Chapter 528: Price of Victory
The Gale manor had the entire south wing dedicated to their infirmary. As a martial House sworn to the mastery of the blade, the infirmary took care of many aspiring swordmasters and their numerous injuries throughout the year. Stryg had been here on more than one occasion with Clypeus after a bout of sparring with his older sister, Gale.
The Veres would also be taken to the infirmary if they were ever injured. Both the Veres and Gale manors stood proudly next to each other, with only their gardens serving as a barrier. The Houses had been bonded by blood and loyalty for the last thousand years and neither family would have it any other way.
Stryg had always admired their loyalty to one another. They were a tribe like no other, forged through fires of countless battles and sacrifices. He had always wanted to be a part of the Gales, to have such shared camaraderie, though he had never told anyone.
And now as he sat in one such infirmary room, with clean swept floors and pale beige walls, he was reminded once more that he wasn’t one of them. He glanced at the scarlet blade resting on a sword rack in the corner of the room.
Leave it to the Gales to have a sword rack in every room, he thought wryly.
A plate of food sat untouched on the small table next to his chair. Usually, a servant would bring the food to the room at the regular meal times, but it was one of the Gales themselves —Willow was her name, he thought— who came to the room in the middle of the night and asked if there was anything he wanted to eat.
He had declined, but she had brought him food and a glass of bloodwine anyway. Her brother, Stellan, had stopped by and gently reminded him that they had prepared a room for him in the private apartments of the north wing.
Stryg had declined once more. Like Willow, Stellan had left with a bow and a polite ‘Goodnight, my lord.’
My lord.