Hadrien had been away from the keep for days, inspecting border garrisons and overseeing minor skirmishes across Veloria. The monotony of rulership, he thought, could wait; reports would come in their own time.
Now, seated at his desk in the quiet of the chamber, a courier arrived with a sealed letter. Kael's handwriting was precise, deliberate—a careful record of every observation.
Regarding the prisoner Elias Veyne.
Hadrien unfolded it, scanning the pages. The letter detailed the lessons, the exercises, the objects pointed to and repeated. But what caught his attention was more subtle: the notes revealed not just quick learning, but understanding. Elias did not fumble like a frightened commoner; he noticed patterns, remembered names, corrected himself instinctively, and applied each correction immediately.
Not a child. Not even a typical prisoner.
Kael's sketches showed Elias' hand movements, the objects he could already name, even his attempts at pronunciation. Comments in the margins emphasized his astonishing rate of learning despite exhaustion and the rough environment he had endured before being separated from the pit.
He is… a learned man, Hadrien thought. Sharp, deliberate, disciplined. Not born to labor, not born to obey blindly.
At the bottom of the letter, Kael had added a question, almost hesitatingly:
"Your Grace, who is this prisoner? Where did he come from?"
Hadrien frowned. He did not know. Weeks ago, knights had brought Elias to the keep, a silent, unclaimed soul. His origin was a mystery. He could only reply:
"I do not know. He was delivered by the knights. No one claims him. No one knows his origin. Continue your observations."
Kael had also included Elias' exercises from the past days: labeling parts of the body, naming objects, simple commands. Hadrien's eyes lingered on the margins: notes about hesitation, correction, rapid improvement. It was one thing to repeat; it was another to think ahead, to adjust instinctively.
Curious. Remarkably so.
Hadrien tapped the letter with a finger, contemplating. This was no ordinary prisoner; this was someone who could think, anticipate, and learn faster than many soldiers or scribes in the keep. The boy's time in the pit had hardened his body, but his mind remained agile. The separation from the pit, from the endless toil and brutality, had revealed it clearly.
We shall see how far he can go.
He gave a brief command, jotting a short note at the bottom: "Keep the lessons going. Observe him closely. Interfere only when necessary. Continue sending detailed reports while I am away. I will decide how to proceed upon my return."
A slow smile touched Hadrien's lips. Boredom had given way to curiosity. This prisoner, silent and unassuming, was quietly building a reputation of intelligence and competence.
He is no commoner. Not at all.
Hadrien folded the letter carefully, eyes lingering on the margins where Kael had noted Elias' corrections and insights. This was a mind to watch.