As Arsines spotted Philesius lingering outside the atrium, he immediately straightened and called out with respect, "Lord Philesius!"
Philesius waved off the formality with a kind smile. "This is home; just call me Uncle."
"Uncle Philesius!" Arsines replied dutifully.
Nearby, Melisander hesitated, his voice barely above a murmur as he muttered, "Father." Though he had begun addressing Philesius as such, the word still felt foreign on his tongue.
Philesius, ignoring the awkwardness, placed a reassuring hand on his son's shoulder. "I watched your sparring with Arsines just now. Your strength and speed are impressive, but experience—especially on the battlefield—still eludes you. Once you've seen a few campaigns, you'll understand the difference."
Melisander's eyes lit up with determination. "But I have to be eighteen to go to war! Father, can't you speak with Lord Juleios again—"
