Knock, knock.
"Enter," came the stern voice from inside the room.
Varron pushed the door open, stepping into his father's office. The room was as he remembered it - filled with books, maps, and the distinctive scent of old parchment.
His father, the Duke, sat behind a large desk. His expression was calm and stern, as always. He looked up as Varron entered, his gaze meeting his son's.
"Varron, do you know why I called for you here?" the Duke asked, his voice echoing in the quiet room.
Varron nodded, taking a deep breath before speaking.
"I believe it's about the rumors and my duel in the marketplace," he said, his voice steady despite the seriousness of the situation.
"I apologize, father. I understand that my actions have led to our family's reputation being tarnished."
Varron continue as he bow down respectfully.
The Duke listened to Varron's apology, his gaze steady. When Varron finished speaking, the Duke leaned back in his chair, his expression thoughtful.
"Varron," the Duke began, his voice calm yet commanding,
"I have already heard everything from Melissa. She told me about the duel, the broken sword, and the true reason why you do all that."
He paused, his gaze never leaving Varron.
"However, hearing your apology now, it seems you have no intention of explaining your side of the story. Are you denying everything Melissa told me, or are you accepting the blame without offering any explanation?"
Varron was silent for a moment, his gaze meeting the Duke's. He took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts before speaking.
"Truth is just useless information if it doesn't have proof, father," Varron said, his voice steady.
"Whether Melissa's account is true or not, the fact remains that our family's name has been tarnished."
He paused, a serious look in his eyes.
"And for that, I apologize. Regardless of the circumstances, I take full responsibility for the consequences of my actions."
Eldridge look at his son in silent before asking another question.
"Do you regret what you've done?" the Duke asked, his gaze piercing.
His question hung in the air, a challenge and an inquiry all at once.
Varron met his father's gaze, his mind whirling with the events of the past few days.
He saw again the marketplace, the duel, the fireball, and the broken sword. He saw the faces of the crowd, their expressions shifting from excitement to fear to confusion. He saw Alicia, her determination, her apology, and her acceptance of his challenge.
After a moment, he nodded slowly.
"...Yes, I regret it," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
His father's stern expression didn't change, but there was a flicker of disappointment in his eyes. It was as if he had expected a different answer, a different reaction from his son.
Then he raised his head, meeting his father's gaze squarely.
"I should have killed that lowly noble at that time," he said, his cold voice reach his father's ears.
"But I considered the crowd, who were not used to the sight of blood or death. I didn't want to cause a panic situation . So, I let him be."
"Rather," Varron added, his voice echoing in the silence of the room,
"the blood of such trash should not be allowed to stain our kingdom's pristine streets."
The room fell into a tense silence, the weight of Varron's words hanging heavy in the air.
"HAHAHAHA,"
Then, to Varron's surprise, his father erupted into laughter. It was a deep, hearty laugh that filled the room, breaking the tension and leaving a sense of amusement in its wake.
"That's an interesting mindset, Varron," the Duke said, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes.
"Tell me, do you know why the Ainsworth family is renowned for its kindness?"
Varron was silent, his mind racing. He had never considered it before, never penned it down in the novel. Why would his father, the stern and formidable Duke of Ainsworth, be recognized for his kindness?
"I don't think I know, father," he finally admitted, his voice filled with curiosity.
The Duke leaned back in his chair, his gaze steady on Varron.
"It's because of pity," he began, his voice taking on a serious tone.
"Pity for the weak, and respect for the strong. The world sees our kindness and they mistake it for weakness. But they fail to understand one crucial detail."
The room seemed to darken, the atmosphere growing heavy with anticipation.
"The Ainsworth family never forgets," the Duke continued, his voice a low growl.
"We remember every slight, every insult, every wrong done to us. And no matter what, we ensure our enemies pay for their actions."
The Duke's gaze hardened, his next words ringing out with the force of a royal decree.
"Leave it to me, Varron. The rumors may continue to swirl, but the family of that lowly noble... they will soon realize the grave mistake they have made."
Varron could feel the intimidating aura radiating from his father, his heart beating nervously in response.
'This heavy feeling, supposed to be the first time I felt it,but my mind seems to hold out.It is because of Varron mentality?'
He thought as he gaze at his father's serious eyes.
He knew better than to decline his offer. He simply nodded,
"Then, I leave it to you, father."
His father nodded in response, then rose from his seat.
" Before that,for your broken sword,I will give you another chance to pick a replacement. Follow me."
___________________
With that, the Duke led Varron out of the room and down a series of corridors. Varron followed, curiosity piqued. Where were they going?
Finally, they arrived at a large, ornate door. The Duke drew a small blade and made a tiny cut on his palm, letting a single drop of blood fall onto the door. The door glowed briefly before swinging open, revealing a room filled with weapons of all kinds..
"This is the Ainsworth treasure room," the Duke announced, his voice echoing in the vast room.
Varron's mind went blank for a moment as he took in the sight. He blinked, his eyes widening in surprise.
"Wait, are you sure, father?" he asked, unable to hide his shock.
The Duke simply nodded, a small smile playing on his lips.
"You have proven yourself what the true Ainsworth should act,not once but twice. Therefore,I will give you a reward.
Pick any weapon you want from this treasure, Varron."
Varron's mind begin to calm down as he bow to his father before entering the room.
As Varron stepped into the treasure room, his mind was filled with thoughts of the plot.
The Ainsworth treasure room was mentioned five years later in the novel. It was a pivotal moment when his younger brother Lucius, who had become the next Duke, was searching for a powerful weapon to exact revenge on Varron, who had left the Ainsworth family and turned into a true villain by then. That was also the moment when he decided to work together with the protagonist's party.
That's when the world know the true power of Ainsworth's Family.
Varron looked around the room, his eyes taking in the array of weapons. Each one was more impressive than the last, each one holding untold power and history. He could hardly believe that he was seeing this room now, years before it was supposed to appear in the story.
"And I didn't think I'd see it now," he murmured, his voice barely audible.
'This is something that I really need right now.I wonder, when father ask what my wish is,will he accepted it if my wish is to choose the weapons from this place?.'
The no answer questions coming from his head,but this is not important one so he let it slide.
'What's important right now is right Infront of me.'