[House Veyrath — Azram’s Office — Two Weeks Later, Morning]
Two weeks had passed since the incident at the imperial palace and the revelation of the orphanage’s crimes.
In the capital of Eshkaran, rumors traveled faster than merchants crossing the eastern trade routes. The Malik had grown unusually silent, issuing no new orders concerning Lady Seyra, a first that had not escaped the notice of the imperial court.
The most persistent rumor, however, was that Malik Zayrakh Azrath had once shown unexpected tenderness toward the adopted daughter of Azram Vaerun Veyrath.
No one knew what had truly happened between Malik, the Azram, and the little girl. In Eshkaran, gossip was a favorite pastime, but gossiping about the Malik’s private affairs could be an excellent way to shorten one’s life.
Meanwhile, the orphanage scandal had shaken the nobility.
The institution had been sealed, its funds confiscated, and the nobles implicated in the trafficking placed under House Veyrath’s custody pending imperial proceedings. The children recovered from the illegal auction had been returned to the orphanage under new supervision, where they were receiving proper care.
As for the former director and the teachers, their fate had become a grim warning. According to the reports circulating through the capital, they had been forced to run continuously across the burning desert for a week. Unable to endure the punishment, they had ultimately thrown themselves from a cliff rather than continue.
Some called it justice; others called it barbarity, and House Veyrath offered no comment. And its future heir?
She had far more important matters to investigate; for instance, what exactly did her father do all day?
"Wow."
The word rang through Vaerun’s office.
Seated behind a broad cedar desk inlaid with bronze and lapis lazuli, Vaerun slowly lifted his silver eyes from the documents before him.
Seyra stood in the doorway, staring at him as though she had just witnessed a sacred miracle. Mira stood a few steps behind her. Vaerun glanced at the papers scattered across his desk, then back at his daughter.
"What is so fascinating?"
Seyra walked into the office with an expression of profound disbelief.
"Papa, you actually work!"
. . .
. . .
Vaerun stared at her.
Ravian, who stood beside a shelf of clay tablets with a stack of documents in his arms, immediately looked toward the ceiling. His expression suggested that the morning had already become considerably more interesting than he had hoped.
"Of course I work," Vaerun replied.
Seyra approached the desk and peered at the rows of documents. "But I’ve never seen you do it!"
She planted both hands on the edge of his desk and leaned forward, examining the documents with great suspicion.
"I thought you only killed people."
Ravian made a small, strangled sound. Vaerun turned his head slowly toward his assistant.
"Do you have something to say, Ravian?"
His assistant straightened. "Nothing, my lord. Although, to be fair, I perform most of the administrative work. It is a demanding occupation, raising a Azram who prefers to settle disputes by frightening everyone in the room."
. . .
. . .
The office fell silent.
Vaerun shot a death glare at him, saying, "My sword has not tasted blood for two weeks."
. . .
. . .
Ravian’s face became pale as he bowed. "I don’t think your sword is thirsty right now, Azram."
"Ravian does all the work?"
Ravian said, carefully muttering, "Your father occasionally signs the documents."
Azram took his sword, and the assistant immediately bowed his head. "I believe I have an urgent matter to attend to elsewhere."
"There is none elsewhere. This is your office."
"Then I shall attend to it at the other end of the office."
Seyra burst into giggles. Vaerun sighed, but before he could reprimand either of them, the little girl hurried around the desk and stretched out her arms.
Vaerun set his pen aside and lifted her onto his lap. Seyra settled comfortably against him as though this had been the inevitable conclusion of the conversation. She rested her hands on the desk and leaned over a document.
For several seconds, she studied it with the intensity of a royal scholar examining an ancient tablet.
Then she blinked and moved closer.
She blinked again; finally, she leaned back and made a deeply offended face.
"The letters are terrible; they don’t make any sense. They just sit there in rows, looking important."
Ravian lowered his documents to hide his smile. Vaerun picked up the parchment and held it before her.
"Can you read any of it?"
Seyra squinted.
"No."
"Then how have you concluded that the letters are terrible?"
"Because they refuse to explain themselves."
Vaerun looked at her for a long moment before setting the document down.
"I see."
Seyra nodded solemnly. "It’s a very rude language."
For the first time that morning, Ravian failed to suppress his laughter. Vaerun ignored him and studied the child sitting on his lap. Seyra had been quick to learn the household’s routines, the names of the guards, and precisely which servants could be persuaded to provide extra desserts. Yet when faced with a simple document, she looked as though the scribes of Eshkaran had personally declared war upon her.
"Ravian," Vaerun said.
His assistant straightened at once. "Yes, Azram?"
"Did you find any tutor for my daughter?"
"Not yet, my lord. We have been occupied with the investigation and the recovery of the missing children. I have not yet arranged a formal education for Lady Seyra."
Vaerun glanced at the little girl in his arms.
She was still glaring at the document.
"It is time she began her studies," he said. "Reading, writing, arithmetic, imperial history, and the customs of the noble houses. She will also need instruction in etiquette."
Seyra’s head snapped up.
"Etiquette?"
"Yes."
"What is that?"
"Something you appear determined to avoid learning."
Vaerun continued as though nothing unusual had happened. "You will learn how to address the imperial court, how to behave during formal gatherings, and how to distinguish an insult from a diplomatic statement."
Seyra frowned. "But they’re both mean."
"The difference is that one can start a war while the other allows everyone to pretend they are being polite."
She stared at him, then she slowly turned toward Ravian.
"Ravian, is that what you do all day?"
Ravian pressed his lips together. "Among other duties, my lady."
Seyra looked horrified.
"Poor Ravian."
"Thank you for your sympathy," he replied gravely. "It is the first compensation I have received this week."
Vaerun placed a hand on Seyra’s head before she could offer to rescue Ravian from his employment.
"Your tutor will be selected carefully. I want someone patient, knowledgeable, and capable of teaching a child without mistaking discipline for cruelty."
Vaerun’s expression cooled slightly.
Seyra looked up at him, then leaned against his chest and wrapped her little arms around him. He rested his chin briefly on the top of her head before reaching for the next document.
"Ravian, begin searching for suitable tutors. I want candidates whose reputations have been thoroughly examined."
"At once, my lord."
Ravian bowed and withdrew.
Vaerun glanced down at the little girl sitting on his lap. Seyra was humming to herself, her legs swinging idly above the floor as she watched him pick up his pen.
Now that he thought about it, she spent nearly all her time with him, Mira, Renn, and the household staff. She rarely mentioned children her own age.
Perhaps it was time she made a friend.
"Seyra, would you like to make some friends?"
Her humming stopped. She looked up at him with an expression of immediate disgust.
"No."
Vaerun raised an eyebrow. "Why not?"
"I’m happy here, Papa." She tightened her arms around him. "I have you, Mira, Butler Renn, and everyone else. I don’t need anyone else."
Vaerun studied her for a moment. She wasn’t being playful or stubborn; she meant it.
He understood why.
Seyra had once looked at Malik Zayrakh with the excitement of a child meeting someone she admired. She had wanted to be close to him, believing there might be room for her affection beneath his fearsome reputation. Instead, she had returned to House Veyrath heartbroken.
Now, she would rather keep everyone else at a distance than risk feeling that way again. Vaerun set his pen aside and slipped an arm around her.
"Very well, little lizard."
Seyra relaxed against him, relieved that he wouldn’t argue. He pressed a quiet kiss to her hair and returned to his documents, keeping one arm around her as she settled comfortably against his chest.
He wouldn’t force her to open her heart before she was ready; for now, House Veyrath was her home, and she had him, and that was enough.