The two of them walked back to her study in silence. They were only interrupted once, by the appearance of Waver’s sister, Wistel.

Wistel had a similar stocky build to Waver’s mother, but didn’t specialize in polearms or knives. Instead, she was a talented cavalry archer, in addition to her clear head for tactics. She had long, curly black hair, like her father, and tanned skin like her mother. Fichet may have been the family’s heir due to his knack for courtly life, but Wistel was the apple of the matriarch’s eye.

Wistel and Waver greeted each other cordially, but they met eyes, and Waver could see the pain in Wistel’s expression. Unlike Fichet, who was apathetic towards him but feigned concern, Wistel pitied him, and kept silent out of a sense of propriety.

It would not be wrong if someone like Valor dismissed her pity as worthless to Waver, because it didn’t result in any action. In addition, in houses with any status, it was always difficult to say whether pity stemmed from love or condescension, and Waver wasn’t sure with Wistel either. But, he still preferred it. When he thought of his weasel of a brother’s hollow eyes and mocking words that lacked life, he thought that pity would do just fine, thank you.

Plus, he thought there might be more to it. When the two of them were much younger, Wistel had been far more likely to humor his abilities than anyone else in the family. He was pretty certain she didn’t really understand, but he thought she might have already suspected there was more going on than mere delusion.

Eventually, Waver and his mother arrived back into the safety of her study, which had thick walls and a door without a gap. As the door clicked shut, Granise wheeled around on her heel and shouted at Waver incredulously.

“What in the world was that? That was not like you were talking to an animal. You’re not a good enough liar to fake it, either. And that moment when he jabbed his claw into you, I thought for sure he’d draw blood at least, but it was like he was making a point. I’ve never seen him act like that in my life!”

Granise Cove was not completely foolish. She had been inattentive to Waver when he was young, and capitulated too easily to social pressure, but she still had a keen sense and intuition. Even if the one-sided conversation she’d seen wasn’t proof, per se, it was shocking enough for her to completely forget about getting Waver back into the family.

Waver stood there and took it, silently. When he thought she might be finished, he spoke, trying hard to keep his voice from shaking.

“It’s not that he doesn’t trust you,” Waver assured her, instantly seeing through her shouting to the hurt underneath. “He trusts you with his life. But the only reason you’re able to accept what you saw is because you know him so well. Most anyone else would just... forget everything. Or dismiss it as meaningless.”

“But why now!?” she yelled. “If I’d known he was so special, I’d have-”

“He isn’t,” Waver cut her off. He thought for a moment, and then reconsidered. “He’s special in that he’s yours and you’re his, and he’s an extremely wise and talented drake. But, he isn’t better at talking than other dragons, or anything. I don’t know ‘why now’. Maybe he was exasperated that you were using him to test me? But any dragon who lives with humans long enough can understand human language and concepts to that extent.”

“But that’s impossible! If that were true, then...”

The color drained from her face, which had been ruddy from shouting, as she thought about the implications.

“And that’s... probably why Valse hasn’t tried to communicate it to you until now,” Waver said, gently. He passed his mother and fetched her wooden chair from behind her desk, dragging it over to her side so she could sit down. She did, immediately.

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“I was so sure,” she said, her voice alone betraying no emotion at all. “I thought, because you were the youngest, you were trying to distinguish yourself somehow. Make it seem like you were special, like you had something the others didn’t, to make up for your lackluster performance in training. But I never once... no, I chose not to think about the alternative.”

Waver’s heart swelled with pride. This was his mother! She figured it out on her own! He hastily pushed the pride back down.

“Just one child’s words never would have been enough,” he said, bitterly. “You needed to hear about the reputation I’ve built, see my resolve, and witness Valse acting strangely to even consider it -- none of which I ever even tried to obtain for you. You can’t only blame yourself; I gave up on you.”

As soon as he’d said that, he thought his wording was too cruel. His mother’s face, normally stony, crumpled like parchment at his words.

“Dragonshit!” she exclaimed, for the second time that day. “You were a child. My child. There’s no way I could let you take responsibility now.”

“Then don’t,” Waver replied. “But I’ve sat with this for eight years, too. You’re not just my mother, you’re a person, and a knight. You have a responsibility not to be convinced so easily. You’ve sworn oaths to uphold public order. It’s not my fault for not convincing you, and it’s not your fault for not being convinced; it’s more like, hm. Neither of us had any choice in the matter. This could only ever have gone this way.”

The knight’s face fell.

“No,” she said. “That’s not true. I could have at least kept you in my household, even if you had to be a servant for a while. But you’re right. I’m a knight. Whatever I just learned, I can’t have learned it. For the rest of the house, I still can’t believe you, even if I might curse my inability to do so.” Waver nodded. Even in the best case, that was about what he’d expected. His mother continued.

“However, I’m going to have a long talk with your father again later, and at least have you added back to the family register.”

“No,” Waver said, sadly, reluctantly. “I don’t think I can accept that, yet, either. I might acknowledge you in private, but if I become a knight’s son in public, it’ll limit my ability to maneuver.”

“Maneuver?” Granise asked, evidently not having considered Waver’s projects as strategic exploits.

“I’m in a position where I can interact with both the humans and the dragons in this town,” he explained. “Changing the state of human affairs might be easier if I had power in the human world, but dragons serve in all classes of society. If I’m nobody in particular, it’s much easier for me to interact with dragons.”

“...I’d like to ask you to teach me the trick to that, but it’s probably better for me if I can’t.”

“Probably,” Waver acknowledged. He noticed, with appreciation and a dash of pride, that his martial genius of a mother was actually deferring to him in his area of expertise. “Anyway, basically, dragons don’t have the same hierarchies, so I need to be able to have access to dragons who serve peasants as well as dragons who serve nobles. That’s why I have to be a freelancer.”

“I see. That is indeed a sound strategy -- provided you are a scout, and not the commander. And what will you do if you need support from someone who can enact change with humans?” She had switched gears. She was appraising his goals and methods now.

“Then I will rely on my financial backer, Dame Michel Linnaeus, or my noble backer, Ori of Weave,” he recited while standing up straight, as if in a lesson. “Or... you, if I can think of a way for you to do so without compromising your position,” He added sheepishly.

“No need for that,” Granise scolded. “I’ll worry about my own tactics. The basis of fighting in a group is to delegate.”

“Yes, Knight!” Waver said. His mother stood up again, clearly having regained her fearsome stability.

“And you will report to the stables weekly for personal training in self defense. Neither of us will breathe a word of this to your father, your sister, or your brother. Is that clear?”

Waver thought back to what Valse had said earlier.

“Yes, Knight!” Waver shouted, with strong resolve.

“And one more thing,” Granise said with a fierce grimace. “You’ll tell me if that greedy bastard Linnaeus turns on you, so I can gut him, run him through, and then gut him again for luck.”