Chapter 514: Crazy Man.
The office of the Red House had a peculiar kind of stillness that pressed against the bones. Light filtered through the stained glass in muted stripes, throwing the desk and its scattered reports into sharp contrast with the dim corners of the room. Commander Strut remained standing near the window, his gaze distant, yet every sense taut as a bowstring. Lyon had settled into the chair opposite him, and there was no urgency in the way he sat. There had never been urgency in Lyon’s approach, and yet every presence he carried demanded attention.
Strut turned slowly, his eyes meeting Lyon’s. "You do not sit like a man who has come for advice," he said quietly. "You sit like a man who already knows what will be done."
Lyon’s grin widened just slightly, enough to acknowledge the observation without conceding its weight. "Perhaps," he said. "I prefer to see outcomes rather than wait for councils to form around me." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the arms of the chair. His gaze flicked briefly to the reports scattered across Strut’s desk, and then he returned his attention to the Commander. "Giel, the child I have sent on his errand—he is capable. I am certain of it. I only wish to see how far he can bend before he either breaks or transforms."
Strut’s jaw tightened. He crossed the room and picked up a pen from the edge of the desk, rolling it between his fingers, feeling its familiar weight. The act was mechanical, but it gave him a measure of focus. "I do not intend to allow him to be broken," he said. "He is not yours to endanger."
Lyon’s eyes lifted, curious and amused. "I do not wish to endanger him. Only to observe. This mission will tell us much about the boy’s resilience, about how he perceives limits, and whether he has the fortitude to survive under conditions that are... less than forgiving." He inclined his head slightly. "You will not be required to intervene, unless it is unavoidable. That is understood."
Strut’s lips pressed together. He studied Lyon carefully, noting the calm precision in his posture, the way his hands rested lightly yet deliberately on the armrests. Lyon always presented ease, yet everything about him carried the weight of control. There was nothing accidental in his presence, and nothing innocent in the timing of his visit. Strut had learned long ago that Lyon’s calm demeanor was a blade sheathed in charm.
"You are not leaving the child entirely unobserved," Strut said. "I will need to know the parameters of what he is sent to fetch."
Lyon’s eyes glimmered faintly, a spark of amusement passing through them. "You wish to know where he is going," Lyon said, "but not how he will proceed. You want assurance, and yet you will not have it. This is consistent with your nature, Commander." He leaned back slightly, letting the chair creak under the shift of weight. "I have designed the errand to test patience, perception, and survival instinct. The specifics are unnecessary for you to know. Your part will come after the child returns, assuming he does so intact."
Strut’s gaze hardened. "If he does not return intact, Lyon," he said slowly, "there will be consequences."
Lyon’s expression did not change. "Of course. But the boy has promise. He has survived worse than I could provide. He is... adaptable."