Eunid first went to his room, swiftly changing into a fresh set of clothes. He took a mont to compose himself before setting off down the long halls that led to his father’s chambers. The usual emptiness and pleasant scents of the corridors were replaced by a tense atmosphere. n in armor lined either side, their faces etched with fatigue and stern expressions. These were commanders within the family, each bearing the family insignia on their chests.
Their armor, still marred with dried blood from the battlefield, had seen better days.
So had broken pieces here and there, while others bore fresh cuts on their bodies. One man stood with a heavily bandaged hand, his eyes dark and weary.
Eunid noticed this, understanding the unspoken ssage: these n could have sought healing from the clerics employed by the family, but they chose to present themselves battered and bruised within the family head’s ho.
It was a strategic move orchestrated by his uncle, aid at making a point to the other family mbers, slaves, and onlookers.
This was a skilled political move.
As Eunid walked past, he felt the weight of their stares. These n didn’t like him, and it was evident in their eyes. However, when it ca to family politics, Eunid was a genius. It was this acun that had secured his position as heir. He scanned the room, taking note of one particular veteran commander who was barely standing. His leg was badly wounded, and he looked like he was struggling to remain upright.
Seizing the opportunity, Eunid rushed forward with a bright look in his eyes. "Senior commander, your leg is badly hurt. Let help you!" The commander frowned, wanting to push him away, but the pain was too much.
Then, sothing unexpected happened. Eunid suddenly ripped his shirt open, ensuring the sound of tearing fabric was loud and clear. Dropping to his knees, he ordered, "Get a bowl of water!" A maid rushed to fulfill his request. Eunid then began to treat the commander’s wound, using his spiritual energy to boil the water before starting. The commander couldn’t help but moan in relief, though he quickly caught himself and tried to maintain a stoic expression.
Eunid noticed this and smirked inwardly. He turned to the maid again, his voice commanding, "How dare you all... can’t you see that these are veterans of the family and the holy church? They have fought with blood and sweat for our safety. Get them chairs. All of them!"
This surprised the commanders, and many began to look at Eunid differently. They were impressed by his thoughtfulness, and admiration began to replace the earlier animosity in their hearts.
In Eunid’s hands, the human heart was clear as day to him.
He knew exactly what to do. As the maids brought chairs for the commanders, Eunid continued to move with a purpose.
His face was adorned with a warm, genuine smile as he went around helping the wounded n, treating their injuries with care.
He used his torn shirt as makeshift bandages, applying his spiritual energy to cleanse and soothe their wounds.
"Bring refreshnts for our veterans," Eunid commanded. The maids hurried to comply, bringing trays of food and drink to the battered soldiers. Eunid personally handed out water and small portions of food, making sure each commander was attended to.
"Thank you, young master," one of the commanders said, his voice rough but sincere.
Another nodded in agreent, "This is how a future leader of the family should be, humble and caring."
Eunid’s ears caught whispers among the n, praising his actions. "He understands the value of those who fight for the family," one murmured.
"Yes, he treats us with respect," another added. "This is the kind of leadership we need."
Eunid’s smile widened as he continued his rounds, ensuring each commander felt appreciated and cared for. He knew the impact of his actions would resonate far beyond this mont, strengthening his position and earning the loyalty of those who mattered most.
As he moved among them, he could feel the atmosphere shifting.
The earlier animosity was being replaced by respect and admiration. The commanders, once skeptical, now saw Eunid in a different light.
Eunid’s heart swelled with satisfaction. He knew he had taken a significant step in solidifying his place within the family.
The resentnt that he had not co to the war front was gone.
Eunid could hear screams coming from inside his father’s bedchamber. The deep, authoritative voice of his uncle echoed through the halls, berating soone for wasting ti. "Terrible use of ti! The patriarch should punish such inefficiency!" the voice bellowed.
The chamber doors swung open with a loud crash. A muscular man in full military regalia, with the signature red of the family, stepped out. His tal boots clanged against the stone floor with each step. This was none other than Alfred Beeston of the Diligence family. His stiff mustache seed to move with every word he spoke, and despite his imposing physique, he was only at the third rank of the silver realm.
Alfred’s furious expression froze the mont he saw what Eunid was doing. At the sa ti, Eunid’s father, wearing long white robes that covered his entire body, stepped out. His face was worn and skinny from sickness, and he leaned heavily on a walking stick.
Eunid’s father surveyed the scene, noting the commanders now seated and cared for. He turned to his younger brother, a hint of satisfaction in his tired eyes. "It seems he was busy helping the family."
Eunid, pretending not to see his uncle initially, now turned and bowed deeply to his father. "Good day, Father!"
The commanders, recognizing the presence of the patriarch, stood to their feet and bowed in respect. Eunid’s father waved a dismissive hand. "Don’t mind , great warriors. You have done well. Sit and relax."
He then turned to his son, his gaze softening. "What happened to your clothes...?"
Before Eunid could respond, his father noticed the commander’s leg, bandaged and cared for. He nodded in acknowledgnt of Eunid’s work, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. This gesture made Alfred seethe with anger. He had planned to use the commanders’ wounds to put pressure on the family, proving he was the better candidate for patriarch. But his plan had backfired.
Alfred’s eye twitched as he struggled to contain his frustration. He wanted to berate his commanders, to turn the situation to his advantage, but seeing the respect and gratitude in their eyes for Eunid, he knew any further outburst would only make him look petty.
Eunid stood calmly, a serene smile on his face, knowing he had won this round. He had also outmaneuvered his uncle in a subtle yet significant way. The tension in the air was palpable, but Eunid’s father, sensing the brewing storm, intervened.
"Alfred, let us discuss the war front inside," he said, his voice carrying the weight of authority. "Eunid, join us when you are finished here."
"Yes, Father," Eunid replied, bowing once more.
Reviews
All reviews (0)