CHAPTER 532: THE PERSON THAT YOU ARE

"I haven’t forgotten, Sister. No matter what the situation is, I should not lose myself. I am who I am, and I am the master of my fate." Sandoz said solemnly.

"Your great grandpa said the you remind him of your father when he was young," Lara added after a pause, smiling faintly. "He had that same furrow between his brows, the same habit of worrying for everyone else. But he learned, slowly, that being strong isn’t about never being afraid. It’s about doing what’s right even when fear is still there."

The wind rustled through the Narra leaves, carrying her words like a whisper across the garden.

"But still, even if your father’s blood run in your veins, even if you share the same traits, you are still you and your father is still the person that he is. You should always remember that."

"I just... don’t want to disappoint anyone," Sandoz murmured, his voice small again.

Lara leaned in and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him gently into her embrace. "Then start by not disappointing yourself," she said softly. "Live honestly. Train when you must, play when you must, rest when you can, laugh when your heart wants to. That’s what will make you a true heir — not duty, not discipline, but heart."

Sandoz’s small hands clutched the fabric of her sleeve. For the first time in a long while, he allowed himself to cry. Silent tears soaked into her tunic as his body trembled, the dam of restraint finally breaking.

Lara held him without a word — no lectures, no commands. Just quiet understanding.

When the tears finally subsided, Sandoz pulled back, wiping his face roughly with his sleeve. "You won’t tell the others I cried, right?" he asked, half embarrassed, half hopeful.

Lara chuckled softly. "Of course not. A warrior’s tears are sacred — I’ll keep them secret."

That earned a small laugh from him, thin but genuine.

"Come on," she said, standing and offering her hand. "Let’s pack. The others are waiting."

Sandoz hesitated, then slipped his hand into hers. As they walked back toward the manor, his steps felt lighter. The name Arces still rested on his shoulders — but for the first time, it no longer felt like a chain. It felt like a promise.

The sun had dipped lower by the time Lara and Sandoz returned to the entrance of the Mendel Manor. The air was thick with the scent of the blooms from the garden at the side — the hour when light turns golden and the world seems to hold its breath.

Reya was helping Ivan and Ivy settle into the carriage while Pamela clutched her small bag, watching the gate with expectant eyes. The horses stamped their hooves impatiently, snorting clouds of warm breath into the cooling air.

When they saw Sandoz approaching, Pamela’s face brightened."I thought you aren’t coming!" she exclaimed.

Sandoz offered a small smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes but came close. "I had to say goodbye properly."

Lara gave him an approving glance before her gaze shifted toward the far side of the courtyard — where the man in white robe stood, watching them from the shadows beneath the tree. His hair was streaked with white his posture rigid as a drawn blade, despite his age.

"Master, why don’t you come out and send the children off." Lara did not shout but her voice was loud enough for Jethru to hear.

The old master’s gaze softened briefly as Sandoz approached.

"So, you’ve made your decision," he said, his voice deep and steady, betraying no emotion.

"Yes, Master," Sandoz replied, bowing slightly. "I’ll continue my training at Helian Manor, these two days."

Jethru’s brows furrowed. "Helian Manor is not a place for just play. Do not think your duties end with distance."

"I understand," Sandoz said, his tone more certain than Lara expected.

Lara stepped forward, inclining her head respectfully, but she rolled her eyes, "I will personally oversee his training, Master. He won’t falter under my watch."

For a long moment, Jethru’s eyes lingered on her — assessing, weighing. When he saw her frown in disapproval, his lips twitched. He thought that he had spoiled her too much that she became too comfortable with him.

In the end, he nodded once. "See that he doesn’t." His gaze turned back to Sandoz. "Remember who you are, boy. But remember also that strength is not just in muscle — it is in restraint."

Sandoz bowed deeper this time. "Yes, Master."

Ivan and Ivy climbed down the carriage and gave their grandfather a big hug.

"Don’t miss us too much, Grandpa. We will be back before you know it. Take care of Great Grandpa Samuel." The twins said at the same time.

The old man’s hand twitched — almost as if he wanted to place it on the twins’ shoulders — but he stopped himself and turned away. "Go," he said curtly, disappearing into the hall’s shadows.

Lara watched him leave, her lips curling into a faint, knowing smile. Even the strictest walls have cracks of affection. But of course, the twins were her master’s greatest treasures.

"Come on," she said, motioning to the carriage.

Sandoz climbed in, settling beside Ivan and Ivy. Pamela immediately began chatting about how she’d saved her last honey bun for the trip, offering him half without hesitation. For a heartbeat, Sandoz just stared at her — then, shyly, he took it.

Lara mounted the front bench beside the coachman, glancing back once. Through the open window, she saw Sandoz laughing — a quiet, genuine sound. It was small, almost fragile, but it was there.

She realized that Sandoz had changed at lot. He was no longer the carefree and cheerful child from the time when they were in the mountain. He became more reserved and acting like the way nobles did. She sighed. She could not be with him always but she would try to bring back the child’s laughter into his world whenever she could.

The carriage lurched forward. The wheels groaned over gravel as the manor gates creaked open, revealing the long road ahead — winding through the orchards, past the lined trees of the main avenue to Helian.

As they passed beneath the arched gate, Sandoz turned back to look at the manor one last time. The afternoon light painted its stone walls in gold and amber.

"Goodbye, Master," he whispered under his breath. "I’ll make you proud... but I’ll live, too."

Lara heard the faint murmur and smiled to herself, eyes on the road.

The path stretched wide before them — a road of cobble stones and promise, of lessons yet to be learned and burdens yet to be shared.

For Sandoz, it was the first time the world felt bigger than his duty. And for Lara, watching him from the front seat, it was enough to know that the boy who grew up with her but burdened by his duty was beginning to carry hope again.