Kael wasn't pacing. Pacing was for people who felt things like fear and guilt.
He was casually repositioning.
At high speeds.
In a straight line.
Repeatedly.
To be fair, preparing to speak to Lord Azarel Vire wasn't like talking to a normal father. It wasn't even like talking to a war general or a knife instructor or the head of a magical death cult, although all of those would've been warmer experiences.
It was like walking into an interview where your potential employer had built you from scratch, resented your sentience, and had recently heard you might be "experimenting with failure."
He took one more slow breath, flicked a lintless speck from his collar, and stood still as the door behind him hissed open.
Lord Azarel Vire walked in like he owned the room. Because he did.
Everything about him screamed final authority—from the razor-straight cut of his robe sleeves to the fact that the air felt colder once he entered. His expression wasn't angry. It was worse.
It was analytical.
Kael had been raised to know that look meant someone is about to be erased from a bloodline registry.
Azarel stopped two paces away from Kael.
He didn't sit. He didn't smile. He didn't waste time.
"Explain," he said.
Kael blinked once, then cleared his throat.
"I lost."
"That is a fact, not an explanation."
Kael raised both eyebrows and tilted his head. "Well, you're right, but also, wow. You could really work on your delivery."
Azarel's stare didn't shift. "Do not waste my time with performance."
"Wouldn't dream of it," Kael muttered.
Azarel's tone sharpened. "You yielded. In front of witnesses. In a controlled match. Without attempting any known technique. Why?"
Kael gave a one-shouldered shrug. "Icarus was fast."
"He was not faster than you."
"He got lucky."
"He should not have been able to hit you."
Kael gave a breathy chuckle. "And yet, here we are."
Azarel's voice lowered. "You planned it."
Kael met his eyes. Calm. "Now we're getting somewhere."
Silence stretched between them.
Kael was good at silence. He could use it like a shield. A blade. A question left hanging.
Azarel broke it first.
"You're hiding something."
Kael leaned back slightly, letting his weight settle into a more relaxed posture. "If I said no, would you believe me?"
"No."
"Then why waste the breath?"
Azarel's gaze narrowed. "Are you ashamed of your weakness?"
Kael barked a short laugh. "No. I'm strategic about it."
Azarel's expression didn't change. But something behind his eyes shifted. Calculating.
"Then explain your strategy."
Kael smiled slightly. "Simple. I wanted them to look away."
Azarel didn't move. Didn't speak.
So Kael continued, voice steady now.
"You know how people treat the top predator? They test it. Hunt it. Try to break it, so they feel powerful when it finally bleeds."
He took a step forward. Measured. Not challenging. Just enough to break the stillness.
"But if you fall off the radar, if they start thinking you're… second-tier? Maybe slipping? They stop watching so closely. Stop preparing so hard."
Azarel was silent.
Kael's voice lowered.
"And in that breathing room, you can build something they don't see coming."
"You were not raised to fall," Azarel said finally.
"I didn't fall," Kael replied. "I leaned. Slightly. On purpose."
"You were raised to command," Azarel countered.
"And I still am. But if I have to put a leash on myself for now to survive long enough to win later… I'll do it."
Azarel tilted his head slightly. "Do you think I am disappointed?"
Kael gave a crooked grin. "I think if you were disappointed, you'd've already written me out of your will and added me to your list of Things That Need To Be Silenced Before Winter."
A flicker of something—maybe amusement? Or indigestion—passed across Azarel's face.
It was gone too quickly to tell.
"This Core instability," Azarel said. "You're allowing it."
Kael's posture shifted. Just a little. Defensive, but not retreating.
"I'm using it."
"You're using an unpredictable, multi-path glitch to experiment with magic that hasn't passed Council regulation."
Kael shrugged. "Some of the best ideas come from chaos. Isn't that how House Vire was founded?"
"House Vire was founded on control."
Kael's voice turned sharp. "And control is exactly what I'm gaining. Just not the way you designed it."
For a long moment, Azarel stared at him—not just with his eyes, but with everything Kael had ever feared as a child.
Judgment. Precision. Conditional affection.
"You're not the weapon I forged," Azarel said.
Kael's smile returned, cool and quiet. "Good. Weapons break. I'd rather be the one holding it."
Azarel studied him again. "You've changed."
"Not changed," Kael said, voice dropping to something colder. "Just upgraded."
Azarel stepped closer. "You're walking a fine line between progress and betrayal."
"I'm walking it better than anyone else in this House."
Azarel didn't react. But Kael saw the flicker in his posture—his father was listening now. Not just hearing. Listening.
So Kael gave him the final card.
"I don't want to embarrass the House. I don't want to fall. I'm not out here making a fool of myself. I'm playing a long game."
He paused.
"I'm just not playing by your script anymore."
The silence that followed was heavier than any shout could've been.
Finally, Azarel said, "If you are lying to me…"
Kael didn't miss a beat. "Then I'm doing it very well."
Azarel turned to leave, his robes trailing like a judge's verdict. At the doorway, he paused again.
"Next time you throw a match," he said, "make it look more believable."
"Next time," Kael said, "I'll win by losing better."
The door hissed shut.
Kael didn't move for three full seconds.
Then he exhaled slowly and dropped into the nearest seat like his knees had suddenly remembered they weren't made of steel.
[SYSTEM ALERT: You have survived a Tier-1 Parental Interrogation.][+4 Charisma, +1 Lord Vire Doubt, +5 Psychological Fatigue]
Kael rubbed his face with both hands and muttered, "I deserve cake."
[You deserve surveillance.]
"You think he bought it?"
[Define "bought." He is currently reviewing combat data, psychic logs, and your blood pressure levels.]
"So… maybe?"
[You are alive. That is enough.]
Kael leaned back, stared at the ceiling, and smiled faintly.
"Still undefeated."