Ludger’s face went flat.
He had seen enough signs already to know the blow was coming. This was just confirmation. Still, that didn’t make it any less irritating to hear it spoken aloud. Arslan leaned back a little more in the saddle, all false innocence and very real amusement.
“So what is it?” he asked. “Are you really that busy…” He let the pause drag out just enough to make it worse. “Or do you need a few pointers from your old man?”
Ludger let out a slow breath through his nose and turned his gaze toward the horizon.
The road stretched ahead in long pale lines under the afternoon light. Fields. Distant trees. A few travelers farther off. All of it looked far more peaceful than the conversation beside him.
He genuinely wondered how he was supposed to make his father drop the topic.
Ignoring him wouldn’t work. Arslan would just keep going, encouraged by the lack of a proper reaction. A direct answer wouldn’t help either. If he denied interest, his father would pry. If he admitted being too busy, his father would take that as an opening to offer advice he absolutely did not need. And if he told him to shut up, that would only amuse him.
In other words, this was one of those conversations where every available path led to more conversation. Truly irritating. Arslan, of course, mistook Ludger’s silence for an opportunity.
“I’m just saying,” he continued, sounding entirely too pleased with himself, “with your face, your position, your talent, and all these rumors going around about you, it’s honestly strange. When I was your age…”
Ludger didn’t even look at him. “That’s exactly the problem.”
Arslan blinked once. Then he laughed. A full laugh, not even trying to hide it.
“That bad, huh?”
Ludger kept looking ahead, expression unmoving. “You are the worst possible example you could use to make this sound appealing.”
That only made Arslan laugh harder. For a few seconds, the only sounds were the runic engine, wind, and one man finding himself much funnier than he deserved to be.
When Arslan finally settled down, there was still a grin lingering on his face. “You say that now, but one day you’ll appreciate this kind of wisdom.”
Ludger’s eyes shifted slightly, not enough to meet his father’s gaze. “No. I’m fairly certain I won’t.”
Arslan clicked his tongue. “Too cold.”
“No,” Ludger said. “Just logical.”
That answer came easily. Because it was true.
His life was already crowded with things that actually mattered. The guild. Lionfang. expansion. Labyrinths. Armandis. the Empire’s hidden rot. Trade routes. Production chains. The dryads. The future shape of power in the borderlands. Even his personal training wasn’t simple anymore, not when every new step risked either serious growth or serious damage.
Compared to all that, chasing women around because he had reached an appropriate age felt absurd. Not incomprehensible. Just inefficient. And, more importantly, exhausting.
Arslan glanced at him again, this time with a little more curiosity beneath the amusement. “So you really are just too busy.”
Ludger considered answering, then decided the truth was slightly more complicated than that. Busy, yes. But it wasn’t only that.
He simply didn’t have much interest in wasting time on shallow nonsense. And given the example sitting beside him, the idea of blundering into messy personal history for the sake of temporary amusement looked less like romance and more like a cautionary tale.
Unfortunately, saying that out loud would probably restart the entire conversation in an even worse direction. So instead, he sighed. It wasn’t dramatic. Just the sound of a person realizing he had somehow survived labyrinths, conspiracies, and economic warfare only to be cornered by his father into discussing women on an open road.
Then he kept his eyes on the horizon and wondered, with increasing seriousness, how exactly he was supposed to end this topic before Arslan decided to get more detailed. Arslan’s grin didn’t fade. In fact, it shifted into something worse.
More thoughtful. More dangerous.
“You are getting along pretty well with Eclaire,” he said.
Ludger’s expression did not change, but only because he had enough self-control not to let irritation show too early. Arslan continued as if he hadn’t noticed.
“And despite her situation,” he said, “if there’s someone who could make something work with her, it would probably be you.”
That made Ludger finally glance at him.
Arslan shrugged one shoulder. “You’re both difficult. Both calm in your own ways. Both too used to thinking three steps ahead. She wouldn’t bore you, and you wouldn’t scare her off easily.”
Then his mouth twitched.
“Of course, you’d also need to prepare for half the Empire deciding you’re trying to take it over.”
Ludger stared at him for a second. “What?”
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Arslan let out a short laugh. “Come on. A rising border guild. Your current reputation. Eclaire’s bloodline. You really think people wouldn’t start making up stories?” He waved a hand lazily. “They’d be saying you were building influence through trade, strength, and marriage before the first week ended.”
Ludger’s face went flat again.
“They only work with each other because their interests happen to align,” he said. “That’s all.”
Arslan looked unconvinced.
“There’s nothing between us.”
That part came a little more firmly.
Then Ludger added, in the same dry tone, “You should also explain that to Viola.”
Arslan blinked. “Viola?”
“She’s already suspicious enough as it is,” Ludger said. “At this point, I’m not sure whether she just dislikes Eclaire in general or if she has some strange idea that I’m not allowed to have a girlfriend before Lucius comes back.”
Arslan stared at him for a moment. Then a laugh escaped him before he could stop it. Ludger looked even less pleased.
“With mother already in my life,” he continued, “I have more than enough meddling in that aspect of my life.”
That made Arslan laugh harder. Not because the situation was especially funny. Just because the way Ludger said it made it sound like romantic interest was some kind of logistical burden being forced onto him by the women around him. Which, in his case, was probably not far from the truth.
Arslan shook his head as he settled down. “That is an incredibly tragic way to describe it.”
“It’s accurate.”
Ludger looked ahead again, clearly deciding that engaging further would only encourage him. Unfortunately, Arslan wasn’t finished.
“Still,” he said, “you really don’t see it?”
Ludger’s eyes narrowed slightly. “See what?”
“That Eclaire trusts you more than most people.”
“That isn’t the same thing.”
“No,” Arslan admitted. “It isn’t.”
For once, his tone carried a little less teasing under it.
“But those things don’t always stay separate.”
Ludger said nothing. Not because he was thinking seriously about it. Mostly because the conversation was irritating enough already without giving it more material. After a few seconds, he just sighed.
Longer this time. The kind of sigh that suggested he was wondering whether fighting monsters might genuinely be less troublesome than talking to his father about women. Arslan glanced at him, amusement returning immediately.
“You know,” he said, “for someone so smart, you really do become stubborn when the topic shifts away from war, trade, and murder.”
Ludger didn’t even look at him. “I learned from the best possible example of what not to do.”
That got another laugh out of Arslan. And despite himself, Ludger already knew this topic was not going away anytime soon. Arslan let out a breath, as if trying to recover at least a little ground after the Eclaire discussion.
“Honestly,” he said, “you’ll probably choose the right person when the time comes. You’re too serious not to. Too much like your mother in that regard.”
Ludger glanced at him from the side, suspicious now. Arslan kept going anyway.
“So just do me one favor,” he said. “Tell me you never once considered Kaela. Give me that much peace of mind.”
Ludger’s expression flattened immediately.
“My brain hasn’t melted that far yet.”
Arslan sagged in visible relief.
“Good.”
The answer came with enough sincerity to make it clear that this was apparently a genuine concern he had been carrying around for some reason. Ludger decided not to ask why. There were some conversations that only got worse the more room they were given.
Unfortunately, Arslan still wasn’t done. His expression shifted after a second, the relief fading into something more complicated.
“Whatever happens,” he said, “don’t do anything foolish during the negotiations.”
Ludger frowned slightly. “What do you mean by that?”
Arslan looked ahead at the road for a moment before answering.
“I heard Maris has a daughter,” he said. “One year older than you.”
Ludger waited a beat.
Then he asked, perfectly flat, “What about it?”
Arslan’s face took on the kind of expression people made when they were trying to choose their next words very carefully and already regretted that they had to say them at all.
He opened his mouth. Closed it again. Then looked briefly toward the horizon, as if maybe the road itself would provide a better explanation than he could. Ludger stayed silent, waiting. That somehow made it worse. Because being watched by his son with that quiet, unreadable expression had a way of making every sentence feel more ridiculous before it was even spoken.
Arslan rubbed at his jaw.
“It means,” he said slowly, “that you should keep your head clear.”
Ludger’s eyes narrowed a fraction. “That explains nothing.”
Arslan grimaced.
“I’m trying to say this in a way that doesn’t make me sound insane.”
“That effort is failing.”
Arslan shot him a flat look, then exhaled through his nose. Arslan stayed quiet for a while after that, like he was still debating with himself whether continuing this conversation was worth the damage it would probably do to his dignity.
Eventually, he sighed.
“When I first met Maris,” he said, “I had this feeling that made me think I absolutely had to sleep with her.”
He said it with the tone of a man trying very hard to sound wiser than the actual content of the sentence allowed. Then, perhaps realizing how bad that sounded, he immediately started talking again.
“It wasn’t just that,” he said. “She had a presence. A way of looking at people like she already knew which of their weaknesses annoyed her most. Strong posture. Sharp tongue. Confident. Dangerous in that way that makes you want to—”
Ludger listened in silence as his father kept circling around the point, throwing in words like charisma, presence, intensity, and a certain type of overwhelming femininity in what was very clearly a doomed attempt not to sound superficial.
Eventually, the pattern became too obvious to ignore.
“So,” Ludger said flatly, “she had big boobs.”
Arslan looked at him in open offense.
“Why,” he demanded, “did you have to be that blunt when I was trying so hard not to say it like that?”
Ludger facepalmed. Actually facepalmed. Not because he lacked an answer. Because hearing his father struggle heroically and fail to disguise something that simple had physically offended his patience.
“There are things more important in life than that,” he said.
Arslan clicked his tongue. “I’m just saying.”
“No. You’re not.”
“I am,” Arslan insisted, completely undeterred. “I’m warning you too, since you’re my son and all.”