Chapter 9 – Stone, Wind, and Responsibility

  I walk toward the courtyard with determined steps. Upon arrival, I find five guards already lined up, armed and in uniform, each with the firm posture of those who understand the weight of the moment. The captain of the guard, a veteran with a weathered face, steps forward and bows slightly.

  “Ready to accompany you on the wall inspection, sir. Patrols have been reinforced in recent days, as requested.”

  “Let’s go.”

  “Yes, sir!” they respond in unison.

  We proceed in silence through the inner gates, heading toward the wall that encircles Verdelume. The rhythmic sound of our boots echoes against the packed ground and stone pathway. Upon reaching the base of the structure, the captain gestures confidently toward the access stairs.

  “We’ll begin with the eastern wing, where recent maintenance was performed.”

  I climb the stone steps, feeling the soft wind brush my face. As soon as I reach the top, the vastness around me opens — green fields, distant woods, and life rising on the horizon. The captain approaches and points out the reinforced areas.

  “Here, on the east wing, we repaired the cracks caused by the last storm. The towers are under constant watch. No threats have been detected nearby, but we’ve doubled patrols in the northern region, where bandit activity is more common.”

  I examine the structure closely, testing the stone’s firmness with my fingers and observing the placement of the sentinels. Everything appears as expected — solid, functional, prepared.

  “Excellent.”

  The captain smiles, visibly pleased by my approval. He steps forward, ready to continue the inspection.

  “The north wing now, sir? With the recent reinforcements, security has tripled over the last few weeks.”

  The escort moves to the other side of the wall under the slowly rising sun. As we advance, the observation towers stand out in the distance, well-positioned, offering a wide field of view. Reaching the northern wing, I notice the strategic points of the terrain. The captain gestures toward a nearby elevation, covered with dense shrubs and a partially hidden clearing.

  “This is our main patrol focus. There have been suspicious movements in the woods recently. To prevent ambushes, we’ve secured the area and maintain a constant rotation of sentinels. Vigilance is strong.”

  I pause for a moment to observe. The positioning of the towers offers ample visibility, and the guards remain disciplined and alert. Based on recent activity and the known behavior of groups that attempt incursions, I implemented a reinforced communication system, using a mobile scout network between towers and outposts. A direct channel to the mansion was the missing solution — fast, secure, and decentralized. Every anomaly is reported precisely, without relying on slow messenger chains or stacks of paperwork. I chose this model after realizing that alerts were arriving too late for effective action.

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  “Good. Keep the reports coming daily to the mansion. Any anomalies, report to me directly.”

  “Understood, sir. All reports will be sent as instructed. Any irregularities will be communicated immediately.”

  He bows slightly, attentive to the order. The other guards return to their posts, and I linger for a few more moments, watching the wall. The sense of control over the duchy’s security strengthens me — each stone in place, each watchman ready.

  “Is the emissary’s visit approaching?”

  “Yes, sir. He should arrive in a few hours. The reception committee is already organized. Everything is being prepared to ensure a proper welcome.”

  The anticipation settles in. Even amid calm, the weight of responsibility hangs like a dense breeze. Everything must be perfect.

  “Very well. Good work. Let’s go, Joana.”

  Joana follows with brisk steps, satisfied with the inspection's outcome. She watches me, awaiting further instructions.

  “Sir, when the emissary arrives, shall I handle the administrative matters, or is there anything more specific you’d like to address?”

  “Thank you, Joana. Nothing specific. Let’s wait in my office.”

  She nods in acknowledgment, and we make our way to my office. The atmosphere is quiet, welcoming, lit by the gentle light streaming through the windows. Sitting down, I watch as Joana naturally organizes the papers.

  The wait becomes a pause — the distant sounds of the mansion, time passing slowly, the world turning around our preparation.

  “How are your father and mother, Joana?”

  She smiles faintly, her gaze softening.

  “My father is well, sir. Still working in city trade. My mother’s also fine, taking care of the house. She sometimes worries about the duchy’s situation but always tells me to focus on my responsibilities here.”

  There’s something in her eyes — perhaps a touch of longing mixed with the strength she carries.

  “Your mother worries about the duchy? Why exactly?”

  Joana hesitates for a moment, lightly touching the papers on the table with her fingertips.

  “She worries about... the future. She says times are changing and that the duchy needs more than military strength. It takes wisdom to deal with the people, with merchants, and with diplomacy. She has a broader view of things, while my father is more direct, focused on business.”

  “She sounds intelligent.”

  Joana smiles, a faint light in her face.

  “She is, sir. She always taught me to be observant, to look beyond appearances. She says it’s important to know how the duchy is perceived from the outside — that we must hold our position with grace and wisdom, not just with power. I think she would be glad to speak with you, if you permit it.”

  “Makes sense that you’re intelligent. Send her my regards. Now, the emissary must be arriving soon.”

  She nods with a quiet smile.

  “Certainly, sir. I’ll do that.”

  She rises and walks to the window. Silence returns, broken only by her soft footsteps and the calm rhythm of my breathing as I sip my tea.

  The infusion is smooth and warm, its aroma filling the room. Time seems to slow — not from inertia, but from the contained tension of anticipation. Joana watches from the window, returns to the desk, and finally approaches with a resolute look.

  “The emissary has arrived, sir. He’s waiting at the entrance.”

  “Let’s go.”

  I stand, adjust my cloak slightly, and walk beside Joana toward the meeting. Duty does not wait, and the eyes of Verdelume are fixed on my every move from this point forward.