The late afternoon sun bathed the estate in hues of gold and amber as Cale and Lady Althea returned to the manor. The training session had left Althea invigorated despite her physical exhaustion, and Cale noticed the subtle but significant change in her demeanor—a newfound confidence that gleamed in her eyes.
As they entered the main hall, a steward approached, bowing respectfully. "My Lady, Master Cale, Lord Rowan requests your presence in the drawing room."
Althea exchanged a glance with Cale, curiosity flickering across her features. "Did he say why?"
"No, my Lady," the steward replied, "but he seemed most insistent."
With a nod of acknowledgment, Althea led the way, Cale following closely behind. The polished marble floors echoed softly beneath their footsteps as they traversed the grand corridors adorned with tapestries and portraits of generations past.
The drawing room was a refined space, its walls lined with shelves of leather-bound tomes and accented by elegant furnishings. Lord Rowan stood by the window, his expression thoughtful as he gazed out over the sprawling gardens.
"Father," Althea greeted, her voice respectful but curious. "You wished to see us?"
Lord Rowan turned, his piercing gaze settling on them. "Yes. Please, sit."
They took their seats on the plush chairs opposite him. Cale maintained his composed demeanor, his senses keenly attuned to the atmosphere in the room.
"I've received troubling news," Lord Rowan began, his tone measured but grave. "There are whispers of unrest in the northern territories. Bandit activity has increased, and there are rumors of a faction seeking to destabilize the region."
Althea's brows furrowed. "Do you believe these rumors hold weight, Father?"
"I do," he admitted. "Our sources are reliable. The security of our lands may soon be threatened. I've already dispatched scouts to gather more information."
Cale leaned forward slightly. "How can we assist, my Lord?"
Lord Rowan regarded him thoughtfully. "Your skills are formidable, Cale. I may need you to accompany a diplomatic envoy to the northern territories. Your presence could be invaluable in navigating any volatile situations."
Cale inclined his head. "I am at your service, my Lord."
Althea's expression hardened with determination. "If Cale goes, I go too."
Lord Rowan's eyes narrowed. "Althea, this is not a matter to take lightly. The journey will be perilous."
"All the more reason for me to go," she insisted. "I refuse to be sheltered while others risk their lives. Cale has been training me, and I'll continue to learn. I want to protect our people too."
A tense silence settled over the room. Lord Rowan's gaze softened slightly as he regarded his daughter.
"You've grown stronger," he acknowledged. "Very well. You may accompany the envoy, but you will follow Cale's instructions without question. Is that understood?"
Althea nodded firmly. "Yes, Father."
Satisfied, Lord Rowan rose from his seat. "Prepare yourselves. The envoy departs in three days. I will ensure you have all the provisions and protection needed."
As they left the drawing room, Althea's steps were purposeful.
"Thank you, Cale," she said quietly. "For believing in me and helping me become someone who can stand beside you."
He met her gaze, his voice steady. "You've earned that place, my Lady."
The path ahead was uncertain, fraught with danger and intrigue, but together they would face it—strengthened by trust and resolve.