novelraw Chapter 17 : Whispers in the Halls
Chapter 17 : Whispers in the Halls
For a short while, the house was filled only with joy.
Selene glowed as she cradled the baby, humming softly even as exhaustion clung to her every breath. Darius walked the halls with pride, his voice booming again as he announced to the household, “The Valemont name lives on!”
Elara, home briefly from the academy, nearly crushed me in a hug when she heard. “We have a brother, Rooga! I’ll protect him just like I protect you!”
The halls rang with laughter and new life.
But outside the estate walls, other voices stirred.
In noble courts and smoky taverns, whispers passed from mouth to mouth:
“Another child for the Valemonts.”
“Even as their star dims, their line grows stronger.”
“Darius is weaker now, cursed perhaps… it may be time.”
Schemes brewed in shadow, plans drafted on parchment with careful ink. Ambition sharpened knives, and greed watched patiently.
But even the boldest whispers ended the same way:
“…Don’t touch the children.”
A hush always followed. Then someone would add, voice trembling:
“She’ll kill you.”
Everyone knew. Selene Valemont—the Archmage who shattered armies, the woman who erased a noble house in a single night.
If anyone dared to harm her children, her fury would not end at a man, or a family. It would consume an entire bloodline.
So the nobles looked elsewhere. They aimed at Darius’ weakness. They aimed at Valemont’s standing. They aimed at politics, at betrayal, at rot.
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But never at the children.
The children were sacred, untouchable—not out of respect, but out of fear.
I didn’t know these whispers yet, not fully. I only felt the tension in the air. Servants moved nervously. Letters arrived in thicker stacks. Father read them late into the night, his jaw tight.
And sometimes, when I caught Mama staring into the distance while rocking my new brother, her eyes held the same fire I’d seen once before—the fire that had crushed a noble into the ground until his body burst.
She would protect us.
Of that, I had no doubt.
But even a lioness cannot guard her den from every storm.
The baby cried a lot.
Day and night. In the halls. At the table. Even during Mama’s naps. His lungs were small, but they could shake the whole house.
The servants rushed whenever he wailed, but I was always the first to waddle over.
Sometimes I’d just stare, not knowing what to do. Sometimes I’d pat his blanket with my tiny hand, whispering nonsense.
And sometimes, when Mama was too tired to lift him, I’d sit by the crib and hold his hand in mine.
His fingers were so small. So fragile. But the way they curled around me, gripping tight—it was like he trusted me completely.
The HUD flickered faintly whenever that happened:
[Protective Instinct – Strengthened.]
[Bond: Younger Brother (active).]
I didn’t need a notification to know it. He was my responsibility now.
One afternoon, Mama was resting, and the baby began crying again. I puffed my cheeks. “Shhh. Mama sleep.”
The maids hesitated, unsure whether to intervene. Selene’s temper was legendary, but so was her tenderness. If they disturbed her rest, they’d risk her wrath. If they let the baby cry, they’d risk it too.
So, all eyes turned to me.
I frowned, thinking hard. Then I grabbed my wooden blocks, stacking them beside the crib. “Look, tower!”
The baby blinked at it through teary eyes. I knocked the tower over. Clack!
He hiccupped. Then giggled.
I grinned, clapping my hands. “Tower go boom!”
Another giggle. The maids gasped like I’d just cast a miracle spell.
From then on, whenever my little brother cried, I’d invent new ways to calm him. Rocking him by tugging the crib with all my might.
Making funny faces until my cheeks hurt. Once, I even tried to cast a spark in my palm—only to panic when it fizzled too close to his blanket.
Mama caught me that time. She smiled, kissed my forehead, and whispered, “No fire near the baby, Rooga.”
I nodded furiously, cheeks burning.
It wasn’t easy being a big brother. But every time that tiny hand clutched mine, every time those eyes looked up at me with blind trust, I felt it.
The weight of being needed.
And it wasn’t heavy at all.
It was the lightest burden I’d ever carried.