"What's… going on, Nicolas?!"
The dining hall was filled with confusion, but no one dared to direct their questions to Riley.
How could they, when he was in the midst of a hushed conversation with the bishop? And from the way the bishop kept his head bowed, it was becoming increasingly clear that the Hero held far more authority than they had assumed.
So instead, they turned to Louis.
"What is going on, son?"
Son.
How long had it been since Louis was called that by his father?
From his earliest memories, Nicolas had only ever addressed him by name.
In his past life, at least his mother had shown him some affection before duty ultimately overshadowed her motherhood. But here, in Camrose, his father had not even made the slightest attempt to acknowledge him.
Not when his mother died. Not even with a word or gesture of comfort.
And yet now, the very same man—one of the strongest swordmasters in the entire country—was rubbing his hands together as he hesitantly approached him.
