Theo looked confused, his voice carrying genuine bewilderment.
He didn’t understand the question, didn’t see the problem.
“Why?” “Aren’t the guards supposed to be the good guys?” “They are.” “Then why are you running from them?” Theo thought for a moment, the silence stretching between them.
Garrett could practically hear the boy’s brain working, turning the question over like a puzzle piece.
“…Because that’s how you win.” Garrett wasn’t sure whether to laugh or be concerned.
“Do you dislike guards?” Theo shook his head, his voice firm and certain.
“No.” “I think being a knight is cooler.” That…
Made more sense.
He could understand that.
Knights were noble, honorable, respected.
They protected people, fought for justice, stood against evil.
It was a worthy aspiration for a young boy, far better than running from the law.
“Were you a knight, Mister?” Garrett paused.
“When I found you,” Theo continued, his voice softening, “you were wearing really big armor.
Just like the armor Syly tells me about.
It had a symbol on it, but I didn’t recognize it.
Syly said it looked important.” His armor.
The ducal armor.
The crest of his family had been engraved into every piece.
The sigil of House Harrington, the wolf and the sword, was unmistakable to anyone who knew heraldry.
It had taken his ancestors generations to build that legacy, to earn that symbol.
A family’s worth, emblazoned in steel.
Fortunately, Theo hadn’t recognized it.
He was just a child from the mountain.
He wouldn’t know noble crests from common decorations.
To him, it was just a pretty design, nothing more.
But that omega was suspicious.
How did he know the symbol was important?
“…Yes,” Garrett answered.
“I was.” Theo gasped, his voice rising with excitement.
Garrett could hear him bouncing on his heels, practically vibrating with joy.
“Really?” “I was knighted when I was young.” It was true.
He’d received his knighthood at sixteen, years before he inherited the dukedom.
He’d earned it on the battlefield, through blood and steel and sacrifice.
He’d bled for that title, fought for that honor.
Theo leaned forward so quickly Garrett could almost hear the excitement radiating from him.
The boy’s voice was breathless, tumbling over itself with enthusiasm.
“What was it like?” Garrett smiled faintly, a rare expression that softened his features.
It felt strange on his face, foreign after so long.
“What do you want to know?” Theo didn’t hesitate.
“How did you become a knight?” “Was it always your dream?” “Were you scared?” “Did you fight monsters?” “Did you save people?” The questions came so quickly Garrett barely had time to answer them.
Theo wanted to know everything, to understand every moment.
Still…
He answered every single one.
He told Theo about his training.
About the grueling hours of sword practice, the blisters on his hands, the bruises on his body.
About the weight of the armor, the heat of the sun, the cold of the rain.
He remembered those days clearly—the exhaustion, the pain, the determination.
He told him about learning to use a sword.
About the first time he’d held a blade, the way it had felt both foreign and familiar in his grip.
How it had become an extension of his arm over time, a part of him.
He told him about battles.
About the chaos of the battlefield, the clash of steel, the cries of the wounded.
About the courage it took to stand your ground, to fight even when you were terrified.
The smell of blood, the taste of fear.
He told him about protecting his people.
About the weight of responsibility, the burden of leadership.
About the sleepless nights and the impossible decisions.
He conveniently left out the fact that he was a duke.
That was a conversation for another time.
Theo listened with complete fascination, his silence a testament to his engagement.
Every few minutes he’d interrupt with another question before eagerly waiting for the answer.
Without realizing it…
Garrett found himself enjoying the conversation.
He’d forgotten what it was like to talk without politics, without calculating every word.
Theo was honest in a way that adults never were.
He asked questions because he genuinely wanted to know, not because he was probing for weaknesses or gathering information.
It was refreshing.
A reminder of simpler times.
“I see you two are getting along.” The omega’s lazy voice drifted into the room, carrying a note of dry amusement.
Garrett’s body tensed instinctively at the sound.
Garrett turned toward it immediately.
He was back.
“Syly!” Theo jumped to his feet and ran straight into the omega’s arms.
His footsteps pounded across the floor, then stopped as he collided with the omega.
Garrett could hear the soft thud of impact.
“You know what?” “Mister is a knight!” “A knight?” The omega repeated.
Somehow…
He managed to make a single word sound insulting.
His voice dripped with skepticism, with barely concealed mockery.
“Yep!” Theo nodded enthusiastically, his voice bright with pride.
He was beaming, Garrett could tell.
“Mister has fought on huge battlefields!” “Really?” Syly asked.
His voice carried absolutely no interest whatsoever.
It was flat, dismissive, as though Theo had just told him something deeply unimpressive.
“Mister fought demons and evil people!” Theo continued excitedly before turning back toward Garrett.
“Right, Mister?” Garrett blinked.
He hadn’t said that.
Well…
Not exactly.
He had fought demons.
He had fought criminals.
But certainly not the way Theo seemed to imagine it.
The boy had embellished, turned his stories into something grander, more heroic.
A child’s imagination running wild.
“Wow.” Syly folded his arms dramatically.
“So you’re telling me our mysterious guest fought hundreds of demons and evil humans all by himself?” “I didn’t say—” “Yes!” Theo interrupted, completely missing Garrett’s attempt to correct him.
His voice was triumphant, thrilled.
“That’s why Mister is so strong!” Syly nodded with exaggerated seriousness, his voice heavy with mockery.
“I see.” “So we’ve been sheltering the greatest knight in the entire kingdom.” Garrett opened his mouth again.
“I—” “How fortunate.” Syly smiled.
Garrett could hear it in his voice, that infuriating smirk.
“I suppose we should start bowing every time you enter the room.” Garrett closed his mouth.
Somehow…
Playing Serpents and Ladders suddenly didn’t seem so bad after all.
At least the board game didn’t mock him.