Meanwhile, master Raleigh hovered beside Aiden, eager to impress. "You'll find our students exceptionally disciplined," he gushed, gesturing toward the school building. But Aiden's eyes wandered, scanning the courtyard for something more meaningful than ceremony.

  Then his gaze landed on Robert, standing with his cane. In that moment, Aiden's rigid posture softened. Abruptly, he ended his conversation with Master Raleigh and strode forward, the wind parting around him. Raleigh and Mistress Helia exchanged horrified looks—this was precisely what they had sought to avoid! "Master Aiden, if you'll just—" Helia began, her stiff smile faltering.

  Stopping in front of Robert, Aiden offered a deep, respectful bow. Though barely seventeen, his voice carried a measured weight. "Excuse me, sir, but are you by chance Robert Darnaval?"

  Before Robert could respond, Master Raleigh and Mistress Helia rushed forward, eager to regain control. "Yes, that's him," Mistress Helia interjected with a stiff smile. "He's our local blacksmith, though he has—ah—recently removed his children from our school. But if you'll come this way, Master Aiden..."

  She gestured toward the main building, plainly hoping to steer the envoy away from any unscripted conversation with the rugged ex-soldier. Aiden's gaze lingered on Robert another moment, curiosity flickering in his eyes, before allowing himself to be led toward the carefully prepared welcome.

  Aiden's eyes widened with a mixture of awe and certainty. "Then you're him? Il Titano di Peitra -The Titan of Stone?"

  Titles long buried stirred Robert's scarred features—a flicker of surprise, then faint chagrin. "That was ages past," he said gruffly.

  Aiden squared his shoulders, brushing back wind-tossed hair. "I've studied your battles—Redwood Pass, Blackheath siege, Southern Coast. My father, Ardan, swears you saved his life."

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  Robert allowed himself a wry nod. "Having saved mine it seemed only right to return the favor."

  Aiden's laugh rang out, bright against the crowd's tense hush. Raleigh stiffened, Helia's dismay widening—this wasn't their script. "Sir Aiden, there's much to show you," Raleigh urged, voice taut.

  But Aiden's attention remained on Robert, his gaze steady, intent. "It seems I must go," he admitted at last, "but I would consider it a great privilege to call upon you later."

  "Your servant", Robert replied.

  With a final, respectful nod, he turned, allowing the flustered teachers to usher him toward the schoolhouse.

  The moment he disappeared inside, a hush fell upon the courtyard, thick with unspoken thoughts. Slowly, the villagers began to disperse, yet something in their demeanor had shifted. Where once there had been wary glances and hushed doubts, there were now cautious acknowledgments. Mothers who had hastened their children away from the blacksmith now offered small, measured nods. Farmers who had spoken only in whispers now tipped their hats, or inquired if he required anything for his forge. None voiced it outright, but all had witnessed the envoy bow before Robert and speak his name with reverence.

  Robert felt the change like a ripple in the air. The whispers reached him—murmurs that he was not merely a reclusive ex-soldier, nor a man who had defied convention by removing his sons from the school. He was, once more, The Titan of Stone. A legend, acknowledged by the Gale-Warden family.

  Michael and Leon, standing beside him, sensed it too. The weight of old perceptions shifting. They met each other's gaze, bemused, a quiet pride flickering beneath their astonishment.

  "Come," Robert said, his voice as gruff as ever, though a hint of a smile ghosted at the corners of his mouth. He struck his cane lightly against the cobblestones and turned toward home, his sons falling into step beside him. He had never sought attention, nor relished it. But in the air that followed them homeward, there was an undeniable stir of satisfaction.

  Perhaps, for the first time in many years, Ashwood Heath had begun to see him for what he truly was.

  As they made their way out of the courtyard, villagers offered parting words, hesitant smiles, small gestures of regard. Robert inclined his head in return—brief, polite. Beside him, Michael and Leon exchanged incredulous glances at this uncharacteristic acceptance.

  Behind them, the wind seized the edges of the welcome banner, snapping it sharply, almost drowning the last murmured words that followed their departure. But one thing remained certain: a seed of respect had been sown. Not just for Robert, but for the entire Darnaval family.