Chương 77: Chapter 13: “Old Dogs, Old Scars”

Knock. Knock. The door of Duke Armond von Reingarde's study echoed with two firm knocks. The Duke's head butler, still attentive despite the late hour, opened it promptly. In the dim orange glow of lamplight, Jade stood in the doorway. It was already well into the evening, and Duke Armond sat behind his broad desk, a stack of documents and ledgers spread before him. Jade stepped inside with a nod of thanks to the butler.

Typically, at this point in the night, Jade would wait respectfully for the Duke to finish his work, then deliver his daily report on Lady Celestia's progress. Only after that would the Duke pour them both a modest drink to unwind, a sort of daily ritual they happened to have fallen into over the past two weeks. Tonight, however, Jade dispensed with the usual formalities. Without waiting for an invitation, he strode across the office toward a polished cabinet where crystal decanters and wine bottles glinted.

The butler's eyebrows shot up at the breach of decorum, but he knew better than to speak out of turn. Duke Armond himself paused mid-writing, pen hovering above paper as he watched Jade. Jade swung open the cabinet door. He selected a bottle that was one of the better vintages and grabbed two glasses. Crossing to the small table near the unlit fireplace, he dropped heavily into one of the leather armchairs facing it. With a sigh, he set the glasses down and uncorked the bottle.

Jade didn't bother with the pretense of pouring slowly; he filled his glass nearly to the brim, then immediately took a swig. Behind him, Duke Armond raised an eyebrow at his daughter's instructor's unprecedented behavior. The Duke's stern face had a flicker of wry amusement beneath the surprise. He set aside his pen and leaned back in his chair, arms folding over his chest.

"Perhaps I have been too lenient with you, Sir Jade," the Duke remarked, voice laced with dry sarcasm.

"Most would consider helping oneself to a Duke's private reserve a rather bold affront. Another noble might see it as grounds to toss you in a dungeon for the night." Jade let out a short, humorless chuckle. He swirled the wine in his glass, gaze fixed on the dark red liquid.

"Bah. You can go ahead and throw me in your prison if you like," he replied, tone equal parts exhaustion and defiance.

"Frankly, I'll sleep fine in a cell. But I needed a drink after what I did to your daughter today." The blunt retort hung in the air. Duke Armond's faint smirk faded, replaced by a more serious expression. At a slight nod from the Duke, the butler quietly excused himself from the room, pulling the door closed to ensure privacy. The soft click of the latch was the only sound for a moment. Jade stared into his wine and took another swallow.

The Duke rose from behind his desk; papers and duties forgotten, he moved to join Jade by the fireside seating. Duke Armond claimed the other armchair opposite Jade, then reached for the second, empty glass that Jade had set out. Jade obliged silently, tipping the bottle to fill the Duke's cup halfway. Armond lifted it to his nose first, inhaling the wine's aroma out of habit, then he too took a deep drink. For a while, neither man spoke.

The only sounds were the soft crackle as Duke Armond took the liberty of nudging the logs in the fireplace with an iron poker, trying to coax a faint flame to life, and the gentle clink of glass whenever either of them set a cup down. Jade's gaze was distant, fixed on the small fire as if searching for answers in its flickering light. The Duke studied him quietly. In these past two weeks, Duke Armond had come to know Jade as a disciplined, respectful man.

Rough around the edges, yes, but someone who understood boundaries. To see him so agitated that he cast aside etiquette entirely was telling. And of course, Armond knew exactly what had transpired on the training grounds that afternoon. He had given his permission for it, reluctantly, after much deliberation.

"How is she?" the Duke finally broke the silence, his deep voice gentling with concern despite the neutral phrasing. Jade exhaled slowly through his nose.

"Physically fine," he answered. The response was technically what the Duke had asked, but it was not really an answer at all. Armond set his glass on the table. He repeated quietly, "How is my daughter?" Jade ran a thumb along the rim of his wine glass. He should have expected that the Duke would want reassurance beyond the obvious.

"She's handling it better than I'd hoped." He turned to face the Duke fully, expression conflicted.

"But even so, Your Grace, even with your blessing for this 'lesson'—" he practically spat the word, "—it left a sour taste in my mouth." In the firelight, the Duke's eyes looked older, shadowed by the weight of years and responsibilities.

"Do you regret doing it?" he asked after a pause. Jade opened his mouth, then hesitated. Did he regret it? Part of him did, he had forced a young girl, barely on the cusp of womanhood, to stain her hands with blood. Celestia might have been remarkable in her resolve, but she was still the Duke's daughter, raised in privilege. Jade had dragged ugly reality right into her sheltered world this day. Yet another part of him, the hardened survivor and veteran, knew it was necessary.

He closed his eyes for a moment, and a memory came unbidden: Celestia standing amid three corpses in the late afternoon sun, her face speckled with blood… and smiling. A chill prickled the back of his neck at the recollection of that eerie, unintended smile. Jade wasn't sure if he should tell the Duke about that particular detail, or if he had heard about it from another source already. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

Finally, Jade answered in a low voice, "No. I don't regret teaching her the lesson itself. But I hate that it had to be done." Duke Armond had his own internal conflicts; the very thought of Celestia facing such a trial tore at him. When Jade had sent a letter, requesting to conduct a "final test" of Celestia's resolve, Duke Armond had nearly forbidden it outright. Who would wish such a thing upon their child?

But Celestia's determination to climb the Tower even after her bethrothal with the Imperial Prince cancelled, had forced his hand. If a controlled lesson in ruthlessness now might save her life later, he knew he had to allow it, even if it pained him. The Duke leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees.

"I understand," he said quietly. Jade nodded slowly. He poured himself another full cup of wine and drank, welcoming the dull burn in his throat. Duke Armond lifted his own refilled glass and sipped more slowly. After a long moment of heavy silence, Jade spoke again, "The thought of my child ever going through even a fraction of what I've lived through… it terrifies me. Do you know how old I was when I first took a life, Your Grace?" Armond shook his head silently.

Jade let out a bitter laugh that held no real humor.

"Seven," he said.

"I was seven years old. I grew up in the slums of a small town and barely survived on scraps. One day, I spent an entire morning and afternoon scavenging for herbs on the outskirts, things I could trade to the apothecary or the hunters' guild for a few coppers. It was hard work, but I was proud of what I'd gathered. It meant I might eat that night." Armond listened silently. Jade looked at the small flames struggling to keep alight in the fireplace.

"When I was heading back, an older kid decided I looked like easy prey. He beat me bloody and stole the sack of herbs I'd collected. And just like that." Jade snapped his fingers.

"A whole day of effort gone. I can still remember crawling home empty-handed, bruised and dizzy, knowing I'd have nothing to trade, and nothing to eat."

"That night, I found the boy," Jade continued, "He was asleep in an alley, my sack of herbs tucked under his arm. He must have planned to sell them as soon as morning came. I was so angry. So hungry. I thought that if I let him live, I'd just die in his place. So I… I crept up and strangled him in his sleep." A log in the hearth settled, sending up a small spray of sparks.

"I killed him," Jade said, voice hollow.

"A scrawny seven-year-old kid killed a half-grown thug over a sack of herbs. I pried that sack from his cold fingers and took my herbs back. That morning, I traded them in to the hunters' guild and got five copper coins." He lifted his cup in a mock salute and drained the remaining wine in one gulp.

"Five coppers," he repeated bitterly.

"Two pieces of stale bread. That was the price of a life. Just two pieces of bread." Armond quietly took the bottle from Jade and refilled his glass. They sat in silence with only the crackling fire to mark the passing seconds. Jade broke the silence again.

"It was a long time ago, Your Grace. Another life." He managed a faint, rueful smile.

"But the memory never leaves. Especially now, when I'm about to become a father myself… I can't help but imagine my own child having to make a decision like this. The thought alone is enough to keep me up at night." Holding his now refilled glass, Duke Armond spoke, "I was not as young as you when I first dirtied my hands," he began.

"Fifteen, that was my age. I still remember the winter I accompanied my father, the previous duke, on a campaign to push back the barbarians raiding our northern borders." Jade opened his eyes, listening intently.

"It was so cold up there," Armond continued quietly.

"The wind could freeze the tears on your cheeks if you were foolish enough to weep." A corner of his mouth twitched, perhaps at the memory.

"In that frozen wasteland, every day was a battle for survival. But what tested me most wasn't the enemy outside our camp; it was betrayal from within." Duke Armond's gloved hand tightened around his wine glass.

"One of my father's adjutants, a man sworn to our service, was caught trying to secretly communicate with the barbarian chieftains," Armond said, disgust rolling under his words.

"He had grown desperate. Perhaps he thought the enemy would reward him for selling us out. I confronted him. I was young, angry, and when he lunged at me with a dagger, I reacted without thinking." Armond exhaled slowly, raising his glass and peering into its depths.

"Next I knew, he was on the ground, and my sword was in his belly." Armond's eyes reflected the fireplace's flames.

"What I recall most from that time is how warm his blood felt on my hands in that frigid cold. I remember staring at my sword, at the steam rising from the blood coating it." Duke Armond fell silent for a moment, caught in the old memory. Then he gave a small, mirthless chuckle.

"I doubt that adjutant expected the Duke's heir to be on patrol that night, or to be so swift to act. In truth, I wanted to play hooky and make a snowman. But when faced with the moment, I found I could do what needed to be done." He looked back at Jade. Armond lifted his glass slightly.

"We all have our ghosts; younger or older, noble or common." Jade clinked his glass against the Duke's in silent agreement and took a sip. The wine was mellowing him just a touch, and the Duke's openness was unexpected but welcome. For a time, they lapsed into a contemplative quiet, both men looking back into their own memories. Eventually, Jade broke the silence again. He stared into his cup as if searching for courage at the bottom.

"How do you do it?" he asked softly. Duke Armond looked up.

"Do what?" Jade raised his eyes to meet the Duke's.

"Raise a child," he clarified. Duke Armond leaned back slightly, rolling the stem of his glass between his fingers.

"When I first held Celestia in my arms as a newborn," he began, a faint smile touching his face at the memory, "I felt, among many things, utter terror. She was so small and fragile, I wondered how I could possibly protect her from the world." Jade watched the Duke's face soften as he spoke of Celestia. Armond continued, "The truth is, you can't shield them from everything. And that fear never truly leaves you. Not even for a moment." He glanced down at the bump on his gloved hand, a wedding ring.

"But you learn to live with that fear. You hold it here." he tapped two fingers over his heart. Jade chuckled.

"Just like what they say, the Reingarde House is full of romantics."

"You asked how I do it," Duke Armond said, lifting his glass in a small toast-like motion.

"I love my family unconditionally and endlessly. You love them no matter what life throws their way, or what they themselves may become. You have to be there for them." Jade managed a small, shaky smile.

"Is that so?" he murmured. Armond then raised his glass higher.

"To my family. To those whom I will forever love." Jade looked up. The Duke's expression was earnest, inviting camaraderie. Slowly, Jade lifted his own glass in return.

"To my family," Jade echoed softly, "who I will sacrifice everything for." Their glasses met with a clear, ringing clink.