As Arlan turned one, the household buzzed with a mixture of pride and joy. He’d been growing fast—his observations sharp, his understanding keen. But recently, he’d unlocked something that delighted everyone in the manor: he’d started to speak. It wasn’t perfect; his words were short, and sentences were difficult for him to form, but he could string together two or more words at a time. Each time he spoke, he brought a fresh wave of joy to his mother and the household staff, who marveled at his progress.

Early one morning, Arlan sat on the nursery floor, stacking wooden blocks as his mother, Lady Elara, watched him with a tender smile. She seemed lighter, her eyes brighter each time he managed to say something new. She crouched beside him, holding a new block to add to his tower.

“Can you say ‘Mama’?” she asked softly, the warmth in her voice unmistakable.

Arlan looked up, his small lips forming the word carefully. “Mama.” He beamed at her, pleased with himself, and her laughter rang out, filling the nursery with warmth.

She gently hugged him, whispering, “You bring so much joy to us, Arlan.” Her fingers stroked his hair, a gesture he’d come to associate with comfort and safety.

He attempted another phrase, though his voice wobbled. “Good… Mama.”

A smile spread across her face, bright as the morning sun, as she held him close. Each new word he spoke seemed to ease her worries, lifting some invisible burden from her heart. Arlan didn’t fully understand yet, but he sensed that his small efforts brought her a measure of peace, especially in his father’s absence.

Despite her pride in her son’s growth, Lady Elara’s thoughts were often preoccupied with her husband, Baron Aldric. The recent conflicts with the Kingdom of Creed weighed on her, but as the daughter of a noble house herself, she understood the delicate balance of loyalty and pride that held their family together. She was the daughter of a count, her elder brother now the head of their house, a man who had offered his assistance when tensions with Creed had first started to rise.

“Let me send you men and supplies, Elara,” her brother had said the last time he visited. “Aldric is carrying this burden alone, and there is no shame in family supporting family.”

But Elara had refused, her head held high. She knew that asking for her brother’s aid might suggest to the nobility that her husband, a baron, couldn’t hold his own in protecting his lands and family. And Aldric’s pride, along with his reputation, was essential for the respect he commanded.

“Thank you, but I’ll wait until it’s necessary,” she had told her brother with a gentle smile. “Aldric is capable, and there is no war yet. I would rather you save your strength for when it’s truly needed.”

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Yet, as much as she tried to reassure herself, her husband’s prolonged absences left a lingering worry. He was constantly stationed at the border, managing security, planning strategies, and preparing for whatever Creed might bring. His duties were honorable, but they kept him far from home. She missed him deeply, and each day she prayed for his safety and swift return.

What Elara didn’t know was that Aldric’s mind wasn’t only on the conflict with Creed. He was preparing something else, a plan to help his son reach his full potential. Though Arlan was only a year old, Aldric had already begun thinking of his future as the heir to House Roquefort. He wanted to ensure Arlan had every advantage, every strength, to face the challenges that awaited him.

Among the many pieces of lore passed down through noble families, there was one ancient technique for children born to noble bloodlines, designed to enhance their mana channels from a young age. The ritual was known as the Medicated Bath of Vitality, a painstaking process that required rare ingredients and monsters found in the wildlands near the border.

Aldric had left word with a trusted scout to search for the necessary ingredients, which included potent herbs, monster scales, and stones rich in elemental energy. Only with these components could the medicated bath be properly prepared. Once the scout had everything, Aldric intended to start the ritual, bathing Arlan once a month until he turned five. This would help widen his mana channels, smoothing their flow and allowing him to grow with enhanced magical capacity.

The ritual was risky, but Aldric was determined to give his son every advantage. He’d seen Creed’s military strength firsthand, knew of their skill with both blade and magic. His heart swelled with a fierce determination whenever he thought of Arlan, his young son’s bright eyes, and the curiosity he already showed. If Arlan were to inherit the barony one day, he’d need to be strong, resilient, and ready for anything.

Meanwhile, back at the manor, Lady Elara busied herself with her duties, doing everything in her power to ensure that Arlan felt loved and protected. On a quiet afternoon, she took him for a walk in the garden, holding his hand as he toddled along the stone paths. Arlan glanced up at her, his young mind beginning to understand the sadness he sometimes glimpsed in her eyes.

As they strolled, she spoke softly to him, her voice tinged with hope. “One day, your father will be here to see you like this,” she murmured, almost as if reassuring herself. “He’s out there keeping us safe, Arlan. But you, my sweet boy, are his greatest treasure.”

“Papa…” Arlan said, stumbling over the word. Elara’s eyes widened, and she knelt down beside him, her face filled with joy and surprise.

“Yes, Papa,” she said softly, brushing his cheek. “He’ll be home soon.”

Arlan repeated it, feeling the weight of the word and the pride his mother’s reaction brought. “Papa… safe.”

Elara blinked, her surprise deepening. Though his words were simple, they were laced with understanding. She gathered him into her arms, pressing a kiss to his head, her heart swelling with love and relief. Even in his limited vocabulary, he was trying to console her, and she marveled at how much he already understood.

Late one evening, just as the household was beginning to settle, the sound of hooves echoed through the courtyard. Lady Elara rushed to the window, her heart leaping as she recognized Aldric’s familiar silhouette dismounting from his horse. Though he looked exhausted, his eyes held a steely resolve, as if his journey had strengthened his dedication to his family.

Elara gathered Arlan and hurried to greet him. As Aldric stepped inside, Arlan reached out his arms, the word tumbling out excitedly, “Papa!”

Aldric’s stern expression softened instantly, his pride and love clear as he took his son in his arms. He held Arlan close, a rare smile breaking across his face. “Arlan,” he murmured, his voice warm with affection. “You’re growing quickly, aren’t you?”

Elara watched the two of them, a peace settling over her heart as she saw her family together once more. Aldric looked at her, and she could see in his gaze the weight of all his responsibilities—but also the unwavering love he held for her and their child.

“I have plans for him, Elara,” he said softly, his eyes reflecting the strength of his resolve. “I’ll make sure he’s ready for whatever comes.”

Elara nodded, understanding what he couldn’t fully say. They would prepare Arlan for a future filled with both duty and challenges, hoping that he would grow to be someone who could protect both their family and the Kingdom of Diamond.

End of Chapter.