"I think I know what the right choice is, at least for me," Hugo said, clutching his hands together against the chill in the late afternoon air. The gardenās stone bench felt cold even through his dark brown breeches, and his breath misted in front of him with each word. Around them, bare branches reached toward the gray sky like skeletal fingers, and the mist that had clung to the valley all day was beginning to thicken as evening approached.
The air in the garden was crisp and cold, and it helped to clear his mind of the fog it had been in after witnessing Sir Tommin, or rather, Knotās punishment. Lady Ashlynn had been incredibly merciful to the blinded Templar who buried her alive all those months ago, and seeing it gave Hugo hope that she would be as generous with him as sheād been with the fallen Templar.
But no oneās generosity was infinite, and Hugo had spent the past few hours trying to distract himself from the question of how to broach this topic with Lady Ashlynn. When he saw how strained the atmosphere felt between her and Lord Loman after a brief afternoon meal, heād nearly chickened out, telling himself that he would wait until there was a better time.
In the end, it was the thought of two young girls in the great hall of Hanrahan Keep that changed his mind. If they could stand up when everyone else was cowering, and press on even when Dame Sybyll threw one priest across the hall "and tore a limb off another one... Then he could face Lady Ashlynn with the conclusion heād arrived at, even if he was frightened of her response.
"Lady Ashlynn, youāre surrounded by strong warriors," Hugo started, firming up his resolve and looking directly into her emerald eyes from only a few feet away. "You have Sir Ollie, Lord General Thane, Lady Heila, and so many others."
"Iām not a good warrior," he confessed, hanging his head low in a moment of shame. Internally, he could hear Owainās voice berating him for flinching and dropping his sword during practice, and his body still remembered every cut and bruise that Sir Rain had left on his body in the name of ātraining.ā
"I might hold the title of āknight,ā" he said, lifting his head back up to meet her calm, placid gaze. "But Iāve never learned to fight like one, and I probably never will. Iām not cut out for that kind of heroism, and Iām not a brave person the way Sir Ollie and Lady Heila are."
"Ollie was a kitchen boy less than a year ago," Ashlynn pointed out gently. "Heila was a maidservant. Neither of them trained as warriors from a young age, but theyāve gained strength because theyāve found things that are worth fighting for."
"I think, if there was something that was important enough for you to fight for, you might just surprise yourself, Sir Hugo," Ashlynn said with a soft, gentle smile as her eyes studied his face, watching for his reaction.
"If something was that important, I might stand up for it," Hugo said as he thought back over some of the truly extraordinary things that had happened since he was taken to the Vale of Mists. "But thatās different from fighting. Sometimes standing up means talking fast, and sometimes it means doing hard work to prove out whatās right."
"I may not ever be skilled with a sword, my Lady," Hugo said directly. "But I can stand up in other ways. I can do those other things. And... and Iād like to do them for you," he said in a rush. "I know it might be too much to ask to serve as your Steward just because I was Lord Owainās steward," he said, carefully refraining from referring to Owain as her husband.
"Iām sure that I can prove my worth to you, though," he added quickly. "I just... I just need the chance to show you what I can do. Thatās all I wanted to ask for. Not a promise of a position, just the chance to try. Judge me for what I can do and not the people Iāve served."
His voice grew weaker toward the end and he had to stop himself from rambling on. He knew if he let his tongue keep flapping, heād only lower himself even further, so he forced himself to stop talking before he offered to serve as a footman or scribe.
"I heard what you did in Hanrahan," Ashlynn said with a smile that felt warm enough to push back the winter chill that blanketed the dormant garden. "Heila told me that you spent an entire night, racing from gate to gate, buying drinks for men who were stubborn enough and worked up enough to cause trouble, talking sense into people who were too frightened to think straight..."
"Lord Jalal helped me with a blessing that night," Hugo said, not wanting to take credit for what little courage heād managed to scrape together in the aftermath of that horrifying battle. "It helped me to borrow the courage of the First Warrior. I, Iām normally not that brave."
"Lord Jalalās sorcery canāt instill courage in you that you donāt already possess, Hugo," Ashlynn said softly as she reached out to place a reassuring hand on his arm. "It can help you to find the courage that lies beneath the surface, but it cannot make a coward brave, just like it canāt pull nobility from the heart of a scoundrel."
"You stood up for your people that night," Ashlynn said firmly. "More than that, you helped to build peace between the people of Hanrahan and the Eldritch. Even if it was just for one night, you prevented countless tragedies. If people had fought and died inside the walls of Hanrahan, then for every person who lost their life, three seeds of hatred and vengeance would have been planted in the hearts of their loved ones."
"Youāve earned yourself more than a chance, Sir Hugo," Ashlynn said, giving Hugoās arm another gentle squeeze. "Youāve earned a place at my side as my Steward, and youāll keep it so long as you continue to demonstrate the sort of capability and character that you showed that night in Hanrahan."