Arthur and Jacob had spent nearly half an hour sitting outside the meeting room in silence, catching their breath and recovering from the crushing pressure they had endured earlier. The hallway remained quiet except for the occasional sound of servants passing at a distance, careful not to disturb the two boys. The weight of what had just occurred sat heavily on both of them, and neither had found the words to speak since they'd exited.

At last, the door creaked open, and Henry poked his head out with a cheerful, lopsided grin plastered across his face. "Come on, you two," he called in a light voice that contrasted the earlier tension. "You can't keep us waiting all day."

Arthur glanced at Jacob, who gave him a simple nod before walking in without a word. Arthur lingered for a second, took a long breath through his nose, and then followed, trying not to let his nerves show as he stepped back into the lion's den. Thankfully, the mood inside had shifted. The suffocating pressure from before had lifted, replaced with something quieter, more restrained like a storm had passed and left only drizzle in its wake.

Jeremiah sat at the head of the table, his posture upright but not aggressive, his voice calm and level. "Arthur," he began without ceremony, "in ordinary circumstances, if someone were targeted by Whisper and brought the matter forward, the royal family would offer them protection without hesitation."

Arthur's shoulders perked up slightly at those words, but they dropped just as quickly when Jeremiah continued.

"Unfortunately, your circumstances are far from ordinary. Given your bloodline, the royal family is more likely to eliminate you than safeguard you."

Jacob, who had remained quiet beside him, felt Arthur's fingers twitch at those words. He turned slightly and caught the way Arthur's jaw tightened as if he were preparing to defend himself but he didn't get the chance.

"However," Jeremiah went on, clasping his hands in front of him, "I consider it a waste to allow a Grade 1 sorcerer, and more importantly, a friend of my son, to die for something he cannot control. Therefore, I have decided that, for now, we will take responsibility for you."

Jacob let out a breath through his nose not relief, exactly, more like acknowledgment. He had expected this outcome. Whatever else could be said about his father, the man was never one to let a useful opportunity pass him by.

A Grade 1 sorcerer was rare and immensely valuable, especially to a knight-focused household like theirs. This decision wasn't just kindness; it was strategy. Skydrid would now be seen as Arthur's saviour, and Arthur would feel indebted. That sort of emotional leverage could easily become loyalty.

Scanning the room, Jacob could already tell who had supported the decision and who hadn't. Jeremiah, of course, was the one to declare it. Hera sat off to the side, smiling warmly, clearly pleased to have helped Arthur, whether or not she considered the political benefit was hard to tell. Alex, on the other hand, had his arms crossed and a frown etched onto his face.

His connection to the second prince made it clear he would've preferred this matter go straight to the crown. Henry was still leaned back in his chair, feet resting on the table, an unlit cigar dangling from the side of his mouth while he spun a lighter between his fingers.

Isaac's face remained unreadable, though his aura had taken on a sharper edge, like cold glass. Isa, sitting beside him, kept sneaking glances at her brother, mimicking his expression almost exactly, Jacob suspected she simply went along with whatever he decided.

Arthur, meanwhile, looked as if he were trying to steady himself. Relief flashed across his face for a brief moment, but it quickly faded, replaced by worry.

"What about my siblings?" he asked, voice tight with concern.

It was not Jeremiah who answered this time, but Isaac, whose tone was cool and clipped. "You're being offered protection, and yet you're already asking for more. At the very least, try to act grateful."

Isa chimed in, echoing him. "You haven't even thanked the lord yet, and you're already making requests."

Realizing his mistake, Arthur quickly dropped to a deep bow, voice firm with respect. "Thank you for your kindness, my lord."

Jeremiah sighed and nodded. "The fact that you're descended from the Slautre household is not a secret. The royals already know. I looked into your siblings, both the boy and the girl have red hair and eyes. Because of that, we can't shelter them, even if we wanted to."

He leaned forward, resting his chin on his hands. "You should consider it a blessing they haven't been executed already. Most likely, they're alive because you became a Grade 1 sorcerer, and the royal family is trying to avoid burning a bridge before they understand your value."

Arthur's shoulders sank further, a haunted look settling into his eyes. But Jeremiah wasn't finished.

"The royal family is already watching over them. Whisper wouldn't go through the trouble of challenging the king's guards just to eliminate your siblings. For now, they're safe."

Arthur nodded slowly, absorbing the words, but his voice still carried a hint of uncertainty. Jacob could tell he wasn't fully reassured but what could be done?

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Jeremiah's gaze shifted toward Jacob. "This is a good opportunity," he said. "You'll have someone to train with, someone to discuss sorcery with. Arthur will stay in your room for the foreseeable future."

Jacob blinked, expression darkening almost immediately. "I don't think that's necessary," he said, voice low. "We have plenty of rooms. Surely he could stay in one of them instead."

"It's not up for discussion," Jeremiah replied with finality. "He'll also be joining you in your sessions with Alex. You're not to skip practice anymore."

Jacob clenched his fists but said nothing, the protest already caught in his throat. One look from his father was all it took to kill any argument. With a quiet click of his tongue, he turned and left the room.

Arthur hesitated, then bowed once more before hurrying after him.

—

Jacob was already sitting at his desk when Arthur entered the room, a massive leather-bound tome spread open before him. His eyes scanned the pages quickly, angrily, as if trying to absorb the words just to spite the situation. His fingers flipped through the parchment with sharp motions, muttering irritably to himself.

Arthur stood near the entrance for a moment, then stepped inside, trying to sound casual. "Is it really that bad… staying with me?"

Jacob didn't even look up. "Yes," he said flatly. "It is that bad. I don't want to stay with you. I don't want to talk to you. You're loud, you're annoying, and you're a distraction."

Arthur blinked, taken aback by the sharpness of the reply. Jacob turned a page with force, continuing to read without acknowledging him further.

The silence was heavy again, but this time, it was a different kind of tension. Not fear. Just irritation.

Back in the meeting room, the tense silence that had blanketed the space slowly began to lift. For a moment, no one spoke, as if still processing the decision that had just been finalized, but then, like a sudden breeze through still air, Alex let out a loud and unrestrained laugh, his voice echoing warmly off the high stone walls. "Father," he said between chuckles, "you really are cruel. Jacob's going to be sulking for a week if not more. He might even skip dinner just to make a point."

At the far end of the table, Henry finally flicked the wheel of his silver lighter, igniting the end of his thick cigar with practiced ease. He took a slow, thoughtful drag, exhaled a steady stream of smoke, and grinned faintly as the rich scent filled the room. "He's always been like that," Henry said with a shake of his head, amusement lacing his words. "Father's been pressing our buttons since we were barely walking. Don't think he's ever once missed a chance."

Sitting upright with his usual poise, Isaac gave a small, deliberate nod, his face expressionless but his gesture carrying silent agreement. Isa, seated beside him with a casual elegance that contrasted her brother's rigid stillness, giggled softly as she reclined slightly in her chair. "Still better than what he had before," she murmured, her eyes glittering with amusement. "Training with Jessica? Come on. The look on his face that day…" She pressed a hand over her mouth, barely holding back another laugh. "That wasn't just defeat. That was the most ashamed I've ever seen him."

Alex snorted. "So there's still some pride buried under all that sulking, huh?" He leaned forward and added with a smirk, "Good to know the kid hasn't lost everything."

Warm laughter trickled through the chamber then, a shared chuckle that seemed to melt away what little tension remained. It was a rare, private sound, one that didn't match the public perception of the Skydrid family ruthless, cold-blooded strategists whose ambition rivalled the royal court itself.

Outsiders often imagined them as a nest of vipers, siblings constantly jostling for inheritance or influence, held together by nothing but blood and fear. But the truth was far more complex and far warmer.

Their household did have structure, discipline, and ambition, of course. That much was undeniable. But it was also shaped by affection, by long-standing bonds, and by the quiet understanding that their father, Lord Jeremiah and mother, Lady Hera had never once let their children drift apart into rivals.

They were a family first and foremost, and it showed in moments like this: in the laughter, in the teasing, and in the unspoken solidarity that connected them all like threads in a tightly woven fabric.

Jeremiah leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the polished surface of the table. His voice was quieter now, less commanding and fatherlier. "Go easier on him, Alex," he said, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Push him, yes. But don't break him. There's no point in pushing so hard that he stops walking altogether."

The words were simple, but the meaning behind them was clear. To Jeremiah, Jacob's reluctance to train with Jessica hadn't been a sign of weakness it had been a final, necessary test. Pride, after all, was something the Skydrids valued deeply. Without it, strength meant little. And in Jacob's frustration, in his refusal to accept another defeat so easily, Jeremiah had seen what he'd been hoping for. Not just talent, not even resolve, but a refusal to lose. Pride that would make you abandon battle before you shamed yourself.

Later that evening, long after the meeting had ended and most of the estate had returned to a more peaceful rhythm, the door to Jacob's room creaked open once more. Arthur, still sitting cross-legged on the bed with a slight frown on his face, turned toward the sound.

Belemir stepped through, his posture perfect as always, his white gloves pristine and his voice composed when he offered a shallow bow. "Young Master Arthur. Young Master Jacob. I hope I'm not disturbing your evening."

Jacob didn't look up from the thick, rune-etched tome he had been furiously flipping through for the last hour, but Arthur tilted his head, curious. "Is something wrong?" he asked.

"Not at all," Belemir replied with a small shake of his head. "I simply came to remind you both that the prince's banquet is scheduled for four days from now. Preparations have already begun, and attendance is expected."

Arthur blinked, clearly surprised. "Wait… I'm going?" he asked, glancing from Belemir to Jacob and back again. "I thought I was just staying here for a while."

With a patient smile, Belemir clasped his hands behind his back. "Lord Jeremiah has formally registered your adoption with the kingdom," he explained. "Your legal name has been changed to Arthur Skydrid, and the merchant who had previously been responsible for your care has been informed of the arrangement. As such, you are expected to attend all official family functions from this point forward."

Arthur froze for a moment as he took that in. For a second, a storm of emotions crossed his face disbelief, hesitation, and something else more difficult to name before he allowed himself a hesitant smile. "So I'm Jacob's older brother now, huh?" he said, clearly aiming for humour to mask the swirl of emotion behind his words.

From his desk, Jacob let out a faint groan, finally lifting his eyes from the page and shooting Arthur a glare. "You mean younger brother," he muttered under his breath, clearly still irritated but too tired to argue any further.

Arthur grinned at that, leaning back slightly on the bed with a laugh that filled the quiet room. "Sure, sure. Younger. Let's go with that."

Jacob said nothing, already returning to his book, but his grip on the pages had softened just a little.

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