Knock,Knock
The echo of a knock reverberated through the grand chamber, pulling Varron from his introspection.
"Enter," he commanded, his voice echoing in the spacious room.
The door creaked open, and a maid named Melissa timidly stepped inside. Her eyes were downcast, her hands clasped together nervously.
"Lord Varron," she began, her voice barely above a whisper,
"Your father, the Duke, requests your presence for dinner."
Varron looked at Melissa, his icy gaze softening ever so slightly. He was the villainous Lord Varron, yes, but he was also Kael, a man from a different world. He nodded, acknowledging the message.
"Thank you, Melissa. Inform the Duke that I will be there shortly."
As Varron's words washed over her, Melissa felt a strange sensation in her chest. It was a warmth, a fluttering that made her feel light. It was a feeling she didn't recognize, but it was undeniably pleasant. Could it be happiness? She wasn't sure. All she knew was that it was a response to Varron's unexpected kindness.
With a quick nod, she retreated, leaving Varron alone in his room. As she walked down the hallway, she couldn't help but touch her chest, her mind filled with questions.
Meanwhile, Varron turned his attention back to his reflection in the mirror. Dinner with the Duke, his father in this world, was always a tense affair. But it was also an opportunity, a chance to learn more about this world and his place in it.
'Shall we meet Varron family,then?'
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Varron made his way to the grand dining hall, a room filled with opulent decor and lit by the warm glow of a grand chandelier. Seated at the long, mahogany table were his family members, each engrossed in their own conversations.
At the head of the table was his father, Duke Eldrige, a stern man with a commanding presence. His mother, Lady Eleanora, sat beside him, her beauty undiminished by age, her kind eyes always filled with a complex mix of love and disappointment.
His younger brother, Lucius, was a stark contrast to Varron. With his golden hair and a charm that could disarm anyone, he was the family's golden boy. Yet, there was an undercurrent of resentment in his gaze when he looked at Varron. His sister, Isolde, was the youngest, her fiery red hair a testament to her fiery spirit. She adored Varron, but also feared him, a testament to his complicated reputation.
As Varron took his seat, the servants began to serve the meal. The table was laden with dishes of all sorts, from roasted pheasant to exotic fruits. The aroma of the food filled the room, making mouths water in anticipation.
The dinner progressed with the usual chatter, discussions about politics, trade, and recent happenings. Varron participated, offering his insights while also observing his family. Despite their differences and the roles they played in his novel, they were his family in this world. And their feelings towards him, as complex as they were, mattered.
As the dinner neared its end, Duke Eldrige turned his attention to Varron. His stern gaze bore into him, making the room feel a degree colder.
"Varron," he began, his voice carrying a tone of disapproval,
"Your behavior towards the maids and commoners recently has been unacceptable for me to ignore it anymore."
The room fell silent, all eyes turning to Varron. He felt a pang of guilt whenever he remembering the bruised face of Melissa.
He had inherited Lord Varron's reputation, a reputation stained with cruelty and disdain for those of lower status.
His father's words were like a punch to his gut, a stark reminder of the path he was treading. His mother's disappointed gaze, his brother's resentful glare, his sister's fearful eyes - they all weighed heavily on him.
Varron met his father's gaze, his expression unreadable.
"I understand, Father," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
The Duke's gaze hardened, "And let me be clear, Varron. If such behavior continues, I will not turn a blind eye. You will face the consequences."
The stern warning hung in the air, a clear reminder of the Duke's expectations. Varron felt a conflict within him. He needed to be Varron, the nobleman of this world, but he also needed to be Kael, the man from a different world. He needed to find a balance between both of them so that neither of it has disappear.
Until he reach the ending.
With a deep breath, Varron spoke again, "Father, I wish for a request".
"Speak."
He nod, "I want to ask for your permission for a sparring match with Sir Gareth, the noble knight. I want to test my abilities,and also become stronger at the same time."
His words hung in the air, met with stunned silence. Varron, who had always boasted about his strength, who had always believed that training was beneath him, was asking to spar. The surprise was evident on everyone's face. His mother's eyes widened, his brother's jaw dropped, and his sister looked at him with a mixture of fear and hope.
The Duke studied him for a moment before nodding, "Very well, Varron. It's high time you took your responsibilities seriously."
As the dinner concluded, Varron remained seated, lost in thought. He was ready to face the challenges that lay ahead, ready to navigate the complex path of his dual identity.
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The morning after the family dinner, Varron found himself striding purposefully through the grand corridors of the castle. His destination was the training grounds, a sprawling arena filled with the echoes of clashing swords and grunts of effort.
He was there for a purpose - to train, to become stronger. He had requested a sparring match with one of the noble knights, Sir Gareth, a man renowned for his skill with the sword and his unwavering honor.
Before leaving, he had summoned Melissa, the timid maid who had caught his attention. He had asked her to bring him a towel at the sparring arena, a simple request. But then he had also asked her to watch him spar, a request that had left her wide-eyed but curiously intrigued.
As Varron made his way through the stone corridors, the morning sun streaming through the tall windows, he could feel the weight of the stares. Servants paused in their chores, nobles stopped their conversations, all eyes on him. His reputation as the cruel Lord Varron preceded him, but now, there was also a sense of curiosity, of anticipation. Word of his request to spar had spread like wildfire, and it had left the castle's inhabitants intrigued.
He could see the fear in the eyes of the maids as they quickly averted their gazes, the wary glances from the guards as they stiffened, the curious stares from the nobles as they whispered behind their hands. They all knew him as the fearsome Lord Varron, but today, they were seeing a different side of him.
Varron kept his head high, his gaze steady. He was aware of the stares, the whispers, but he didn't let them deter him. He was on a path to change, a path to balance his two identities. And he was ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.
As Varron arrived at the training grounds, he saw him - Sir Gareth, the noble knight he was to spar with. Gareth was a tall, broad-shouldered man with a stern face that hid a kind heart. His loyalty to the Ainsworth family was unwavering, a trait that was well-respected among the nobles.
Gareth had seen Varron grow up, had seen the transformation from a carefree child to the feared Lord Varron. He had always been intrigued by this change. He didn't approve of Varron's cruel behavior, but his loyalty to the Ainsworth name meant he didn't question it openly.
As Varron approached, Gareth gave him a curt nod,
"Lord Varron," he greeted, his voice carrying a hint of curiosity.
This was the first time Varron had shown interest in training, and Gareth was keen to see what the young lord was capable of.
Varron met his gaze,
"Sir Gareth," he returned the greeting.
He could see the intrigue in Gareth's eyes, but there was also a glimmer of hope. Perhaps Gareth, like him, hoped for a change.
As they faced each other, swords in hand, Varron could feel a rush of adrenaline. He was about to spar with one of the most skilled knights in the kingdom, a chance to see the true abilities of Varron is.,