The knight nodded and continued. "As for Lord Liam — he has been passive. No significant movent from his faction since your departure. He appears to be waiting."
The Duke was quiet for a mont. His eyes moved across the courtyard slowly, taking stock of things Julian couldn’t fully read from the outside.
Then he said, "Moth."
A younger knight near the back of the group ca forward. He was noticeably younger than the others — early twenties at most.
"Show Kraven around the castle," the Duke said.
Moth looked at Julian.
His hesitation was brief, yet entirely visible. Julian understood it without needing Kraven’s mories to clarify. The rumors about the exiled young lord had clearly spread, and whatever version of Kraven this boy had heard, it had been far from reassuring.
Julian looked at him.
"Co, Moth," he said. He kept his voice easy. "I don’t bite."
Moth blinked once.
Then sothing in his expression relaxed, and he gave a short nod. "Yes, young lord. This way."
**
The castle was larger on the inside than the exterior suggested.
Julian had ford a rough internal map from Kraven’s mories, but mory was always flatter than the real thing. Walking through it now, he understood the difference between knowing a place and being inside it.
Moth walked beside him at a respectful distance. He had found his footing quickly after the initial hesitation, and his pace was steady.
They moved through the main corridor first. It was wide enough for four people to walk side by side, floored in dark stone that had been worn smooth in the center by decades of use.
Along the upper sections of the walls, portraits were hung at regular intervals, each one depicting figures from past generation. Julian’s gaze flicked from one portrait to the next as they passed, taking in the details of the faces and attire.
Generations of Astrans.
"How long have you been posted here," Julian asked.
"Twenty days, young lord," Moth said.
Julian looked at him briefly. "Twenty days."
"Yes." A short pause. "I was transferred from the eastern garrison. Lord Astran requested additional personnel ahead of the King’s visit."
Julian nodded slowly and returned his attention to the corridor ahead.
Twenty days ant Moth had no personal experience of Kraven. Whatever he knew was secondhand rumor. In so ways that made him easier to navigate. In others it made him less predictable.
They passed through an archway and entered a wider hall. Here, the ceiling rose higher than in the corridor, giving the space a sense of openness and grandeur. In the center of the hall sat a massive circular table, surrounded by chairs that hinted at the room’s use for important etings and gatherings.
"The great hall," Moth offered, gesturing briefly.
"I know it," Julian said.
Moth nodded and didn’t elaborate.
They continued on. A smaller corridor to the left led toward the library — Julian caught the sll of old books before the doorway was fully visible, and sothing in the body responded to it with a faint recognition. Kraven had spent ti in there. The mory was vague but present.
"The knights," Julian said. "The ones outside. How long have most of them served."
Moth considered this. "The senior ones — ten years or more. So longer. Captain Varen has been with Lord Astran for nearly fifteen."
A brief pause.
"The newer assignnts ca in recently, sa as . The King’s visit required increasing the household staff."
"And Liam’s n. Do they co into the castle grounds."
Moth’s answer ca a fraction slower than the previous ones. "Occasionally, young lord. Under specific circumstances. But the castle itself remains under Lord Astran’s authority."
Julian let that sit without following up on it.
They passed through two more rooms — a receiving chamber with formal seating, and a narrower chamber that connected the eastern residential wing to the main body of the castle. Moth pointed out relevant doorways without being asked, reading the tour correctly.
Julian asked him about the garrison structure, about the rotation schedule, about small logistical things that Kraven might reasonably have wanted to understand after a long absence. Moth answered each question carefully.
By the ti they looped back toward the front of the castle, roughly fifteen minutes had passed.
The courtyard was still occupied. The Duke remained with several of the senior knights, deep in a conversation. A few of the other knights had dispersed to their posts.
Julian and Moth went inside.
The entrance hall was wide and high-ceilinged, and it was not empty.
Olivia, Kraven’s mother, was there.
She stood near the center of the hall, with several maids positioned around her. Each of them were carrying sothing — folded towels, a tray with cups and a ceramic water jug. It seed that they were in middle of sothing.
Olivia heard their footsteps and turned.
Her eyes found Julian imdiately.
Julian felt it happen before he fully processed her appearance — sothing in Kraven’s body responding with an urgency that had nothing to do with him and everything to do with the man whose mories and instincts he was currently occupying. It moved through the body like a current and Julian spent a half-second suppressing it before it reached his face.
He took her in with a single look.
She was not what he had expected. Rather exceeded it.
Olivia was in her mid-forties, though she carried her age with such ease and confidence that it hardly mattered. She was tall for a woman, and her figure was mature and naturally curved, the kind of body shaped by genetics and life rather than by exercise or artificial ans.
Her dark hair was streaked with white at the temples, left uncovered as if to show she had nothing to hide. Her face was finely featured and composed, with the unmistakable quality of a woman who had been strikingly beautiful in her youth and had simply grown into a mature, refined beauty that still drew attention without effort.
She looked at Julian with an expression he couldn’t imdiately categorize.
Not warm. Not cold. Sothing more complicated than either.
Julian held her gaze for exactly as long as was natural.
Internally, he thought, with complete honesty, that Kraven was not wrong to develop such feeling.
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