The family walked into the Duke’s Tower together but they split off in different directions, leaving the kids standing there with their heads swiveling left and right, wondering who they should follow.
It was clear both parents were mad. Rochelle went to the winding stairs in the highest tower while Sir Arthur went down the northeast hall.
Arne looked to his older sister for guidance. She was as lost as he was. After having to deal with his mother’s incessant ranting as they traveled in a carriage for two days, he was hesitant to subject himself to that once more.
"Dad?" Irene asked her brother.
He nodded and they both followed the knight, seeing him going into the Duke’s study once more which was where their parents were in the first place.
As they went, they both silently prayed that their decision wouldn’t cause more strife in the already tense situation, but often their father was easier to face than their mother.
However, as the kids walked into the office and saw their father sitting at one of the finely crafted couches in front of the fire, they dreaded the expression he wore. Rather than the anger they saw as he stepped out of the Duke’s Tower’s back entrance, it had changed to sothing more lancholic.
His left hand held his right forearm where there was no hand, not even the prosthetic. His eyes were downcast and he stared into the fire that was always lit in the study during that ti of year.
After seemingly the entire knighthood saw her family’s issues out in the open, Irene decided to shut the door once she and Arne were inside because it seed that the problem wasn’t solved yet. She was petrified considering she had never seen her father behave in such a way before.
Arthur hardly acknowledged his children as they ca in, his head further angled downward as he tried to explain what was happening.
Irene sat down at the chair just next to him while Arne sat down on the couch next to his father. Neither one of them said a thing, allowing their father to explain what had just unfolded—allowing him a few monts to gather himself first.
He reached out his left hand which was closest to Irene. He also placed his other arm around his son who was not yet used to his father not having a hand and the child could only grimace.
The girl gently clasped his hand when it was offered and her eyebrows lowered. She couldn’t wait any longer.
"What is happening?" she questioned, her voice wavering.
"Following this winter, I will no longer be a knight," Arthur confessed quietly. "I will not lose my children. I will also not be an obstacle in your promising career."
Irene dropped her father’s hand and she stood up.
"I will not accept that!" she exclaid. "What will the knighthood do without you? There is sothing wrong and we aren’t going to be able to protect the people if we experience sothing as awful as what happened north of the valley."
Her voice was wavering a lot by the last sentence and she could only clasp her fingers over her mouth. She wanted to seem strong but there was a lump forming in her throat that ant tears were threatening to co forth.
"I will continue protecting our lands in the north-central region," he insisted, continuing calmly. "I will guide knights who cross my path and offer suggestions whenever I am sought out as one of the Duke’s advisors, but from now on I will only be a lord of my land and reeve of the town."
The mont Irene’s hand left her mouth, tears ca, but she didn’t care.
"I will never accept that," she persisted. "You have the iron hand! There is no good reason—"
Arthur took his right arm off of his son’s shoulder and he began to pull his sleeve upwards. He interrupted Irene before she could continue on.
Revealed to both of his children was a bandage with fresh blood still oozing out of it.
Arne gasped but he remained speechless just as before.
"That iron hand certainly solves the disfigurent, but it’s in appearance alone. The hand isn’t ant for combat," he persisted. "Quills and paper are all it will be good for. I will pay Samson and Stanley for their trouble in crafting the damned thing."
"You were so determined, dad," Irene continued, but her voice was much softer but no less heavy with emotion. "There has to be sothing you’re not saying. You will not lose us if you continue as a knight. I will be better if you’re here whenever I need you."
Arthur sighed and his elbows leaned into his knees as he slouched. It was clear he was greatly burdened.
"She has already begun making preparations to take both of you south to her family’s estate if I continue as a knight," he explained. "She says she will not wait for to die and leave her alone."
"I’m going to talk to her—!"
"Please, Irene," Arthur gently pleaded with her and he sat up straighter so he could face his daughter. "Understand that this is the best decision for now. If you are taken south, all of your ti as an apprentice here will be for not."
"This is unfair," Irene responded but she sat down because it seed that her father was going to be more upset if she went and took it out on her mother.
However, it didn’t stop the sadness that had evolved into anger. She needed to bla soone and she was very much putting it all on her mother.
"What will the knighthood do?"
"Felix will soon be a knight," Arthur explained. "Sir Gunnar will move up in rank and you will continue to be in good hands. Others will have to step up more than they have in the past, but they are perfectly capable. It has co to a point where I am more of a liability than a help to the knighthood."
To Irene and her father’s surprise, Arne finally spoke up.
"I am happy that you will be around more, father," he admitted quietly.
When Arne asked Irene why she hadn’t been writing him letters, she realized just how selfish she had been towards her brother. However, when he admitted that he wanted his father close by, she realized her selfishness was so much worse than she thought it was.
All in her pursuit of getting stronger, she had stepped on those who ant so much to her.
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