Sophia's sigh was soft but unmistakable as she folded her hands atop the desk. "Viscount John," she said, voice steady, "if this is about the matter I think it is… I'm already well aware of the situation."
Still, her brow furrowed slightly, eyes narrowing—not in anger, but in quiet confusion. There was something off about his approach.
The Viscount remained calm. His gaze held firm, tone measured. "I assumed as much, Duchess," he said. "But as you also know, nobles from every corner have started dispatching soldiers and mages to survey the lands near the Dark." He paused, letting the weight of his words settle."One of mine returned—shaken. Said he heard a voice. As if calling for someone."
Aidan shifted. A breath caught tight in his chest. His hand twitched near his side, fingers curling slowly. His gaze drifted—not at the Viscount, not at his mother—but toward the window, where sunlight illuminated the room.
The whispers had quieted over the past year. They had been less intense, less stressful. The dreams had dulled. The call had lessened—it used to come every night, and now it was like once a week.
But now, with a single conversation with Viscount John… that silence felt ready to break.
Aidan clenched his jaw, his eyes locking onto every word the Viscount spoke.
He could feel it—deep in his bones. Something was coming. And it was related to the Dark Forest... and somehow to him, even if he didn't understand how.
Sophia listened carefully, her expression composed, but her fingers tapped once—lightly—against the polished surface of her desk. No report had crossed her desk about anything resembling a "calling." The trees in the Dark Forest often whispered, yes, but never had they summoned someone so directly.
She leaned forward, eyes narrowing slightly. "What exactly do you mean by a 'calling,' Viscount?" she asked, her voice level but laced with curiosity and caution. "And what effect did it have?"
Viscount John hesitated, then shook his head with a trace of regret. "My apologies, Duchess. I don't know what it truly means. The account came from one of my most trusted soldiers—a man whose judgment has never failed me."
His tone grew firmer. "I do not question what he experienced. But if you wish to be certain, I would suggest sending one of your captains to verify. A noble's sense is far stronger. I imagine the truth would not elude them."
Sophia considered his words in silence. Her finger tapping stopped.
Finally, she gave a quiet nod. "I'll see to it," she said. "While I do not doubt your report, Viscount, confirmation is necessary. A rank one soldier's perception is limited. If something unusual is stirring, it would be better for a higher-rank being to check. A rank three being—a noble—would be more than sufficient."
Viscount John inclined his head respectfully. "Understood. With your involvement, I can rest easier."
Sophia nodded slowly, her eyes narrowing as she watched Viscount John fidget with his fingers. He was holding something back.
"Is there more?" she asked, her voice calm but pointed.
"Duchess," Viscount John began, his fingers tightening slightly around the glass, "the thing is… my little girl wants to attend the festival in the Lizardman Empire."
He offered a tight smile, more nervous than polite."But with the Dark Forest so close to their borders, I can't help but worry. As a father… do you think it's safe to send her?"
Sophia shook her head, a calm confidence settling into her posture. "Viscount John, you have nothing to worry about," she said, her tone reassuring. "The danger lies only in the journey itself.
Once she arrives, she'll be safe. Those reptiles are far too proud to let any harm come to their visitors; losing face like that would be unthinkable."
"If you're still concerned," she added, voice soft yet firm, "you can always ask the royal family to have your daughter accompany their representative. I'm sure someone will be going as their envoy."
Viscount John nodded thoughtfully, his expression shifting to one of relief. A grateful smile tugged at his lips. "Thank you, Lady Sophia," he said, rising from his seat. His cloak shifted with the motion, and he gave a brief, respectful bow. "I shall not take any more of your time," he added sincerely.
Then he glanced at Aidan—briefly, but with a flicker of recognition in his eyes.
"Farewell, little heir," he said, offering a faint smile. "Until next time."
Aidan stood, returning the gesture with a slight smile. "It was a pleasure meeting you too, Viscount John. I hope fate lets us meet again soon."
Viscount John smiled as he turned to take his leave, hand reaching for the door.
But just as it creaked open, Sophia's voice rang out—louder, firmer. "Viscount."
He paused, eyebrows lifting in surprise as he stepped back into the room, the door still halfway open behind him. "Did you forget to say something, Lady Sophia?" he asked, a touch of confusion in his tone.
Sophia didn't answer immediately—her gaze had shifted to Aidan, her eyes softer now. Then, without looking back at the Viscount, she spoke calmly, "Before you go, tell the servants to cancel all my appointments for the day."
A brief silence passed. Sophia's gaze lingered on Aidan. He was staring at the desk, his expression thoughtful.
Viscount John looked between the two before offering a small smile. "Of course, Lady Sophia. As you instruct." With that, he gave a final nod and quietly pulled the door closed behind him.
Aidan hadn't expected to uncover so much from a single conversation.
But as the pieces settled in his mind, a pattern began to take shape. So they had names, he thought.
The ranked.
The first—Soldier. That much was certain.
The second… still unclear.
The third, though—Noble. It aligned with what General Gael had written in his journal about the individuals he'd hired. Rank two… then rank three being—he doubted Gael would have referred to a rank four being as merely "noble."
The final, rank four—he had no idea. Not yet.
But it all fit, more or less.
Aidan's brow furrowed as his gaze dropped to the edge of the desk, fingers brushing idly against the carved wood. Right now, he didn't desire a name—he wanted to understand the Dark Forest.
Sophia ruffled Aidan's hair from behind, her voice light. "Why are you so zoned out, Aidan? What happened now?"
Before he could turn, she lifted him like a child, settling him down in the chair and turning it to face her directly.
With a small smile, she leaned in slightly, eyes locked on him. "Now tell me—what is it that's troubling my baby?"
Aidan hesitated, his gaze flickering toward his mother's face, then down toward the ground. He wasn't even sure what he had wanted to say before—let alone now, after hearing all that was unfolding in the Dark Forest. The thoughts tangled in his mind, too many threads pulling in different directions.
Sophia, watching him closely, narrowed her eyes and reached forward, pinching his cheek with a touch of impatience. "What are you hesitating for?" she asked, a gentle firmness in her tone. "Just say it—what is it?"
Aidan sat still, his fingers curling slightly against his lap under his mother's gaze. He knew—if he didn't say something soon, she wasn't going to let him leave. That much was certain.
Maybe he should tell her about the calling and the vision, he thought.
But almost as quickly, he shook his head—subtle, but firm.
He had already told his father, and even he hadn't found anything to explain the vision—just more questions. So Aidan doubted his mother could offer anything different. There was no point. No reason to bring more weight onto her shoulders.
He had already hidden the truth about his injured wrist. Already caused her enough pain with that alone.
The guilt of it still lingered.
So, he stayed quiet, deciding against it.
Across from him, Sophia narrowed her eyes, gaze piercing. She didn't press—yet—but her expression made one thing clear: she knew something was wrong.
And whether Aidan admitted it or not, she would find out—one way or another.