Chapter 11 Dinner Affinity

  The room fell silent.

  Lady Seraphine blinked, startled. “That is… an extraordinary offer, Master Havlo. You teach princes, not county lords.”

  Lord Eldric eyed him cautiously. “Why now?”

  Master Havlo rose and wandered toward the hearth, where the fire crackled brightly despite the warm spring air. His hand was on the hearth as he leaned in, stared at the flames, with a thoughtful expression on his face.

  “I’ve seen enough,” he murmured, then turned back to Eldric. “You must go through a lot of firewood.”

  Lady Seraphine sucked in a breath. Her fingers tightened around her goblet.

  How does he know that? she wondered, unease creeping in.

  Then Havlo turned to Lisette with a knowing smile. “The House of Avalon is blessed. Your daughter has an affinity.”

  Lisette blinked. “An affinity? What’s that?”

  Havlo ignored her completely and spoke to her parents. “She’s very young to show signs of power. She’ll need careful guidance to control and realize how to use it.”

  Lady Seraphine’s voice was low, uncertain. “Affinity?”

  Lisette leaned forward, eyes shining. “Affinity to what?” she asked, hopeful.

  Havlo took his time sipping his wine, unbothered. “To protect her and others, she’ll need control. These powers can be... unpredictable in the beginning.”

  Lisette frowned. “Yes, but what is it?”

  Still nothing. Havlo continued as though she hadn't spoken. “I recommend limiting visitors for the next four to six months. We don’t yet know how far this goes.”

  Lord Eldric scratched his beard. “That long?”

  “I’ll be away for two and a half months to fulfill existing commitments,” Havlo said, “but I’ll return for a time. Afterward, I’ll assign a disciple to continue her instruction.”

  Lisette had had enough. “But what is it?! Why can’t anyone tell me what my affinity is?!”

  Havlo just smiled at her. “Patience, child.”

  “Ugh!” Lisette groaned and threw herself back in her chair. “You’re not telling me on purpose!”

  Aldric snorted. Lady Seraphine gave Lisette a warning glance, though the corners of her mouth twitched.

  Lord Eldric, sensing the moment, changed the subject. “Aldric, you’ll need to adjust your summer plans. You’ll lead the escort for the trade caravan with me.”

  Aldric straightened. “An honor, Father.”

  Lisette, at her breaking point, slammed her palms on the table. “WHAT. IS. MY. AFFINITY?!” she wailed, on the edge of tears.

  Master Havlo sighed theatrically and looked to his disciple. “Somanta, have you figured it out yet?”

  Somanta crossed her arms, scowling. “No.”

  Havlo leaned back, amused. “Has no one noticed that every room in this house has a fire roaring in the hearth... in late spring?”

  A hush fell over the room. Realization slowly dawned. Lady Seraphine’s mouth opened slightly. Lord Eldric glanced at the flames beside them.

  Then, Havlo finally turned to Lisette.

  “Your affinity is to ice.”

  Silence. Then—

  Aldric grinned. “I knew it. Your hands are always freezing. You’re an Ice Queen!”

  Lisette’s eyes went wide. “YOU—!”

  She lunged across the table at him. Aldric laughed and dodged as she flailed at him, red-faced. The whole room burst into laughter—even Lady Seraphine hid a smile behind her hand.

  Havlo, now comfortably reclined with his wine, chuckled. “Yes,” he said, watching the chaos unfold. “This will be... quite the challenge.”

  …

  After the meal and the laughter, quiet returned to the manor. Servants cleared the table, and the flickering light of the hearth bathed the sitting room in a soft glow. Lisette stood listlessly at the edge of the room, arms crossed, frustration lingering in her furrowed brow.

  “Lisette,” Somanta said gently, nodding toward the bay window. “Come sit with me a moment.”

  The young noble hesitated, followed. Aldric trailed behind, hands tucked behind his back with mock innocence.

  Somanta, barely older than Lisette, settled into the cushioned bench beneath the window and pulled her braid over one shoulder, taking on a teacher's demeanor. “You’ve had quite the evening.”

  Lisette dropped onto the bench beside her. “That’s one way to put it. Everyone else seems to know more about me than I do.” She shot a glare at Aldric, who held up his hands in surrender.

  Somanta chuckled. “That’s because they’ve seen the signs longer than you’ve felt them. The constant fires in every room? Your cold hands? Affinity leaves clues.”

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  Lisette shifted. “You said it’s not magic nor a Gift. But I want to understand. What is it?”

  Somanta nodded thoughtfully. “Imagine a thread that ties your spirit to one of the world’s great forces. It is a special thread worked into the embroidery of your life. Ice, fire, wind, stone… They aren’t just elements. They’re alive, in a way. Affinity is your natural connection to one of them. Yours is ice.”

  “Does that mean I can freeze things?” Lisette asked, leaning forward, her voice rising with excitement. “Can I make snow fall from the ceiling?” she asked wth light in her eyes.

  “Eventually, maybe,” Somanta said. “But it’s not like spellcasting. You’re not commanding it—you’re aligning with it. Affinity listens when you understand it, not when you shout at it.”

  Aldric leaned against the window frame. “Sounds like dealing with you, Lisette. It only works if I’m polite and whisper compliments.”

  Lisette groaned. “Can you not?”

  Somanta laughed. “You two are ridiculous.” Her voice softened again. “But he raises a good point. Affinity isn’t harmless. If you try to use too much too soon—if you push without control—it pushes back.”

  Lisette blinked. “Pushes back?”

  “It’s called backlash,” Somanta said. “Your body isn’t a spellbook. Channeling too much Affinity can wear it down. Headaches. Shivers. Frostbite, in your case. Emotion can make it worse—fear, anger, even joy. Without training, it gets tangled with what you feel.”

  Aldric frowned. “So if she tries to make it snow in the great hall, she might end up an icicle?”

  “Or freeze her shoes to the floor,” Somanta replied. “Or pass out. Maybe even worse. This is why she has to learn control.”

  Lisette swallowed, eyes wide. “So… it’s like holding hands with a storm.”

  Somanta smiled, impressed. “Exactly.”

  Lisette was quiet for a long moment. Then: “So if I learn to understand it, guide it… It becomes like magic.”

  “It becomes yours,” Somanta said. “But only if you respect it.”

  Aldric rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “And if she throws a tantrum, I should build a snow fort.”

  Lisette lunged at him, swatting at his arm. “I will freeze your bathwater.”

  “Ha! You’d have to learn how first!”

  Somanta laughed again as the two wrestled lightly beside her.

  As she leaned back against the window, watching the sun dip behind the trees and the shadows stretch long across the floor, she smiled to herself.

  “Gods help me,” she muttered, “this is going to be so much work.”

  ….

  The Lord, Lady, and Master spoke quietly at the table. “It seems dangerous to follow this path as it will draw attention to the family,” Lady Seraphine said with worry.

  “No, actually, this is the very best thing to help draw attention in a way that will limit the questions. If I started spending more time in your territory, people would ask questions and investigate. Now, they will know the reason and understand. Affinity is powerful but dangerous and needs to be controlled,” Master Havlo stated. "The biggest problem you’ll be dealing with is the flood of betrothal requests for your daughter."

  The words hit the room like a thunderclap. Silence dropped so fast it could’ve broken something. Even the air seemed to shiver. Somanta glanced at Lisette, but both of the children had already turned wide-eyed toward their father. His expression was carved from granite, radiating the kind of quiet danger that made you question your life choices.

  Without missing a beat, Lady Seraphine shot her husband a look sharp enough to shave metal. “Let’s not summon any extra disasters today, Master Havlo,” she said coolly, the “or else” very much implied.

  …

  Midnight

  The fire in the hearth burned low, casting long shadows along the walls of Lord Eldric’s study. Bookshelves lined with tomes of war and law framed the dark room, and a single candle flickered on the desk between the two men.

  Master Havlo stood, hands clasped behind his back, staring at the dying fire as if it might offer an answer. Lord Eldric sat with a cup of cooled wine, his expression grim.

  “He’s awake,” Havlo said at last, voice low. Returning from the boy's room.

  Eldric nodded once. “And?”

  Havlo turned, his eyes sharp beneath furrowed brows. “And I need to know what kind of boy I’m about to train. Noble or petty? Intelligent or thoughtless? Is he brave—or reckless? Gods forbid I nurture a tyrant under this roof.”

  Eldric’s jaw tightened. He set down the wine. “He’s a boy.”

  “I don’t have time for sentiment, Eldric,” Havlo said. “Not when the soul essence stirring in your son echoes legends that make kings and burn kingdoms.”

  The lord’s eyes flicked up, calm but hard. “Then you’ll get your answer—without the theatrics.”

  He rose slowly, walking to the window. Outside, the manor grounds lay still under a crescent moon. “He’s quiet. Not out of fear—he just watches. Always listening. Even when you think he’s lost in some daydream, he’s not. I used to think he was slow, distracted. Turns out he’s cataloguing every damn thing you say.”

  Havlo watched him in silence.

  “He’s got fire in him—runs, climbs, spars when no one’s looking. A few friends. Town guards. Two boys from the southern stables. Keeps his circle small, but he remembers everything. Did his sword drills. Skipped chores. Typical.”

  The old master nodded. “Not unusual.”

  “No,” Eldric agreed. “But even now—while he sleeps—we can feel it.”

  He rubbed a hand over his face, as though trying to clear a thought that wouldn’t leave. “The boy hasn’t said a word. He can barely open his eyes. And yet... the manor isn’t the same.”

  He met Havlo’s gaze.

  “The candles burn longer. The mirrors fog without reason. I’ve had three servants complain of strange dreams after tending his room. Dreams they won’t speak of.

  He paused, then added, voice quieter: “I sat beside him yesterday. Just sat. And I swear to you, Havlo—there were whispers. Like wind, but heavier. Intentional.

  “That,” Havlo said darkly, “is precisely what concerns me.”

  He stepped toward the desk, setting both hands on the edge. “We don’t know what kind of soul essence White is. If it’s one of the great ones—if it’s ancient, primordial—then training him won’t be enough. We’ll need to contain him until we’re sure.”

  “Contain?” Eldric asked sharply.

  Havlo didn’t blink. “Or would you rather raise the next curse to walk this world? Would you wager your family's life? The territories? The realm’s?”

  Eldric didn’t answer right away. He returned to his chair, exhaling slowly. “We’ve already decided to use Lisette’s Affinity to our advantage. The isolation. The rumors of danger. They’ll buy us time. Keep the nobles, the King’s spies, and the Church off our doorstep—for now.”

  “And the boy?”

  “He learns to hide it. First thing. How to bury it deep until no one sees what’s glowing underneath.” Eldric leaned forward, voice low. “Then we teach him what it is. And how not to let it control him. That’s where you come in.”

  Havlo was quiet for a beat. “And if he can’t?”

  “Then we protect the world from him,” Eldric said without flinching. “Just as we protect him from the world.”

  There was a long silence. Only the soft crackle of the hearth remained.

  Finally, Havlo spoke again. “You’d kill your own son if you had to.”

  Eldric’s eyes never wavered. “I’d die before I let it come to that. But if the day comes when the thing inside him becomes something else… I won’t hesitate.”

  Havlo nodded slowly. “Then I’ll forge him—not like a general sharpens a weapon, but as a maker shapes a tool. Carefully. With patience. As a builder lays stone by stone, or a farmer tends a seed, not for war... but for purpose. And still—praying the day never comes when the world demands he be used.”

  Eldric raised the wine glass again, but didn’t drink. “Then may the gods be kind to us, Havlo. Because something’s waking inside my boy—and I don’t think it plans to sleep again.”

  .