David stood at the window, staring out at the world beyond the estate walls. Three weeks had passed since that dinner. Three weeks of staying inside, healing, training his body to respond the way he needed it to.
His father had been clear. Stay indoors. Heal properly. Prepare for the academy.
So he had.
The view from his window stretched across manicured gardens and stone pathways. Trees lined the edges of the property, their leaves catching morning light. Beyond that, the city sprawled outward in layers of buildings and streets he'd never walked.
'I haven't been outside once since I got here.'
It felt strange. Being confined to luxury while a whole world existed beyond these walls. But today that changed.
He wore his academy uniform. A green jacket with brass buttons running down the front, fitted but allowing movement. The fabric was sturdy, meant for wear. A badge sat over his left breast, the Greyman family crest embroidered in silver thread. Dark pants tucked into boots that actually fit properly.
His eyes drifted to the garden below.
A guard stood near the hedges, his armor catching sunlight. Steel plates over leather, a sword hanging at his hip. Not full plate, but enough to look impressive. Flashy, almost. The kind of armor meant to show status as much as provide protection.
Beside him stood a maid. Young, maybe eighteen. She wore the standard uniform, plain and practical.
The guard's hand was on her waist. Too low. She tried to step back. He pulled her closer.
David's jaw tightened.
'Israel.'
He'd seen this before. Multiple times over the past three weeks. The guard harassing the girl. Taking liberties. And when David had confronted him about it, Israel had denied everything. Smiled. Said David must have been mistaken.
'Can't report him either. Gisele's favorite guard. Any accusation would be pointless.'
But David had a plan for the bastard.
'Soon. Just need to wait until we're away from the estate.'
A knock came at the door.
"Young Master Aron?" Mara's voice came through, muffled by the wood. "The carriage is prepared. Your father and family are waiting in the parlor."
"I'm coming."
"Yes, Young Master."
Her footsteps faded down the hallway.
David turned from the window and walked to the mirror mounted on the wall. He looked at his reflection.
Three weeks had changed things. The softness in his face had diminished slightly. He'd built muscle, not much but enough to notice. His body responded better now. Faster. More familiar.
He'd adapted.
'Not bad.'
He turned from the mirror and left the room.
The parlor was on the ground floor, a large space with high ceilings and furniture that looked more decorative than comfortable. Windows along one wall let in streams of morning light.
Four people waited inside.
Duke Greyman stood near the fireplace, hands clasped behind his back. He wore a simple jacket, dark and well-tailored. No decoration. His expression was neutral, unreadable.
Gisele sat in a chair near the window, her dress a deep burgundy with gold embroidery along the edges. Her hair was styled elaborately, held by pins that caught the light. She looked up when David entered, her expression cool.
Liam stood beside his mother, arms crossed. He wore a uniform different from David's. Black with silver trim, multiple badges across the chest. The uniform of The Warden, the advanced academy where those who'd awakened their abilities went to master them and become true heroes.
Mara stood near the doorway, hands folded, her face carefully neutral.
"Morning, Father," David said.
Duke Greyman turned. His eyes went immediately to David, taking in the uniform, the way he stood. "Morning, son."
David didn't look at Gisele or Liam. Didn't acknowledge them at all.
Duke's expression didn't change but something shifted in his eyes. "How's your head? The injury healed properly?"
There was concern underneath the words. Not overt. Not soft. But real.
Gisele's smile thinned. Liam's jaw tightened.
"It's fine," David said. "Healed completely."
Duke Greyman nodded once. Then he gestured to a guard standing behind him.
The guard stepped forward, carrying two cloth bags. He set both on the table.
The bags were small, not the large pouches merchants carried. But they were heavy. The cloth bulged with weight. Gold coins inside.
Duke picked up one bag and handed it to David. "For the academy. You know what to do when you get there." He paused, his eyes meeting David's. "Should you need more, send word. I'll have it arranged."
David took the bag. The weight of it was significant. Months of expenses, at least.
"Yes, Father."
Duke picked up the second bag and handed it to Liam, who took it with a practiced smile. "Thank you, Father."
Duke looked at both of them. His voice dropped, carrying weight. "Be careful. Both of you. Stay humble. Don't let status make you arrogant. You represent this family. Act accordingly."
"Yes, Father," David said.
"Yes, Father," Liam echoed.
Gisele stood, smoothing her dress. She walked to Liam and adjusted his collar, her touch gentle. "You're going to do great things, darling. I just know it." She smiled warmly at him. "Do write when you arrive. Let us know how you're settling in."
Liam nodded. "Of course, Mother."
She glanced briefly at David, her expression cooling. "Safe travels to you as well, I suppose."
Then she turned back to Liam, ignoring David entirely.
Duke gestured to guards standing near the doorway. "Help them with their luggage. Get it loaded into the carriages."
Two guards stepped forward. One moved toward Liam's bags. The other was Israel, wearing that flashy armor David recognized.
Israel approached David with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "It'll be an honor to accompany you, Young Master."
David looked at him for a moment. "I didn't pick you. She did."
He glanced briefly at Gisele.
Israel's smile didn't falter. "An honor nonetheless, Young Master."
He picked up David's luggage and carried it toward the door.
Gisele had convinced Duke to assign Israel specifically to Aron. She'd argued he was reliable, experienced, perfect for ensuring her stepson's safety. Duke had agreed without question.
David knew better.
He turned to his father and bowed slightly. "I'll see you when I return."
Duke Greyman nodded once. "Safe travels."
David walked toward the door.
"Do try not to embarrass us too badly, Aron," Gisele said, her voice sweet and dripping with false concern. "The academy has standards, after all."
David didn't stop walking. Didn't look back. Just kept moving toward the door. Her voice faded behind him, as meaningless as everything else she said.
Liam smirked but said nothing.
---
Outside, two carriages waited. One headed north toward The Warden. The other west toward the academy.
Liam's carriage was already loaded. He climbed in without ceremony, and moments later it pulled away, disappearing down the northern road.
David's carriage sat waiting. Dark wood with the Greyman crest painted on the side. Two horses stood harnessed to the front, their coats brushed and gleaming.
Movement caught his eye. He looked up.
Mara stood at a second-floor window, her hand raised in a small wave.
David's expression softened slightly. He nodded once before turning away.
'She's been helpful. More than she needed to be.'
"Young Master," Israel called from beside the carriage. "We should be on our way."
David walked to the carriage and climbed inside without responding.
Israel closed the door and climbed up to sit with the driver.
Inside, David settled into the cushioned seat and looked out the window as the carriage began to move.
The estate gates opened. The horses pulled forward.
Duke Greyman could be seen standing in the parlor window, hands still clasped behind his back. He watched the carriage roll through the gates and onto the western road. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes followed his son until the carriage disappeared from view.
He stood there for a long moment after it was gone.
Then he turned away from the window.
---
The carriage rolled through the city streets. Buildings made of stone and wood lined both sides. Merchants called out their wares. Children ran between carts. Guards patrolled in pairs.
David watched it all through the window. A world he'd only read about, now real and moving past him.
The city thinned as they traveled west. Buildings gave way to farmland. Fields stretched in every direction, broken by occasional clusters of trees.
Hours passed. The sun moved across the sky, casting long shadows as afternoon turned to evening.
The road grew rougher. Less maintained. Fewer travelers.
Israel called down from the driver's seat. "Young Master, we ought to make camp here for the night. There be no village nearby, and these roads grow dangerous after dark."
David looked out at the surrounding area. Trees clustered on both sides of the road. Open fields beyond that. Isolated.
"Fine," he called back.
The carriage pulled off the road into a small clearing. Israel and the driver climbed down and began setting up camp. They built a fire, unpacked supplies, prepared a simple meal of dried meat and bread.
David ate in silence, watching the flames.
Israel sat across the fire, his armor removed and set aside. He ate methodically, his eyes occasionally flicking to David.
The driver finished his meal and moved to his bedroll, settling down for the night. His snoring started minutes later.
Israel poked at the fire with a stick, sending sparks up into the darkness. "Young Master..." His voice was casual, almost too casual. "What be your relationship with that maid? Mara, was it?"
David looked up. "Huh?"
Israel's expression shifted slightly. He'd noticed something in David's tone. "Just curious, Young Master. She seemed quite.. fond of you, waving like that."
"She's a maid," David said flatly. "That's it."
The lie tasted wrong even as he said it, but letting Israel think otherwise would only make things worse for her.
"Of course, of course." Israel's voice smoothed out, like he was trying to recover from a misstep. "Meant no offense. Long journey ahead. Thought we might talk a bit."
David stared at him across the fire. "Right."
Israel smiled, but it looked forced. "Best we get some rest. Tomorrow will be a full day of travel."
David nodded. He moved to the bedroll that had been laid out and settled onto it, pulling a blanket over himself.
The fire crackled. Israel stayed awake, keeping watch, his silhouette dark against the flames.
David stared up at the stars through the tree branches overhead.
'Tomorrow.'
In the original story, Aron died tomorrow. An assassination meant for someone else. Wrong place, wrong time. A blade in the dark that ended him before the story even really began.
'The assassination happens tomorrow.'
David closed his eyes.
He'd need his energy.
Because tomorrow, he wasn't planning to die.