Suleiman's words seemed to echo endlessly through the tent, and the oppressive atmosphere burst into flames.
An older knight stared wide-eyed in disbelief, his lips trembling as though he wanted to say something but couldn't make a sound.
A younger knight seized his companion's arm so hard that the other man grimaced in pain, yet he grinned like a child all the same.
Land.
Land of their own.
Suleiman watched them quietly, a trace of emotion stirring within him.
No matter the world or the form of feudalism, people's obsession with owning a piece of land was etched deep in their bones—fierce and unyielding.
Dain Deddings merely watched in silence, his lips pressed tightly together.
For an eleven-year-old boy, this scene was far too grand and far too unfamiliar. He had no idea how to handle it.
"Thank you, Lord Suleiman!"
"Lord Suleiman, we're in your debt..."
"My sword is at your service!"
After their brief stunned silence, the knights' emotions erupted. Their faces flushed with excitement as they knelt before Suleiman in unison and bowed respectfully, completely ignoring their young lord.
Suleiman raised a hand to stop them.
He gestured lightly toward the bewildered boy beside him. "Your lord is over there."
The knights froze, then understood what Lord Suleiman meant. They immediately turned to Dain Deddings, knelt again, and loudly praised and thanked their lord.
Dain Deddings looked at Suleiman in shock.
His small head was full of questions. He'd thought Suleiman would simply accept all this, and take the knights' reverence and their disrespect toward House Deddings in stride.
After all, he and his mother were powerless to resist him.
Suleiman could take whatever he wanted.
But he hadn't. He hadn't slighted them. Instead, he had handed everything back to Dain.
Suleiman met the boy's astonished gaze,