One day, as the sun began to cast long shadows over the Vargas estate, an unexpected letter arrived. Geralt, ever efficient, brought it directly to Count Vargas, who was still buried in his mountain of documents. The count glanced up as Geralt entered, a flicker of curiosity crossing his stern features.
"What is it now, Geralt?" Count Vargas asked, his voice tinged with the weariness of endless responsibilities.
Geralt handed him the sealed letter. "This just arrived, my lord. It's from Count Ned."
Count Vargas raised an eyebrow. "Count Ned? What does he want?"
Breaking the seal, Count Vargas unfolded the letter and began to read. His expression shifted from curiosity to surprise and then to contemplation. When he finished, he set the letter down on his desk and leaned back in his chair, lost in thought.
"Well?" Geralt inquired, sensing the significance of the message.
"Count Ned is organizing a hunting competition," Count Vargas replied. "It's intended for the younger generation of noble families. And Duke Edmond Hove himself will be the guest of honor."
Geralt's eyes widened slightly. "Duke Hove? That is quite an honor. His presence will attract much attention."
Count Vargas nodded, his mind already working through the implications. "Indeed. It's an opportunity for the young nobles to prove their worth and to make connections that could shape their futures. And with Duke Hove attending, it will undoubtedly be a prestigious event."
"Will you send Damian and Eliza?" Geralt asked, knowing that they were the obvious choices for such a high-profile occasion.
The count considered for a moment. "Yes, Damian and Eliza will go. They are both skilled hunters, and their presence will reflect well on our family."
"And what about Alaric?" Geralt ventured cautiously.
Count Vargas's face hardened slightly at the mention of his youngest son. "Alaric… he is skilled in his own right, but his methods are unconventional. I'm not sure if he would be a suitable representative for our family at such an event."
Geralt remained silent, sensing that the count was weighing his options carefully.
"However," Count Vargas continued after a pause, "this might be a chance for him to prove himself in a different setting. If he can demonstrate his capabilities in a controlled environment, it could work in our favor."
"Shall I inform the young masters and mistress of your decision?" Geralt asked.
The count nodded. "Yes. Tell them to prepare. The competition will be held in two weeks' time. I expect them to represent our family with honor and to make the most of this opportunity."
"As you wish, my lord," Geralt said, bowing slightly before leaving the room to relay the news.
Count Vargas leaned back in his chair, his mind now focused on the upcoming event. The hunting competition was a significant opportunity, not just for his children, but for the Vargas family as a whole. It was a chance to solidify alliances, showcase their skills, and perhaps even mend some of the rifts that had grown within the family.
"Alaric," he murmured to himself, "this is your chance to prove that your path, though different, can still bring honor to the Vargas name."
With that thought, he returned to his work, a renewed sense of purpose driving his efforts. The days ahead would be crucial, and he would ensure that his family was ready for whatever challenges and opportunities lay in wait.
The Vargas family gathered for dinner in the grand dining hall, the atmosphere tinged with a mix of excitement and tension. The long table was adorned with a feast fit for nobility, but the real focus was on the recent news.
"Thank you, Father, for this opportunity," Damian said, his voice brimming with gratitude. He sat tall and proud, eager to prove himself in the upcoming hunting competition.
Eliza nodded in agreement, her eyes shining with anticipation. "Yes, Father. We won't disappoint you. This is a chance to show everyone what the Vargas family is capable of."
Count Vargas nodded, his stern gaze sweeping over his children. "See that you don't. This is an important event for our family. The eyes of many influential people will be upon you."
Isabella, seated at the opposite end of the table, leaned forward slightly, her expression one of maternal pride and concern. "You both must do your best. This is a significant opportunity to elevate our standing. Remember, it's not just about the hunt; it's about making the right connections."
Alaric sat quietly, his thoughts swirling. The excitement of his siblings and the expectations of his parents felt like a distant echo. He knew his methods and goals differed from those of Damian and Eliza, but this competition was a chance to prove his worth.
"Alaric," Count Vargas's voice cut through his thoughts, "you haven't said anything."
Alaric looked up, meeting his father's gaze. "I understand what's expected of me. I'll do what I must."
Damian smirked, unable to resist a jibe. "Just try not to embarrass us with your... unconventional methods."
Eliza giggled, adding, "Yes, Alaric. This is a noble competition, not one of your solo escapades."
Alaric's eyes narrowed slightly, but he kept his composure. "I'll handle it."
Isabella's voice softened slightly as she addressed Alaric, though the concern in her eyes was more for the family's reputation than for her youngest son. "Just remember, Alaric, this is your chance to prove that you can contribute to the family in a meaningful way."
As the conversation shifted back to Damian and Eliza's preparations, Alaric's mind wandered to the pistols he had crafted. This would be his opportunity to showcase their power and precision, and perhaps earn a measure of respect from his family.
Count Vargas's voice brought him back to the present. "We leave in a week. Make sure you're all prepared."
"Yes, Father," Damian and Eliza chorused, their enthusiasm palpable.
The rest of the meal continued with a mix of tactical discussions and excited chatter about the competition. Alaric remained mostly silent, his mind already strategizing. He knew that to succeed, he would need to rely on his unique skills and the weapons he had painstakingly developed.
As dinner concluded, Count Vargas stood, signaling the end of the meal. "Remember, this is not just about winning. It's about representing the Vargas name with honor and skill. Do not forget that."
With that, the family dispersed, each member heading to their respective quarters to prepare. Alaric lingered for a moment, catching a final look of encouragement from Geralt before heading to his room. He had much to plan, and little time to waste.