Chapter 1.4 The Duke’s Judgment

1.4: The Duke's Judgment

A heavy silence lingered in the great hall.

Aldric still felt the ghost of steel at his fingertips, his breath uneven from the desperate maneuver that had won him the spar. His body was weak, his muscles trembling from exertion, but his mind was racing.

He had gambled—and he had won.

Now, the real battle began.

Duke Alaric Ravensbourne sat upon the high seat, his expression as impassive as stone.

Aldric's father was not a man who showed emotion easily.

But Aldric could see the faintest shift in his posture, the subtle way he tapped one finger against the armrest of his chair.

He was calculating.

Judging.

Weighing whether his son, the one he had long considered worthless, had truly changed… or if this was merely a momentary fluke.

Lucien stepped back, sheathing his sword with practiced ease. His smirk was still there, but now there was something else in his expression.

Curiosity.

He was no longer simply playing along—he was interested.

"That was… unexpected," Lucien admitted, tilting his head. "I thought you'd collapse in the first exchange."

Aldric rolled his shoulders, doing his best to hide his exhaustion. "So did I," he admitted with a ghost of a smirk.

A few nobles chuckled, some out of amusement, others out of unease.

Weak or not, Aldric had just embarrassed one of the strongest knights in the duchy—however briefly.

It was a statement.

And statements had consequences.

The Duke Speaks

The Duke raised a hand, and the murmurs in the hall vanished instantly.

His presence alone commanded silence.

"Enough." His voice was calm, but it carried the weight of absolute authority. His gaze was fixed solely on Aldric.

Aldric forced himself to stand straight despite the burning in his legs. Show no weakness.

His father studied him for a long, unforgiving moment.

"You are not the son I remember."

It was not a question.

Aldric met his gaze head-on. The old Aldric is gone. You're looking at someone else now.

"I will not waste time asking how this change came to be," the Duke continued. "I care only for results. What I saw today was… passable."

A murmur rippled through the gathered nobles.

Passable.

For Duke Alaric Ravensbourne, that was as close to praise as anyone could hope for.

Lucien arched an eyebrow but said nothing.

The Duke leaned forward slightly, his eyes sharp. "Two weeks ago, you were poisoned. You should have died."

Aldric held his breath, waiting for the next words.

"You did not."

The Duke's gaze narrowed. "Tell me why."

A Dangerous Question

Aldric knew that this was another test.

The Duke was not simply asking how he survived—he was demanding to know if Aldric understood what had happened to him.

This was a question of awareness. Of competence.

The old Aldric would have fumbled, terrified of saying the wrong thing.

But the new Aldric was not afraid.

He took a slow breath. "Because someone wanted me dead," he answered simply.

Silence.

Duke Alaric's eyes sharpened, and for the first time, Aldric saw something almost akin to interest flash across his father's face.

He expected Aldric to deny it. To act as though it were some accident.

Aldric did not.

"Continue," the Duke ordered.

Aldric nodded. "I do not know who yet, but they were careful. The poison was slow-acting, subtle—meant to appear as an illness rather than an attack."

He turned slightly, letting his gaze sweep over the gathered nobles.

Some flinched.

Good.

It meant at least one of them knew something.

"Someone wanted to remove me without raising suspicion," Aldric continued. "And they nearly succeeded."

A pause.

Then he added, "But they will fail the next time."

The words hung in the air like a challenge.

Some of the lesser nobles visibly stiffened. Others turned their gazes away, avoiding Aldric's piercing stare.

Lucien let out a quiet chuckle. "Interesting."

The Duke, however, did not react. He simply watched. Waiting. Measuring.

Aldric knew he wasn't done yet.

So he took the risk.

"The question, Father, is not whether I should have died."

He took a slow step forward, despite the screaming protest of his exhausted limbs.

"The question is—who thought they could get away with killing a Ravensbourne?"

A hushed gasp spread through the crowd.

That was bold.

Perhaps too bold.

Duke Alaric's expression did not change.

But his silence spoke volumes.

This was not a man who respected weakness. He respected strength, cunning, and ruthlessness.

The silence that followed Aldric's words was thick with tension.

For a moment, no one dared to speak.

Then the Duke exhaled through his nose—a slow, measured breath. His gaze, cold as iron, bored into Aldric as if searching for false bravado.

"Who indeed?" the Duke finally said. His voice was quiet, but there was a dangerous edge to it.

Lucien, standing at Aldric's side, let out an amused huff. "Bold words for someone who was bedridden for two weeks."

Aldric didn't rise to the bait. Instead, he turned back to his father.

"The attempt on my life was not just an attack on me," he continued. "It was an insult to House Ravensbourne. Whoever did this did not fear your wrath."

A subtle reaction—a twitch of the Duke's fingers.

Aldric pressed on.

"I refuse to live as a defenseless target," he declared. "And I will not wait for another attempt before acting."

The nobles exchanged uneasy glances. This was not how the old Aldric spoke.

For years, they had dismissed him as a spoiled, incompetent waste of a title.

Now?

Now he was commanding the room.

Duke Alaric tapped his fingers against the armrest, his expression unreadable. Then he turned his head slightly toward a figure standing near the back of the hall.

"Aldous."

A tall, older man stepped forward. Aldous Varlen. The Duke's steward, and one of the most well-informed men in the duchy.

"Yes, my lord," Aldous said, bowing slightly.

"What do we know?"

Aldous's sharp eyes flickered toward Aldric before he spoke. "We have uncovered little, Your Grace. The poisoning was subtle, and the source well-hidden. However…" He hesitated, then continued, "Several courtiers and servants disappeared shortly after the young lord fell ill."

Murmurs spread through the hall.

Aldric's jaw tightened. Of course. Whoever had orchestrated this had cleaned up their tracks.

"Then find them," the Duke ordered.

Aldous bowed again. "It will be done."

Aldric took a slow breath. His father's reaction was calculated, not impulsive. Good. That meant he wasn't dismissing the danger.

But Aldric needed to push further.

"I want a role in this investigation," he said.

Lucien stiffened. Some nobles let out quiet gasps.

Duke Alaric's gaze snapped back to him. Cold. Piercing.

"You presume to issue requests?"

Aldric didn't waver. "No, Father. I am stating my intent."

The tension in the hall spiked.

The Duke leaned back slightly, studying him. Then, to Aldric's surprise, his lips curled into something that was not quite a smile.

"Then prove you are worthy of that role."

Aldric exhaled slowly. This was the opening he needed.

"I will."

The Duke's eyes flickered toward Lucien. "You will continue testing him."

Lucien chuckled, but there was a hint of something else in his eyes now. Genuine intrigue.

"As you command, my lord," Lucien said.

The Duke turned back to Aldric.

"Do not embarrass me," he said simply. "Dismissed."

Aldric bowed—not as a cowering son, but as a man accepting a challenge.

Then, without another word, he turned and left the hall.

He had won this round.

But the real battle was only beginning.