CHAPTER 18: CHAPTER 18 - THE LORD OF RAVENSCROFT

The main hall always felt larger when it was empty. The vaulted ceiling swallowed sound, and the polished stone floor reflected her footsteps back at her like a reminder of how small she was beneath its weight.

At the far end, her father sat.

Lord Ravenscroft. An Earl, a man who earned his position and power through effort alone.

He was not armored, but he didn’t need to be; his presence alone carried the weight of steel. Broad shoulders, a scar just visible along his jaw, gray streaking the edges of his dark hair—he was a man who had earned every line and mark time had carved into him.

When his blue eyes met her dark eyes, Morena felt her breath catch for half a beat.

Rank 2 Warrior.

A man who had fought in the old war and lived. He didn’t need to flex his strength; it leaked from him naturally, the kind that pressed on the air itself.

She bowed her head, respectful but not deep.

"You called for me, father?"

"You’ve changed."

Just one sentence, but they landed heavy. He didn’t say it with accusation behind his words, not even as praise; he spoke as if he knew it to be the truth.

His gaze studied her, weighing her like she walked upon a scale.

She froze; she didn’t know how to reply. What could she possibly say to such a thing? Memories of her past flooded her mind, the old Morena—desperate for his approval, chasing after praise she never caught. But that wasn’t her anymore; she didn’t need his acceptance.

And yet... she couldn’t pretend his presence meant nothing.

"I hear that you’ve taken up training again. And studies. You, who once cast them aside."

His tone wasn’t sharp, but probing; his voice held authority in it, demanding the truth without outright saying it.

"Why?"

Morena’s lips pressed thin for a moment. She couldn’t lie—not to him, he wasn’t a man who relied on words alone; he knew her better than anyone, if she lied, if she tried to make something up.

He would know it instantly.

"I don’t intend to waste away while my brothers and sisters surpass me."

Her voice came quietly but firmly. No pleading, no lying, she didn’t make up something; she said the truth, part of it at least.

For the briefest moment, something flickered in his eyes. A softness she hadn’t seen since she was a child.

’Was that approval? Care?’

But it passed as quickly as it came.

"Hm."

His chin lifted slightly, a warrior’s grunt of acknowledgment.

"That’s an answer, not bad."

The fire crackled behind him, filling the silence that followed.

"Still, an answer isn’t proof."

His gaze sharpened as he leaned back on the chair. This time, he looked at her properly, his tone softer, his eyes focused.

"The elder council has been restless in my absence; they make their moves in the shadows, thinking I don’t see them, but I do. They pressure me daily to choose an heir."

Morena’s brow twitched, though she kept her posture composed. The council—those old crows perched in shadows, pecking at scraps of influence.

"I am not young, Morena. Ravenscroft will need a successor soon. And though I would like to believe it could be you..."

His voice trailed off, and when it returned, it was heavier.

"...so far, you’ve given me little reason to believe it."

Her fingers curled against her coat, hidden from sight. The old Morena would have flinched, maybe even broken under those words. She remembered that sharp, familiar sting of failing to measure up.

But she wasn’t her anymore, while being the heir would be useful for her goals, ultimately, she didn’t care. What she craved was power, and if she had to leave the family to achieve that, she would.

But deep down, perhaps it was a shadow of the old her; there was an ache.

She let the silence stretch, not because she had no words, but because she had to think of what to say, what would he want to hear? And when she finally spoke, her voice was steady, deliberate.

"Then I’ll give you reason. Time, just give me some time, I can prove to you that I am the correct choice. No, I will show you that any other choice would be foolish."

His eyes narrowed, just slightly, measuring her again. And for once, she didn’t shrink beneath them.

"You’ll need more than words. Prove yourself, Morena. Or you’ll be forgotten, married off for some political marriage."

The statement hung in the air—not cruel, not dismissive, but a warning that if she failed he would have no choice.

She inclined her head, the smallest nod.

"Then I’ll prove it."

For a moment, neither moved. Father and daughter, soldier and scholar, both unwilling to yield. The fire popped sharply, filling the hall with a sudden crack that made the shadows shiver.

Then Lord Ravenscroft leaned back into his chair, dismissing her with nothing more than a glance toward the doors.

Morena turned, her expression unreadable, and slowly she left the room.

As the door closed behind her, Lord Ravenscroft spoke aloud, this time to the empty room.

"You were right, she is different, what brought this change, I wonder?"

"Your guess is as good as mine, my Lord, but I believe that this could be for the better. If she truly could prove herself, then perhaps the late madam could rest in peace at last."

His inquiry was met by another voice, an aged man who appeared from the shadows of the corner, bowing as he spoke. He seemed to have been there a while; however, even Morena didn’t notice him.

"I worry, Adolf, the church has been making odd movements recently, the bandits near the borders have become more rampant, and the elder council grows tyrannical in their demands. Times are changing, for the worse it seems."

As the Earl spoke, it was clear his tone was filled with worry; the uncertainty of the future made him worry for his children, not himself, but for those who would be left behind if he were to die.

"Come now, my Lord, you speak as if you’re an old man; you’re still young and healthy."

The Earl chuckled at his comment, brushing his hair back as he stood up, and looked at the man.

"You’re right, I am still young, and so are you, my old friend; that means there is still much for us to do. Let’s go meet the elders, buy some time for this troublesome daughter of mine."