Barlay Manwoody had his arms crossed across his chest, his unassuming light hair and brown eyes set in an unreadable expression. He was standing in the shadows of a balustrade, on a small platform overlooking a courtyard deep in the dark castle of Kingsgrave, where a small crowd had gathered to watch two boys spar. From the sound below, it was as if a small festival were taking place. Barlay led a casual and lively household, so he would never punish the servants no doubt exchanging bets between themselves below, but his own mood at this unexpected event was dark.
His eldest son, Axton, had a sturdy frame, and at the ripe age of 19 was proving himself to be quite good looking, with jet black hair and sharp features he had inherited from his mother without her slender frame and darker skin. But his dark eyes tended to reveal his heart, a heart Barlay had only ever been able to restrain, not change. Those dark eyes were currently single-mindedly trained on his opponent, filled with a rage Barlay didn’t have to see to know was there. That rage was mirrored in the eyes of his third son, as he towered over Axton, in all his 15 year old glory. Somehow, the boy hadn’t stopped growing since he turned 12, and he was still seeming to get used to the current length of his body, but unlike his other boys, who had seemed awkward in their bodies at that point, Kyne had taken on his unusual height with a fire in his blue-grey eyes (and an apparent determination to eat five times as much as a regular person to make up for his growth spurt).
For just a moment, those blue-grey eyes landed on him, the only person who seemed to notice Barlay was there watching at all, and the look in his eyes when he recognized him was a young man’s anger, the frustration that could only come with disappointed expectations in the world. He would have to ask the maids later what had happened. Those two had been at odds for years now, but it had never extended beyond tussling before today. It had to be something serious.
The sword wavered for a moment, as Kyne glared up at Barlay, and the snake that Axton was, sensed weakness and swung forward. Kyne immediately focused back in on the battle, whole body tensed like a coiling viper, as he countered his half-brother’s sword with his own. He was certainly not one to dodge, even when he was caught off-guard. The next swing was Kyne’s and just from looking at it, Barlay knew that it would be a heavy sword to take.
For a long while, the Lord of House Manwoody simply watched the two exchange blows, clearly seeing that his younger son had the upper hand. It did not take long for Kyne to have Axton on the floor, with the sword to his neck, but there he hesitated. He glared over at Barlay defiantly, but Barlay had never fought his children’s battles, even when he did know what they were about. Kyne looked back down and raised his sword, and it took all of Barlay’s willpower not to flinch with his whole body, but he did close his eyes for a second.
To his relief, in that moment, there was no sounds of screaming, no sickly shlick of sword meeting flesh. When he opened them again, the sword had been flung into the far wall, and Kyne was on his knees, punching Axton senseless over and over again, sweat dripping down his brow like tears. Turning on his heels, Barlay began to walk back into the castle, only to bump into his daughter Sara. She looked at him for a moment and he saw that she’d been crying, but she didn’t say anything and brushed past him to join her brothers. Whether to stop or encourage them, he did not know.