Aidan stood outside the door, his hand resting on it. He hesitated, drawing in a slow, quiet breath before knocking once.
One of the guards patrolling the hall glanced his way, noticing his hesitation—but chose to remain silent.
Inside, his father sat upright, gaze already lifted—as if he'd been expecting him.
On the bed, his mother's hand stilled mid-page. Her eyes met his. She slid the papers to the side, the soft curve of her lips blooming into a smile at the sight of him.
Aidan offered a smile in return, faint and hesitant—one that never quite reached his eyes. His mother's, by contrast, bloomed with ease, warm and effortless.
Sometimes, he wondered how she did it.
How she smiled like that… every time she saw him.
Aidan stepped forward, the soft thud of his boots on the carpet the only sound for a moment.
His mother's voice broke the silence, gentle yet laced with concern.
"Aidan? What's wrong? Why are you here?"
She sat up slightly, her hand brushing the documents aside, eyes narrowing just a little as they looked at him.
His father didn't speak—just looked at him, his eyes fixed on Aidan, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"Mom, Dad," Aidan said, his voice soft but steady.
He paused for a beat, then continued,
"Do you remember Viscount John mentioning the festival in the Lizardman Empire?"
Sophia's eyes flickered with recognition. She gave a small nod, but her posture stiffened, and her fingers curled slightly around the bedsheet.
Something in her son's tone made her heart pace—too measured, too careful.
A quiet premonition bloomed in her chest.
Aidan looked at his mother, his expression careful to read hers.
He glanced toward his father, but the man remained calm—the slight smile still tugging on his face.
"Today, while I was practicing," Aidan began, his tone casual, but his eyes flicked between his parents, gauging their reactions, "I overheard a lot of people talking about the festival."
He shifted slightly, his hands sweating for a second before he rubbed them on his lap.
"Even Zane brought it up tonight—said it's one of the biggest festivals in the world. Apparently, people from all over the empires are going there. I want to see different races, Mom, Dad."
He turned to his mother, taking a quiet step forward and lowering himself beside her. His eyes searched hers for understanding.
"So… Mom," he said, voice softer now, "I want to go. Matthew told me that Wilson hasn't yet sent any representative, so… can I go as a representative?"
He glanced briefly at his father, then added,
"I talked to Matthew. He's okay with coming along. Actually, he thinks it's a good idea."
His father didn't flinch.
No blink, no twitch—just the same unreadable expression carved into his face, as if he'd already predicted every word Aidan would say.
His mother, on the other hand, shifted. Her smile faltered for a breath. The softness in her eyes dimmed, giving way to a quiet storm of concern.
Her hand found his, fingers curling around his smaller ones.
"Aidan," she said gently, her eyes locking with his, heavy with worry. "It's not the time for this… not yet. You're still young."
She paused, the words catching in her throat before she finished,
"Grow a little more first."
Aidan expected this.
He didn't give up.
His grip tightened slightly around her fingers, his gaze steady.
"I know I'm still young, Mom… but I'm not asking to go alone. Matthew will be with me—and any other captain you want to send."
Aidan turned to his father.
"And this isn't just for fun—it's a chance to see the world I'll one day be a part of. Don't you think the same, Father?"
He looked back at his mother.
"And more importantly, I'll get to see different races. Different people—not just those within the Wilson estate."
He took a breath, slower this time.
"And Mom… if I wait until I'm ready in everyone's eyes, I'll never get to prove when I actually am."
Liam's smile lingered, but his eyes sharpened with quiet curiosity.
"So," he said, voice calm but probing, "what's really driving you? Is this about proving yourself… or because you want to go?"
Sophia looked at Liam before glancing back at Aidan.
Aidan drew in a breath, his shoulders stiff but his voice steady.
"…Both," he admitted, not looking away.
"I do want to go. I want to see what's out there. But it's not just that."
He glanced between his mother and father, then lowered his voice.
"You both know what I'm capable of," Aidan said, his voice low but firm. "So… can you trust me? Just this once?"
His eyes didn't waver as they met his mother's. There was no childlike plea in them—only a quiet resolve.
Sophia's gaze lingered on Aidan, quiet and unreadable.
She understood—of course she did.
Aidan's curiosity, his hunger to see beyond the borders of their world…
It was natural for a child to be curious about the world.
Different races had different values, different cultures.
The Lizardmen—proud, fierce, quick to anger. Their pride ran through their bones like steel.
They truly saw themselves as the most superior race in Maaya.
Even if she agreed to let him go, it wouldn't be a simple matter.
The Lizardman Empire's festival wasn't some quiet gathering—it was a convergence, drawing in voices and eyes from every corner of the world. Elves. Demons.
She didn't mind the elves; their pride and grace were something she could understand.
But the demons… no.
She didn't want Aidan anywhere near them.
They didn't see the world the way humans did, and they certainly wouldn't see her son as anything but an object—something to be weighed, measured… tested. For value. Or threat.
She felt a shiver even thinking about it.
Aidan was intelligent, yes, but he was still young. Still learning.
"I'm sorry, Aidan," she said at last, voice low. "But I can't allow it. While you might think you understand the complexity of the situation… you do not."
Aidan's heart sank, the warmth of his mother's hand doing little to steady the storm inside him.
Each word explained how she still saw him—as just a child.
His mind raced, searching for the right words—not too desperate, not too stubborn.
Just enough to convince her.