BLOOD & SIGILS

Chapter 11: A Noble's Expectations (1)

Kael sat stiffly in the grand dining hall of the Veyrin estate, a place of cold elegance and rigid tradition. Sunlight filtered through the tall windows, casting long shadows over the polished mahogany table.

Across from him, Isolde Veyrin, his mother, sipped her morning tea with the same unshakable grace she carried into every room. Her silver-gold hair was swept back into an elaborate braid, and her blue eyes—calm, yet always sharp—studied him over the rim of her cup.

Kael tried not to fidget.

He had barely had time to wash up after his secret training, and now he was trapped in a conversation with his mother.

This was dangerous territory.

"So," Isolde began, setting her cup down with a soft clink. "I hear you've been wandering about the manor quite a bit."

Kael forced a casual shrug. "Just needed some air."

Isolde smiled faintly. "Oh? That's funny. Because Elira mentioned seeing you sneaking around the western wing."

Kael froze for half a second, then quickly masked it with a cough. Damn it, Elira.

"Mother, I wasn't sneaking. I was just—"

"Kael."

The way she said his name cut off any excuse he had planned. It wasn't angry. It wasn't even stern. It was worse.

It was knowing.

She leaned forward, resting her chin lightly on one hand. "You've always been a clever boy. You don't cause trouble. You don't pick fights. But you do... think too much."

Kael's throat felt dry.

"And when you start thinking too much," she continued, "you tend to do things you shouldn't."

She knew.

Maybe not exactly what he was up to—but she knew something was off.

Kael forced a sheepish grin. "Mother, you make it sound like I'm plotting something dangerous."

Isolde's lips twitched in amusement. "Aren't you?"

Kael swallowed. This was bad.

His mother wasn't like his father. Duke Veyrin was a man of absolute strength, someone whose approval was earned through power.

But Isolde?

She was far more dangerous.

She saw through people—through lies, through facades, through hesitation.

Which meant Kael had one option left.

A distraction.

He sighed dramatically, slumping back in his chair. "Fine. I confess."

Isolde raised an eyebrow.

"I was hiding from another one of Father's sword lessons," Kael said with as much misery as he could fake. "You know how he gets when I don't match up to Rheon."

That part, at least, wasn't a lie.

Isolde studied him for a long moment, then sighed, shaking her head. "I told your father to ease up on you. He forgets that not everyone is built like him or Rheon."

Kael almost relaxed.

Then she smiled. A soft, amused smile that terrified him.

"But Kael," she said lightly, "you should know better than to lie to me."

His stomach dropped.

She leaned back, sipping her tea again. "Whatever you're up to, be careful. Because if I find out it's something reckless..." Her smile turned sweet—too sweet. "...I will personally make sure you regret it."

Kael swallowed hard. "Duly noted."

Isolde rose from her seat, smoothing out the elegant folds of her dress. "Good. Now, finish your breakfast. Your father wants you at the training hall in an hour."

Kael barely resisted the urge to groan.

As she left, he exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand down his face.

That was too close.

If he wasn't careful, his mother would tear through his plans before they even began.

He needed to be smarter. More cautious.

Because one thing was clear—Isolde Veyrin was watching.