The midday sun was high above Caer Thalion, casting warm light across its ancient stone walls. Eamon walked purposefully down the corridor, his mind racing with plans. He had spent the morning locked in lessons with Sir Cedric, discussing the complexities of noble diplomacy and the delicate balance of power between the clans. Despite the interesting subject, Eamon's mind had wandered. His thoughts kept drifting back to his sisters and the promises he had made to them.

He needed to carve out more time for them, but with his demanding schedule, it was nearly impossible. The more he learned, the more he felt the widening gap between them. Something had to change. He needed to find a way to bridge that gap, to involve them more directly in his world.

"Liora," he said suddenly, glancing over at his maid who was walking beside him, "I need to find a way to free up my schedule."

Liora blinked, surprised by the suddenness of his statement. "But... Your Highness, your lessons are important," she replied hesitantly. "The mentors would not be pleased if you missed them."

Eamon frowned thoughtfully. "I know. That's why I have to be clever about it. I'll tell them I need time for 'self-study'—to reflect on what I've learned. They can't argue against that, can they?"

Liora bit her lip, uncertainty flickering in her eyes. "They might not believe you," she said cautiously. "But it's worth a try."

Eamon nodded, determination solidifying in his mind. He would make time for his sisters, no matter what. They deserved more than the roles they were confined to. He had to find a way to help them grow, just as he was growing.

With this resolve, he made his way to the study where Lord Alistair would be holding court over his trade matters. He had planned to request some time for his "self-study" and hoped Lord Alistair would understand. But as he approached the doorway, he heard raised voices from within.

"You don’t understand anything!" Anwen’s voice rang out, strained with frustration. "You’re missing opportunities, Father! We should be diversifying our goods, expanding into new markets—"

"Enough!" Lord Alistair's voice was harsh and final. "You are not the one in charge here. You will speak when spoken to and only then. You are not meant to meddle in these affairs."

Eamon paused outside the door, glancing at Liora. Her eyes were wide with worry, but she gave him a small nod, indicating he should proceed. He stepped forward and rapped on the door with a firm hand. The voices inside fell silent.

"Enter," Lord Alistair commanded, his tone clipped.

Eamon pushed open the door and walked in, Liora following closely behind. Lord Alistair stood behind a heavy oak desk, his face flushed with irritation. Anwen stood to the side, her hands clenched into fists, her face a mask of fury. She didn't look at Eamon, her gaze fixed on the floor.

"Your Highness," Lord Alistair said, inclining his head stiffly. "What brings you here today?"

Eamon glanced between him and Anwen, feeling the tension in the room. He could see the fury simmering just beneath the surface in Anwen's eyes, and he knew that whatever had just happened was more than a simple disagreement.

"I came to speak with you about my studies," Eamon began, choosing his words carefully. "I have been progressing well, and I believe that it is time I took a more independent approach. I would like to use some of my study time for self-reflection and personal research."

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Lord Alistair raised an eyebrow. "Self-study?" he echoed skeptically. "And what do your mentors say about this?"

"I have not discussed it with them yet," Eamon admitted. "But I believe it is a necessary step in my education. One cannot always learn within the confines of a classroom. Sometimes, one must seek knowledge through experience."

Lord Alistair regarded him for a moment, his expression unreadable. Finally, he nodded curtly. "Very well, Your Highness. I will speak with your mentors. You will be granted some time for self-study, provided it does not interfere with your essential lessons."

Eamon inclined his head respectfully. "Thank you, Lord Alistair."

With the matter settled, Lord Alistair turned his attention back to the papers on his desk, dismissing Eamon with a wave of his hand. Eamon turned to leave but paused when he saw Anwen. She stood rigid, her eyes still fixed on the floor, her expression a mixture of anger and despair. He couldn't just leave her like this.

"Anwen," he said quietly, causing her to flinch slightly. "May I speak with you for a moment?"

She glanced at her father, who gave a barely perceptible nod, his expression stony. Anwen then looked back at Eamon, her eyes filled with a mix of emotions, before giving a stiff nod.

"Of course, Your Highness," she said, her voice tight.

Eamon gestured for her to follow him. They walked silently through the corridors to a small alcove, where they could speak without fear of being overheard. Liora trailed behind them, her presence a silent comfort to Eamon.

When they reached the alcove, Anwen finally looked at him, and he could see the storm brewing in her eyes. She was holding herself together by a thread.

"Eamon," she began, her voice trembling with barely suppressed rage, "I can’t stand it anymore. My father, he... he refuses to listen to me. He dismisses everything I say. We’re missing so many opportunities, and he won't even hear me out. I know I can do better than this, but I’m trapped."

Eamon listened quietly, letting her vent her frustration. When she fell silent, her shoulders slumping in defeat, he spoke gently. "I know you are capable, Anwen. I’ve seen it. And I know how much you want to make a difference."

"Then what can I do?" she demanded, her eyes flashing. "I'm just a girl in his eyes. No one will take me seriously. No one will trade with me if I try to start something on my own."

Eamon felt a spark of an idea forming. "What if you didn't do it on your own?" he suggested carefully. "What if someone acted as your guardian, someone who could represent you while you direct the affairs from behind the scenes?"

Anwen stared at him, her expression a mixture of surprise and skepticism. "And who would do that? Who would risk their reputation for a girl who has no standing in trade?"

Liora, who had been standing silently by the wall, suddenly cleared her throat nervously. Both Eamon and Anwen turned to look at her. She fidgeted under their gazes but finally spoke up, her voice small but steady.

"I... I might know someone," she said hesitantly. "My cousin. He's a small trader. He has a modest business, nothing grand, but he's honest and... he owes me a favor."

Anwen looked at Liora in surprise, a spark of hope flickering in her eyes. "Your cousin?"

Liora nodded. "Yes. He's been struggling to expand his business because he doesn't have the connections or the resources. If... if you were to help him, guide him, he might be willing to act as your representative."

Eamon watched Anwen's face as she processed Liora's words. He could see the wheels turning in her mind, the realization that this might be the chance she had been waiting for.

"It's risky," Anwen said slowly, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "If my father finds out..."

"He won't," Eamon assured her. "Not if we’re careful. We’ll help you set it up quietly, and your cousin can be the face of the operation. You’ll direct everything from behind the scenes."

Anwen took a deep breath, her eyes fixed on the ground as she considered the plan. After what felt like an eternity, she looked up at Eamon, determination shining in her eyes.

"Alright," she said, her voice firm. "Let's do it. I'll speak with Liora's cousin and see if he's willing. If this works, we can show them all what I'm capable of."

Eamon smiled, feeling a surge of pride for Anwen. This was the first step toward something greater, a way for her to break free of the chains that bound her. And he would be there to support her every step of the way.

"Then we will begin," he said. "We'll make sure you have everything you need to succeed."

As they stood there, a sense of purpose settled over them. This was more than just a plan—it was a rebellion against the status quo, a small act of defiance against the expectations that sought to confine them. And it was just the beginning.