CHAPTER 23: CHAPTER 23 - A FATHER’S TEST

The main hall was not empty tonight. Firelight painted the walls in orange hues, throwing long shadows across the polished stone. The scent of wine lingered faintly, though the goblet near her father’s seat was untouched.

Lord Ravenscroft was not dressed in his usual formality. His coat was undone, the sword at his hip missing, his boots resting heavily against the floor. His shirt was plain linen, sleeves rolled to the forearms, revealing a scar that ran jagged along one arm.

It was rare to see him like this—without the armor of authority, but it was not a sight that was unfamiliar to Morena of the past. For a moment, Morena hesitated at the threshold, caught between the man and the lord, between the father she remembered and the figure who weighed the future of the estate.

"You’re late."

His voice still carried the authority and might behind it like any lord would, but he was calm, tired even.

Morena inclined her head slightly, her steps measured as she crossed the hall.

"I did not expect you to still be awake, Father."

He leaned back in the chair, studying her the way he always did—but slowly he reached out his hand and took up his glass.

"I do not sleep early. A habit of the war. And you... I hear you’ve been keeping yourself locked up in your room. The servants say you don’t even come out for dinner. Is this true?"

She clasped her hands behind her back, letting silence stretch before she spoke again.

"It seems information spreads quickly, but yes. I’ve been training."

His eyes narrowed faintly.

"Training. You once gave that up."

"I picked it back up."

"Why?"

The question was simple, but the weight behind it pressed into her chest. In the past, the old Morena had trained her hardest. At first, it was her duty as the firstborn; however, after they stopped caring about her progress, when they learned she was a failure, she trained to prove them wrong.

However, life was cruel; the Morena of the past could never make any progress, no matter what she tried or did. Only now, after having been changed, having received the AI, did she finally have the chance.

"Because I refuse to be pushed aside. I will not waste away while the others surpass me. You have given me a chance, Father, how could I waste it?"

For a long moment, there was nothing but the sound of the fire crackling. He raised the glass to his mouth and took a long sip before lowering it once more. Then, to her surprise, the corners of his mouth curved faintly—not quite a smile, but close.

"That is the Morena I remember. You have already made me proud."

She stepped closer, tilting her head up to meet his gaze.

"It doesn’t end there, Father. I believe I can make you prouder. After all, I have made progress."

"Progress?"

"Yes. I’ve reached the level of a Low-Level Apprentice. Something I thought would never be possible, not with..."

She stopped speaking, the lie rolled off her tongue as smoothly as the truth did. Her actual progress had already surpassed that, but she could not afford to reveal so much just yet.

Her last line, however, was not a lie; the Morena of the past would have never thought such progress was possible, even the Morena now was stunned by it.

His brows rose, faint surprise breaking through the iron mask he usually wore.

"Already? How?"

Morena nodded.

"It was not easy, but I forced myself to do it. I tried various methods to condense my energy, even with this core of mine, I learned ways to help me grow."

For the first time in years, Lord Ravenscroft let out a hearty chuckle. Standing up from his seat, he took a few steps closer to her.

He stood before her, towering. His height was nearly double her own, she had to look up just to meet his eyes; yet in those eyes she saw warmth she hadn’t seen in years.

"That is impressive, Morena. I am sure that was no small feat, no easy burden to bear."

His tone carried no falsehood, no politeness. Genuine praise.

Her chest tightened. Praise from him had been a hunger the old Morena starved for. She told herself it didn’t matter now, that she had no need of it—but the warmth it stirred in her belly betrayed her.

His gaze lingered on her for a second before it shifted to the fire by the side, as though caught in memory.

"You know... before you were born, your mother said that one day you would surpass me. She believed it with all her heart."

Morena stilled, lips parting slightly. Her mother. The memories weren’t hers, not truly—they belonged to the girl who came before. But she felt them all the same, the emotions, the thoughts, everything that came with them.

She never knew her mother, only what others said of her. The paintings, the stories, the whispers.

Her mother was loved by everyone in the estate, maids, warriors, and even her father adored her. Yet all that came to an end the day she was born, because that was the day her mother died.

"I..."

Her voice caught briefly before she steadied it. She didn’t know what to say; there was nothing she could say.

He nodded slowly, gaze distant.

"She was strong, Morena. Stronger than me in many ways. When you were born, she blamed herself for not being able to stay and see you until you were grown. She wanted very much to be there by your side while you grew."

Her hands curled into fists behind her back.

"Truthfully, when you stopped your training, I was disappointed, not at you, but at myself. I blamed myself. A father’s duty is to protect. And yet, you grew up carrying that burden. I wondered if I had failed you then."

Morena looked at him, searching the scarred lines of his face. For the first time, she saw something beyond the stern warrior—the weight of guilt, of regret.

"You did not fail me."

She said softly. It was not wholly true, but neither was it a lie; it was simply the words that came to her mind above all else in that one moment.

"What I lacked then, I will make up for now. As you can do the same."

He turned back to her, studying her with an intensity that made her spine stiffen.

"Perhaps you will."

The silence stretched again until, finally, he broke it with a sharp exhale, leaning forward, forearms resting on his knees.

"There is an opportunity coming."

Morena’s eyes narrowed faintly.

"Opportunity?"

"A gathering in Blackbear City. Earl Duran, the Black Bear, holds it every year. A hunt. Nobles bring their heirs, their children, their young blood. They hunt beasts in the wilds, earn honor by their kill, and drink wine to boast of it afterward. A competition on the surface, a gathering beneath."

Morena’s mind turned quickly. A gathering of nobles, its purpose, politics wrapped in tradition.

It was a messy and dangerous ground.

"Normally your sister attends in my stead. She has been more suited for it. But this time, I want you to go as well."

Her eyes flickered, but she kept her voice even.

"You want me to show them my progress."

"I want you to show your sister your progress."

He quickly corrected.

"And the nobles, too, yes. The Ravenscroft name has been whispered about long enough. It is time they see what it truly holds."

He slowly walked back over to his chair and took a seat, turning to face her.

"But I won’t send you without a challenge. If you are to go, I expect you to place in the top five of the hunt, show them what this house is truly capable of."

The words struck her like steel dropped on stone. Top five. Among heirs trained from birth, sons and daughters with tutors and resources she wasn’t able to enjoy until now.

But instead of dread, a slow grin curved at her lips.

"Top five..."

She murmured.

"That will be enough to silence the council for a time, won’t it?"

A flicker of approval crossed his eyes.

"Perhaps. And if you fail, then at least you’ll have shown them effort. But succeed..."

He let the word hang in the air like a promise.

Morena bowed her head faintly.

"Then I will succeed."

He nodded once, final and firm.

"Prepare yourself. The hunt begins in three days. Your sister will be waiting. I’m sure she will be underestimating you; show her your pride as the eldest."

She straightened, her dark eyes reflecting the firelight.

"I won’t disappoint you."

As she turned to leave, his voice reached her one last time.

"Morena."

She paused, looking back.

"You’ve always carried more than you should have. But now I see your mother’s strength in you. Don’t waste it."

Her chest tightened again, but she gave no outward sign. She simply inclined her head, then walked away, boots echoing in the hall.

Behind her, Lord Ravenscroft leaned back into his chair, exhaling through his nose. He stared into the fire, whispering to himself.

"She’s changed. And if the council thinks they can touch her now..."