Savadra, The Castle of the Grand Duke of Arches.
"You summoned us, Grandfather?" asked Connor Arces, as he dipped into a respectful bow before the regal figure seated on the high-backed couch. The old man, now in his eightieth year, bore the weight of time—his back slightly bent, his once-broad shoulders diminished—but his presence still crackled with the quiet authority of a noble who had once commanded armies and nations. His hair, now a crown of pure white, lent him the dignity of a weathered wolf.
Beside Connor, Linnea and young Sandoz followed suit with deep, reverent bows.
"A good day to you, Grandfather," Linnea said gently.
"Good day, Great-Grandfather!" Sandoz beamed, his voice ringing with childlike brightness. Though his tone still held the innocence of childhood, he has grown taller. He radiated health and energy, like a flame just catching strength.
Dakota, the old Grand Duke, glanced around the grand drawing room with sharp eyes. "Where is your Duchess, Connor?" he asked, though the question carried a weight far heavier than casual inquiry.
Connor shifted slightly. "I’m afraid Eloisa couldn’t join us today. She’s overseeing preparations for a tea gathering this afternoon. The noble ladies of her circle will be visiting."
Dakota’s face darkened, and his cane struck the marble floor with a resonant crack.
"Huh, a tea party," he growled. "She thinks that her tea party is more important than family?" Dakota slammed his cane on the floor.
"Great Grandpa, please don’t be mad. It is bad for your health." Sandoz said, his eyes brimming with sincerity.
The old man’s expression softened. A slow, genuine smile crept onto his face. "Good boy. You always manage to lift this old heart." He patted the seat beside him. "Come here, child. Sit with your great-grandfather."
Without hesitation, Sandoz made his way to Dakota’s side, settling into the velvet cushions beside him. Connor hesitated, then reached for Linnea’s hand. Together, they took the couch across from the Grand Duke and the boy.
Two servants entered with practiced grace—one carrying a gleaming silver tea service, the other balancing a tray of delicate pastries and ripe fruits. Linnea, with the poise of someone born to hospitality, poured the tea and offered the first cup to Dakota, then another to her husband.
Sandoz, ever thoughtful, picked up a slice of fruit and offered it to his great-grandfather with a proud smile. He then handed a piece to each of his parents, performing the gestures with the ease of long-standing tradition.
Dakota’s eyes misted. The sight before him—a quiet moment of warmth, a family unbroken—filled him with fragile hope. For a moment, he was glad Eloisa had stayed behind. Her sharp tongue and cold manner would only have soured the peace.
But the warmth quickly faded as his brow furrowed. "Connor," he began, his tone heavier now, "I summoned you because the situation in Northem is getting chaotic. It’s no longer safe here—not for Linnea, and especially not for young Sandoz."
Connor blinked, surprised. "What do you mean, Grandfather? I haven’t seen any signs of unrest. The streets are calm. The people—"
"You haven’t seen it?" Dakota cut in, his voice rising. "And you’re a duke? I’m ashamed to be called your Grandfather. Clearly, I failed in preparing you to read the tides of war."
Color rose in Connor’s cheeks. He looked down, chastened.
"The Crown Prince wanted to bring down the men of the house of the Norse and to elevate those inside his circle. That was his biggest mistake. General Odin and his sons were more than just commanders. They were pillars. Now that they’ve fallen... the cracks will widen."
Dakota breathed heavily. He was really saddened by Reuben’s decision.
"I tried to advise the prince. I begged him to see reason. But his council is filled with flatterers and snakes. Heimdal’s legacy—the peace and prosperity, all his hard-earned peace, will be undone by the very son he loved most."
"Grandpa, what happened to General Odin and his sons was indeed unfortunate, but Northem is not short of brave generals." Connor paused when he saw his grandfather frown, a sign that he was displeased with what he was saying.
"You’re still so naïve, Connor," the old duke said sternly. "Without Odin and the others, we have pulled the thorns from the sides of our enemies. The neighboring kingdoms are watching and waiting. They will strike, and when they do, we will not be ready. Northem will burn—and your family will burn with it."
Silence settled over the room like a shroud.
Connor leaned forward, his voice low. "What are you suggesting, Grandfather?"
Dakota did not answer immediately. Instead, he fixed his gaze on Sandoz, the boy who sat so innocently beside him, unaware of the full weight pressing down on the world around them.
"Take Sandoz and Linnea out of Savadra. Bring them to Calma. They would be safe there. You can take your daughters as well and Eloisa."
"Grandpa, how can you say that?" Connor was mortified. "This is our home. I need to stay to guard the dukedom and keep it safe."
"Home is not where walls stand," Dakota replied, turning to him. "It is where blood is kept safe. The castle will soon be nothing more than a gilded cage—or a tomb."
Connor frowned. "You want me to flee like a coward?"
"I want you to survive," the old duke snapped. "So that when the tide turns—and it will—you will still have the strength to return. And your son will live to reclaim what we may lose."
Dakota rose with effort, leaning heavily on his cane. His age showed in the tremble of his hands, but his eyes burned with clarity.
"You are the Duke of Arches," he said to Connor. "Not just in name, but in duty. Your first responsibility is not to your castle, or to the court—it is to your blood. To your wives. To your son and daughters."
"Then, Grandpa, I will arrange for a caravan going to the south." But I will return after escorting them. Connor added silently.
"Good!" Dakota heaved a sigh of relief.
"You should leave immediately while it is still calm. Announce that you are visiting your mother’s family in Lenares."
"Father, are we really going to Calma?" Sandoz asked with hopeful eyes.
When his father nodded, his face blossomed into a big smile.