Veris did not look back as he left his father's study.
The heavy wooden door slowly closed behind him, but he made no move to leave.
He simply stood quietly in the sunlight at the end of the corridor, gazing at the sky with somber eyes as he considered what to do next.
His older brother Pal stood a few steps away. They exchanged a glance, but neither spoke.
Although they shared the same father, they barely knew each other.
Especially in the sprawling Calvin Family.
There were countless brothers and factions everywhere.
And Veris had no faction or foundation to speak of.
His mother had been a commoner-more precisely, a maid who had caught his father's eye on a whim.
Beautiful and gentle, but of lowly birth.
She had enjoyed few privileges within the family and had taken no part in its affairs.
As a result, Veris had no full siblings and received little in the way of family resources. Even at family meals, he quietly occupied the least conspicuous chair in a corner.
And his mother had died of illness when he was twelve.
After that, he had grown even more taciturn, quietly obeying orders and completing missions in the family's knight regiment.
Veris's goal had always been simple.
He wanted no part in the family's tangled power struggles or the scheming between brothers.
He merely wanted to serve as a dutiful commander beneath the Calvin banner, fight on the battlefield, and steadily earn merit. Perhaps he could secure a minor title and live out his life in peace.
He had put a great deal of effort into that goal.
He quietly pored over generations of Calvin tactical notes in the library, studying battle formations and terrain-based tactics. He paid retired veteran knights out of his own pocket