if we act like their little move doesn’t concern us at all—if we treat it as nothing more than an odd courtesy—then they have to question whether we see through them.”
Kharnek grunted in agreement. “Show fear, and you invite war. Show teeth, and they call you a beast. But stay calm? That drives them mad.”
Torvares nodded slightly. “Exactly. We can’t control how the south moves, but we can control the story they tell about us. That’s why I’m here—not to bend, not to accept, but to make sure our side looks untouchable.”
Ludger gave a slow nod. “So we play the calm ones while they try to figure out which one of us is holding the knife.”
Torvares’s mouth curved into a small, knowing smile. “Precisely.”
Torvares let out a low sigh and rubbed his chin. “While I was still deciding how to handle the invitation,” he said, glancing toward Viola, “she made the decision for me.”
Viola straightened her posture, chin up, defiant as ever.
Torvares continued, “She said she wanted to attend the birthday party.”
That drew a few surprised looks around the room. Ludger blinked, while Arslan’s brow furrowed like he’d just heard the setup to a bad joke.
Torvares went on, voice calm but edged with dry amusement. “It’s been close to four years since she defeated Lucius in the capital’s tournament. The boy was what—eleven then?”
“Eleven and full of himself,” Viola muttered.
Torvares gave a small nod. “A lot can change in four years. Perhaps he grew up, perhaps not. But Viola wasn’t interested in that.”
He shifted his gaze to her again, pride and exasperation mixing in his expression. “She said she wanted to go simply to show that she wasn’t afraid. That no matter what games the Hakuen family or their allies were playing, the Lionsguard and Torvares house wouldn’t flinch.”
Ludger smirked faintly. “Sounds like her. Pretty words hiding some insane logic.”
Torvares ignored him and continued. “She also had a point. Attending would strengthen the guild’s reputation in the southern territories. Even if they’re scheming, appearances matter—and a bold visit under their roof tells every noble watching that we’re not bowing to pressure.”
Kharnek chuckled. “Bravery or stupidity. Hard to tell the difference sometimes.”
“True,” Torvares said, his tone half-approving. “But in politics, the two often look the same—until the dust settles.”
Viola crossed her arms, eyes gleaming. “Then let them watch. I’ll show them that Liosguard doesn’t send apologies.”
Arslan nodded slowly, already seeing where this was going. “So you want the Lionsguard to act as escorts for Viola,” he said, his tone matter-of-fact rather than surprised.
Torvares returned the nod. “Exactly. If she’s to attend that birthday, I’d rather she be surrounded by people I trust, not the capital’s peacocks in armor.”
He paused, fingers tapping lightly on the desk. “I’d go myself, but… well, you know how it is. The froststeel trade’s keeping our coffers steady and our allies fed. Finding new buyers while keeping the price from dropping takes time—and walking away from that now would weaken everything we’ve built.”
Arslan’s expression softened; he understood all too well the kind of balancing act Torvares lived by.
Torvares sighed, the weight in his voice genuine. “Still, I owe both of you an apology. I know you had every intention of turning down that southern guildmaster’s offer out of respect for my family. And now, by asking this, I’m dragging you back into their orbit anyway.”
Ludger shrugged lightly. “It’s not the first time politics has done that.”
Torvares allowed himself a small, tired smile. “No. But it doesn’t make it sit any easier on my conscience.”
The room fell quiet again, the air thick with the mix of duty, trust, and inevitability that always hung around the Lionsguard’s business with Torvares.
Ludger tilted his head slightly. “Let me guess,” he said. “You also want us to take the bridge job as well—to show that we don’t care about the nobles’ little schemes.”
Torvares gave a slow nod. “Yes… but only under one condition.”
Ludger raised an eyebrow.
“You’ll take it only if you can convince Gaius Stonefist to join you,” Torvares said. “Without him, that project will take you months, maybe longer. Even with the southern guild and the Hakuen family supplying manpower, the sheer scope would eat your time—and your health.”
Ludger’s lips curved into a sharp grin. “So it’s a challenge, then. My geomancy against the impossible.”
Torvares’s gaze softened, though his tone stayed firm. “It’s not a challenge, boy. It’s a trap disguised as an opportunity.” He paused, then added more quietly, “And I won’t have you spending half a year away from home—missing your siblings growing up—just to prove you can move a mountain faster than the rest of us.”
Ludger’s smirk faltered.
He hadn’t thought about it that way. The twins had only just started recognizing faces; by the time he’d return, they might be walking, maybe even talking. The thought sat heavy on his chest, heavier than any stone he could lift with magic.
Torvares caught that silence and gave a faint, understanding smile. “Power means nothing if you forget what you’re protecting with it.”
Ludger exhaled slowly and looked away. The grin didn’t return.
The room went quiet. The kind of quiet that stretched, heavy and thoughtful, while everyone weighed what had just been said.
Arslan was the first to lean back, his hand rubbing at his jaw. He didn’t speak, but Ludger knew that look — the one his father wore when he wanted to say yes to a challenge but had to think like a leader instead. He was torn between pride and practicality. Sending his son south for months didn’t sit right with him, but neither did turning down a chance to strengthen their standing.
Torvares stood steady, the silence not bothering him. He’d already made his decision — he just needed to see how the others would respond. To him, this wasn’t about money or even politics anymore. It was about presence. About showing every noble in the south that Lionfang and the Lionsguard weren’t some provincial fluke that could be ignored.
Viola crossed her arms, her jaw set. She was ready to go to that birthday, ready to face whatever snakes the southern families wanted to throw at her. But Ludger could see something else in her eyes — concern. She didn’t want him buried under another impossible task while she was being paraded through the nobles’ games.
Kharnek simply grunted, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, his expression unreadable. He respected strength — physical, political, didn’t matter — but even he could see this wasn’t a fight that could be won with muscle. His gaze flicked toward Ludger and Arslan. The chieftain of the north understood what it meant to carry too much on one’s shoulders.
Luna stood behind Viola, motionless, but her sharp eyes flicked between everyone in the room, quietly analyzing. She was the only one thinking in pure logistics — routes, timing, escorts, contingencies. Her mind was already assembling how this trip could happen without bloodshed.
And Ludger… he felt the weight of all of it. The offer, the politics, the expectations. A part of him still burned with the urge to take the bridge job — to prove he could do the impossible, just like his old master. But another part, the quieter and heavier one, kept reminding him that his world had changed. He wasn’t just a geomancer anymore. He was a brother, a teacher, a cornerstone of Lionsguard.
The silence stretched on a moment longer before anyone dared to breathe.
The silence in the room was broken by a low rumble of laughter.
Kharnek leaned forward from where he’d been lounging against the wall, his grin wide and disarming. “Well,” he said, voice carrying like rolling thunder, “if no one else is eager to cross that much land, I’ll go south.”
Every head turned his way.
He shrugged as if it were the simplest thing in the world. “Never seen the ocean before. Might as well take the chance. If you don’t mind,” he added, jerking his thumb toward the back of the room, “I’ll bring Freyra too. She could use the travel.”
The words hung in the air for a beat.
Arslan blinked. Torvares raised an eyebrow. Viola’s face tightened slightly, as if she wasn’t sure whether to laugh or protest. Even Luna’s expression flickered for a fraction of a second—something between confusion and faint horror at the logistics of dragging a northern warlord and his daughter to a noble banquet.
Ludger just rubbed his temples. Of course he’d say that.
The silence that followed wasn’t comfortable. It wasn’t tense, either—it was the collective sound of everyone trying to figure out whether Kharnek was joking or dead serious.
Judging by the prideful glint in his eye, he was absolutely serious.
Torvares was the first to speak, his tone carrying that careful balance between pragmatism and warning.
“Kharnek,” he began, “your presence would certainly… discourage anyone from trying anything foolish. No noble or guildmaster with half a brain would risk provoking a northern warlord under my banner. Your reputation alone would make most of them think twice before stirring trouble.”
The chieftain’s grin widened. “Then it’s settled.”
Torvares, however, didn’t smile. He lifted a hand, halting Kharnek’s enthusiasm before it got momentum. “But it could also backfire. Severely.”
That sobered the room.
Torvares continued, his voice low and precise. “Your strength might keep small schemers quiet—but it will provoke the bigger ones. The kind who measure status in bloodlines, not achievements. To them, seeing a northern warlord standing beside my granddaughter would be an open challenge. They’ll whisper that we’ve brought raiders to the empire, that we’re flaunting the Empire’s authority by placing a foreign power at our side.”
He looked directly at Kharnek now, his gaze as sharp as a drawn blade. “And once that rumor starts, you’ll become a target for every self-important fool looking to make a name. The brash, the reckless, the ones desperate for prestige—they’ll see you as the perfect opponent to prove their worth.”
Kharnek’s grin faded into a more thoughtful expression. He wasn’t insulted; if anything, he looked intrigued.
“So,” Torvares said, finishing his thought, “yes, your presence could prevent trouble… or it could light a different kind of fire. One we can’t easily put out.”
The room fell silent again, the weight of the words settling over everyone. Even Kharnek’s easy confidence dimmed slightly under the reminder: power and presence were double-edged blades, especially in a world that thrived on perception.
Kharnek let out a deep, amused chuckle that rolled through the room like thunder. “Then it’s decided,” he said. “I’ll go. Been too long since I’ve met anyone south of the mountains who can actually swing a weapon. My bones are starting to feel stiff, and only my foolish daughter keeps challenging me. I could use a proper warm-up.”
Freyra scowled. “You didn’t have to call me foolish.”
Kharnek just grinned wider. “You’d rather I call you weak?”
Arslan exhaled, somewhere between resigned and thoughtful. “If you’re going, then so am I,” he said. “I won’t send Viola into the south alone—not with nobles, schemes, and whatever else waiting there.” His voice dropped a little as he rubbed the back of his neck. “But… I’ll need to talk to Elaine first. Someone has to stay and keep the twins from turning the house into rubble with the cries… perhaps… not, I can’t say yet.”
That earned him a knowing look from Ludger, who could already imagine his mother’s reaction.
Arslan continued, more decisively this time. “We’ll take the job. I’ll start making preparations and look for other hands we can trust to cover things here.”
Ludger nodded, his expression steady. “Then that settles it.” He pushed off from the wall, dusting his gloves. “If this is certain, I’ll head out to find Gaius.”
Torvares’s gaze lingered on him. “You’ll have to convince him. And that won’t be easy.”
Ludger’s mouth curved into a small, sharp smile. “It never is.”
The tension in the room began to ease, replaced by the cold hum of purpose. Plans were forming, alliances tightening, and paths already diverging. Whatever waited in the south, the Lionsguard wouldn’t be walking into it blind.
Comments
dkpfrog
Tftc!
cadmean-handler
One hothead is already too many hotheads in the room. Now Freya is joining, nevermind her father, too
effigy
All ludgers problem seem to stem from Viola
