The sun was almost down and the breeze was beginning to cool the air.
"Is Dad here today?" I asked the two guards who were with me.
Doug, the older of the two, nodded, his firm eyes, as always, showing respect.
"He's here, young master. We need to go back now."
I nodded and watched the two guards walk away, heading towards the carriage. They soon disappeared from my sight, as if they were just shadows at the end of the road.
Inside the castle, I could already feel the familiarity of footsteps echoing down the stone corridor. The castle smelled of aged wood, mixed with the soft scent of the flowers in the inner garden. I walked to the entrance, where old Alfred was waiting for me. He was there, waiting, with his impeccable posture and that black suit that always looked so perfect.
Alfred's white hair fell impeccably over his forehead, and he walked towards me with firm steps, as if he knew exactly where to step, even without looking at the ground. Behind him, several guards followed, but he, always the first, stood out from the crowd.
"Alfred." I greeted him respectfully.
He was more than a butler. Alfred was a father figure to me, someone who had always been there for my family. He had worked for my father for over 30 years, being responsible for everything within the castle - from logistics to administration, even investigations into the territories. He had known my father since I was a child.
"I told the baron a long time ago that he should have left you under Benta's protection. But he didn't listen to me. Now, look, young master... you've already been injured for the third time. He should have taken my advice." Alfred shook his head, with a look of disapproval that I already knew well.
I smiled reassuringly, more out of politeness than because it really bothered me. I had outgrown these situations, but the castle always treated these matters with a delicacy that sometimes even bothered me.
"I don't intend to leave school. I'm learning a lot every day." I replied, trying to deflect any concerns he might have.
Alfred sighed, the sound deep and tired, and began to guide me into the castle.
"The situation outside is not good right now. We don't think it's wise to let you walk around the city alone. More importantly, how are you feeling, young master?"
"I'm fine, Alfred. It's all in the past." I said, my voice firm, trying to dispel any doubts he might have about my recovery.
We walked side by side to the main hall. When we arrived, I saw two familiar figures waiting there, near the columns, wearing yellow dresses. Both bowed in unison as soon as they saw Alfred and me approaching.
"Brother Zaatar!" the girls said together, their voices in perfect harmony.
"Vera, Nora..." I replied with a smile. I recognized them immediately.
The two twins, with their shy and somewhat aloof faces, came from a poor branch of the family. They had arrived at the castle some time ago, seeking refuge. Their family had lost everything - land, property, everything. They were younger than me, so they called me "brother", a title of respect, but also of a certain intimacy, as if they somehow saw me as a protective figure.
I was always kind to them, despite some personal difficulties. Even in difficult times, such as when I was hurt by the loss of something that seemed important to me, I treated them with affection. There was something pure about them, something almost childlike, and they couldn't be blamed for the family's mistakes.
"Cheerful today, huh?" I asked, with a slight smile.
Ever since they arrived, I've treated them well. They seemed to like it, feeling at ease in my presence. There was always something shy about their posture, something that made me think that perhaps their parents had asked them to do that—greet me as soon as they arrived.
"Are you feeling better now?" Vera asked, with a shy smile, while Nora looked away, avoiding my gaze as usual. They were both visibly nervous.
It was hard not to notice how young they still were. Their bodies hadn't fully developed, and their eyes, filled with an almost palpable shyness, revealed the innocence of someone who was still discovering the world. They looked at me like a young deer in front of a predator, not sure what to think, but confident in their frankness.
"I'm fine now, don't worry." I replied, smiling once again, trying to reassure them. While I was talking about my day, I discreetly passed them two silver coins. I didn't use my allowance very often, but I knew they needed it more than I did.
They hesitated for a moment, exchanging glances, before accepting the gift with a shy smile. The feeling of being useful, of being able to help even in a simple way, brought a little relief to my heart. They were young, and in a world like ours, kindness and generosity meant more than words could express.
I had no ulterior motive. I just wanted to spoil them a little. For me, they were like a breath of beauty and lightness in the midst of the harshness of the days - a silent relief for the eyes and the spirit. After spending a long-time receiving greetings and compliments from all sorts of people, I finally managed to break free and go back to my room.
I closed the door behind me and took a deep breath, as if that simple gesture could expel the fatigue that was building up in my shoulders.
My room was simple but cozy. Next to the bed, a desk waited for me, and on it, like an altar of memory and habit, rested an open book. The quill pen was carefully arranged next to a small jar of ink, and three candles burned gently, spreading a warm, flickering light. They had been arranged in the shape of a small mountain - a symbol that only I fully understood. From the flames came a special fragrance, a mixture of dried flowers and rare herbs, which reminded me of home... or of something I had once called that.
I pulled out the chair slowly and sat down. I let my fingers wander over the surface of the book before picking up the pen. It was a curious piece - heavy, made of a dense, cold material. The quill, tinged with a reddish hue at its tip, had intrigued me since the day I found it. I never knew which bird it came from. And, in fact, I never asked. Some things I preferred to keep as little mysteries.