The dining room was quiet when Leon and Mira entered. The table stretched far longer than either of them was used to, its polished surface reflecting the soft glow of candlelight. A fire crackled gently in the hearth, casting flickering shadows across the room.

Leon sat down awkwardly, adjusting his posture to sit straight like Madam Aldwin had drilled into him earlier. Mira followed suit, folding her hands neatly in her lap. They were alone in the large room for now, the vastness making the moment feel even heavier.

“How are you feeling?” Mira asked softly.

Leon shrugged, keeping his eyes on the table. “I don’t know... everything feels strange,” he admitted. “I mean, I knew things would change once I awakened, but this... it’s a lot.”

Mira nodded, her expression softening. “It is. But we’ll adjust, Leon. It’s just going to take time.”

Leon sighed. “Do you think I’m going to mess it up?” he asked. “Madam Aldwin’s lessons... it feels like there’s so much pressure. What if I can’t keep up?”

Mira gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “You’ll learn. You’ve always been quick to pick things up. It’s hard, yes. But you’ve handled hard things before.”

Before Leon could respond, the door creaked open. A servant entered, carrying trays of food. The scent of roasted meat and fresh bread filled the air, but Leon’s appetite had vanished. The servant placed the dishes before them in silence and quickly retreated.

Mira gave Leon’s hand another squeeze before letting go. “It’ll get easier,” she said softly. “One day at a time.”

The door opened again, and Leon’s heart skipped a beat as Lord Roderic entered the room.

Leon straightened in his seat, trying to calm the nervous fluttering in his stomach. He wasn’t ready for another round of formality after such an exhausting day.

Roderic’s sharp gaze swept the room, lingering briefly on Leon and Mira. His gaze seemed to catch slightly on Mira, perhaps taking in her posture, or the way her hair framed her face, but it was only for a fraction of a second. “Good evening,” he said, his voice steady but carrying weight. “I trust you’ve both begun to settle in.”

Mira inclined her head respectfully. “Yes, my Lord. The rooms are very comfortable. Thank you for arranging everything.”

Roderic nodded. “Good. I trust you’ll find Highfield a quiet and peaceful place. If there’s anything you need, speak to Hollis. He will make the necessary arrangements.”

Leon focused on his plate, doing his best to remember Madam Aldwin’s teachings. The conversation was sparse, Lord Roderic asking only a few polite questions about their journey, avoiding anything too personal.

When he asked Mira if the rooms were comfortable, Leon noticed how she paused before replying. Her fingers shifted slightly, adjusting her sleeve. “They’re lovely, my Lord.”

Roderic gave a small nod, his gaze lingering for a moment before he turned to his meal. “Good.”

The rest of the meal passed quietly, with only the soft clink of silverware and the crackle of the fire breaking the silence. Lord Roderic’s presence filled the room, though he spoke little. His manner was polite but distant, and Leon was careful not to do anything that might earn a disapproving glance.

By the time the meal ended, Leon was relieved. Roderic stood from the table. “We will speak again tomorrow,” he said before leaving the room, his footsteps barely audible as he exited.

As soon as the door closed behind him, Leon let out a quiet breath, his shoulders finally relaxing. He glanced over at his mother, who gave him a small, reassuring smile.

“You did well,” she said softly.

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Later that evening, back in their quarters, Leon sat by the fire with his mother, the day’s events swirling in his mind. He couldn’t help but feel... out of place.

“Mum,” he started hesitantly. “What if I can’t keep up with everything they expect of me?”

Mira set her knitting aside and moved closer to him. “Leon, I’m not going to lie to you. This is going to be hard. They’re going to push you. But that doesn’t mean you’re failing.”

Leon let out a shaky breath. “But what if I do fail?”

Mira’s voice was steady. “You won’t. You’ve faced hard times before, and you’ve made it through. When your father died, I didn’t know what to do at first. But I didn’t stop. I found a way, step by step. You’ll do the same.”

Leon frowned. “But it’s different here. The nobles, the lessons, everything... it’s like they’re expecting me to just... fit.”

“They are,” Mira admitted. “But you don’t need to know how to do everything right now. You’ll learn, and you’ll be stronger for it.”

Leon stayed quiet, absorbing her words. There was no sugar-coating, no soft words of comfort—just the truth. And it hit him harder than anything Lord Roderic or Madam Aldwin had said so far.

“I know it’s scary,” Mira said. “But you have something these nobles don’t—you’ve worked for everything you’ve ever had. You know what it’s like to have nothing handed to you. That’s what’s going to make you stronger.”

Leon blinked, his throat tightening.

Mira’s hand found his again. “You’ll make it through this. Because you always have.”

He looked down at their joined hands, feeling the warmth of her touch, the confidence in her voice. It wasn’t about having all the answers right now, he realised. It was about making the choice to keep going, even when everything felt overwhelming. His mother had done it. He could too.

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The morning sun was barely creeping through the curtains when Leon stirred from sleep. The bed was still too soft, too big—he missed the smaller, rougher bed at home. But for once, he didn’t feel the weight of nerves pressing down on him like the day before.

Today would be different.

Leon stretched, feeling the familiar tension in his muscles from years of working the farm. Physical work—that was something he could do.

But as he swung his legs out of bed, the realisation hit him again—he wasn’t on the farm anymore. His body felt small in the oversized bed, and the room, much too grand for someone his age, seemed to swallow him up. He was only eleven, just a boy in a world of towering adults and intimidating expectations.

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Unlike etiquette, which felt like navigating a minefield with every word, physical training was something he actually knew how to handle. Sure, it would probably be different here, but how hard could it really be?

After dressing in the simple training clothes that had been laid out for him—a loose-fitting shirt and trousers far more comfortable than the formal wear from the day before—he made his way downstairs to meet his new instructor.

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As Leon entered the training yard, the cool morning air felt refreshing against his skin. The yard was large, with neatly raked gravel and a variety of training equipment lined up in rows—wooden dummies, weights, and a wide sparring circle in the centre.

Waiting for him was a tall man, broad-shouldered and muscular, with arms crossed over his chest. Captain Loren’s presence was imposing, especially from Leon’s perspective. He had to crane his neck to meet the man’s eyes, and for a moment, the sheer size of him made Leon feel impossibly small.

Loren’s stern expression only added to the intimidation. His arms looked like they could crush rocks, and for a brief moment, Leon felt a pang of doubt.

“Leon, I presume,” the man said, his voice gruff but not unkind.

Leon nodded quickly, trying to stand a little taller, though he still felt dwarfed by the man’s height. “Yes, sir.”

“I’m Captain Loren,” the man introduced himself, his eyes scanning Leon with the same kind of scrutiny Lord Roderic had given him the night before. “I’ll be in charge of your physical training while you’re here.”

Leon swallowed but managed to keep his composure. “Nice to meet you.”

Loren nodded once, briefly, before gesturing to the equipment around them. “You’ve done farm work, right?”

Leon blinked, a little surprised. “Uh, yes. My whole life.”

“Good,” Loren said simply. “That’ll give you an edge. But don’t expect this to be the same.”

Leon couldn’t help but feel a flicker of excitement. Finally, something he might actually be good at. He stepped forward, feeling more confident than he had yesterday.

“Let’s start with some warm-ups,” Loren said, motioning to a row of weights. “Pick those up, and let’s see what you’re made of.”

Leon moved to the weights, grabbing one with both hands. It was heavier than he expected, but manageable. He lifted it, focusing on keeping his form steady as Loren watched.

“Not bad,” Loren said, nodding slightly. “Now, add some movement. Let’s get those muscles working.”

Leon began moving as instructed, shifting the weight from one side to the other, trying to keep his balance. Sweat started to bead on his forehead, but it felt good—familiar, even. This was something he could handle.

But soon, the weight began to pull at his muscles in ways he wasn’t used to. His arms trembled, his grip slipping slightly as he struggled to keep up with Loren’s commands. The burn in his muscles wasn’t the satisfying ache he had expected—it was sharper, more intense. It was different from farm work, and not in the way he thought it would be.

“Focus,” Loren’s voice cut through his thoughts. “Strength isn’t enough. Control your body.”

Leon gritted his teeth, trying to push through the strain, but his arms felt like they were made of lead. He barely managed to complete the last set of lifts before Loren gestured for him to stop.

“All right, let’s move on,” Loren said, his tone still calm but firm. “I want to see how you handle combat.”

Leon’s heart quickened. Maybe this would be easier. He’d seen the guards in the village practise with wooden swords, and it had always looked exciting.

Loren handed him a wooden training sword, its weight heavier than Leon had anticipated. He took a few practice swings, trying to get a feel for it, but his arms were already aching, and the sword felt clumsy in his hands.

“Footwork first,” Loren instructed. “It’s all about balance. A strong stance gives you the foundation to strike, block, and move.”

Leon nodded and followed Loren’s instructions, moving his feet in time with the strikes. But his balance wavered, his foot slipping on the gravel more than once. He stumbled, trying to keep his footing, and every time Loren swung his own sword, the force of the blows reverberated painfully through Leon’s arms, making him stagger back.

Loren towered over him, his strikes controlled, precise, and Leon suddenly felt his size more acutely than ever. He was a child, barely reaching the man’s chest, and each swing of the sword reminded him just how small and untrained he was.

“Again,” Loren said, his voice calm but unyielding.

Leon gritted his teeth and tried to steady himself, but every strike sent shockwaves through his body, his muscles screaming in protest. Loren’s movements were measured, disciplined, while Leon’s were clumsy and unbalanced.

The morning’s confidence drained away with every swing of the sword. By the time Loren called for him to stop, Leon was drenched in sweat, his arms shaking from the strain.

“You’ve got potential,” Loren said, though his tone carried a hint of disappointment. “But strength alone won’t get you far. You lack control. Balance. Precision. That’s what we’ll work on.”

Leon nodded, but inside, he felt deflated. This wasn’t what he had expected. He thought physical training would be easier—that it would be something familiar. But now, he felt like he was back at square one, struggling to keep up, just like with the etiquette lessons.

“You’ll be sore tomorrow,” Loren continued, his voice gruff but not unkind. “That’s a good sign. It means you’ve got room to grow. But don’t think this will come easy. You’ll need to work harder than you ever have before.”

Leon swallowed, his muscles still trembling as he nodded. “I understand.”

Loren studied him for a moment longer before giving a nod. “You did well enough for today. We’ll build on this. But remember—this isn’t just about strength. It’s about control. Always stay focused.”

“I will,” Leon promised, though the words felt hollow. The excitement from earlier in the morning was gone, replaced by a deep sense of frustration. He had thought this would be the one thing he was good at, but it was just as hard as everything else.

As Loren dismissed him, Leon made his way back towards the estate, the soreness in his muscles a reminder of the work he had ahead. But despite the ache, there was no sense of accomplishment. Only the nagging thought that maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t as ready for this as he had thought.

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When he finally reached his room, Leon slumped down on the edge of his bed, head in his hands. His body was sore, but it was the frustration that weighed on him the most. He felt... small. Weak. Too small for the task ahead.

After a long moment, he stood up and made his way down the hall to his mother’s room. He didn’t even knock—just quietly opened the door. Mira was there, sitting by the window with her knitting, and she looked up in surprise.

“Leon?” she asked softly, setting the knitting aside. “Is something wrong?”

He didn’t say anything at first. He didn’t know how to explain it—the sense of defeat, the feeling of falling short. So, instead, he just walked over and sat down beside her, leaning his head against her shoulder like he used to when he was younger.

Mira’s hand came up, stroking his hair gently. “It’s all right, love,” she whispered. “I know it’s hard.”

Leon closed his eyes, the frustration bubbling up in his chest. “I thought I’d be good at it,” he muttered, barely louder than a whisper. “I thought... it would be easier.”

Mira smiled softly, though he couldn’t see it. “Nothing worth doing is ever easy, Leon.”

He let out a shaky breath. “I just... I feel like I’m failing. At everything.”

Mira turned slightly, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him closer. “You’re not failing,” she said gently. “You’re learning. And that’s different.”

Leon stayed quiet, leaning into the comfort of his mother’s embrace. Her presence, her calm, was the only thing that made him feel like he wasn’t completely falling apart. In that moment, it was all he needed.

But Mira’s gaze softened as she stroked his hair, a quiet worry settling behind her eyes. She didn’t say it aloud—how could she?—but she knew her time with Leon was limited. Soon, he would be at the academy, alone, without her to fall back on. He would have to learn to stand on his own, to find his strength without her.

She knew that, even if he didn’t yet.

“You’ll get there, Leon,” she whispered, her voice soothing but tinged with a gentle urgency. “You’re stronger than you think. But you’ll have to keep pushing forward. I won’t always be here to help you.”

Leon stiffened slightly at her words, but she held him close, keeping her tone soft, almost comforting. “One day,” she continued, “you’ll have to do all of this on your own. And I know you’ll be ready for it when the time comes.”

Leon didn’t answer, but the words settled in the back of his mind, stirring something inside him. He didn’t want to think about leaving her—about being alone at the academy. Not yet.

For now, he just wanted to stay here, with her. And for now, that was enough.

They sat in silence for a while longer, until finally, Mira gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze. “You’ll be all right, Leon,” she said quietly. “Just take it one day at a time.”

Leon nodded slightly, though the frustration still lingered. He stayed beside his mother for a while longer, soaking in her quiet presence, knowing that these moments—just the two of them—wouldn’t last forever.