“I was able to redirect some chaos bolts, ser.” That is all Lerial wishes to admit.
“Saltaryn has said you had limited abilities to gather order or chaos.”
“Apparently, ser, I have fewer difficulties in turning that which others have gathered against them.”
“Apparently.”
Lerial steps forward and lays the sheets on the desk. “You’ll still have to negotiate a few things.”
“Of course.” Kiedron smiles. “And you can take my place in periodically riding patrols along the Afritan borders.”
“I’d be honored, ser.”
“No … I’m the one to be honored … and relieved.”
Lerial returns his father’s smile.
Everything will continue as it had before Duke Casseon’s ill-considered attack on Verdheld, or perhaps with even fewer border skirmishes and raids … at least for a while … and that is all anyone can expect.
“Let’s go tell your mother and aunt. They’ll be pleased.”
The two walk from the study toward the sun-drenched courtyard.