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“That wasn’t in the agreement.”

“Excuse me...” Glaring back at Mertin, Reginol stated, “You have no right to speak out against your master.”

“And you have no right to claim my daughter, only me. Unless you’d like to discuss this here and now...” Mertin replied, even taking off his mask for Tranton and the other nearby family’s to see.

“Put that back on!”

“What’s this? Libarn’s been weaseling into the Practor Family?” Tranton asked loudly. “Still after Hurman’s bloodline and techniques, I see?”

“It’s none of your business.”

.....

“What if it was?” Tranton showed a quizzical brow. “I thought about asking later, but why not now... Hurman, mind betrothing Melinda to Trenk.”

“Excuse me?”

“What?!”

“Father...”

Bafflement washed over everyone within earshot. Those from Libarn, Reginol in particular, were especially irked.

Hurman looked at both Trenk and Melinda, nodding slowly at each of them. “I’m not against it... but I won’t agree without some to think and get their consent.”

“Trenk’s more than willing. I’ve never seen any woman gain his interest, so that’s got to count for something,” chuckled Tranton.

“Still, it’s not something I can agree to on the spot,” Hurman continued. “Perhaps after this tournament we can meet properly and discuss the possibility in a more appropriate setting.”

“Melinda won’t be able to–”

“She’s allowed to take part in the meeting,” stated Mertin, directly defying Reginol as his mask was still undone. “My children are not a part of our deal. If you dare go against your word so blatantly, then I’ll blatantly admit the terms of our agreement.”

“Shut up...” scowled Reginol.

But Hurman chuckled and pet the hawk still perched on his shoulder. “Would you mind shouting louder, Reginol? I don’t think everyone heard you.”

Straightening his face, Reginol responded, “Whether you like it or not, the Libarn Guild would need to be involved regarding her betrothal. If anything, she would be much better suited as Fulkar’s first wife.”

“Either way, I think Melinda wanted to tell us something. Right?” Oli commented, getting everyone to calm down and turn to the fidgeting young woman.

“Umm...” Glancing back and forth from Oli, Hurman, and Mertin, Melinda felt conflicted on what to say.

“Go ahead and say whatever you want...” Hurman sighed, kneeling and patting her on the shoulders. “What convinced you to enter the tournament in secret? I think I already know how you were accepted as an entrant, so don’t mind that detail.”

Melinda nodded slowly. “Well... I just wanted to help Dad and Mom with their debts. Winning and being a direct pupil would let that happen, then Dad wouldn’t need to be a servant...”

“He’s no servant. He’s a respected bodyguard,” retorted Reginol.

“Says the man trying to force his daughter into a betrothal,” Oli remarked, getting a stabbing glare in response.

“What debt?” Hurman asked.

“Well...” Blinking, Melinda paused for a moment to keep her composure and slowly meet her father’s gaze. “... I saw his ledger...”

“Ledger? What ledger?” Reginol questioned.

“The one showing his debts, the debts you’ve forced onto him.”

“We at Libarn have never done such a thing,” stated Reginol, as if his conscience was cleaner than freshly fallen snow. “It is our goal as a business to not only gain a profit but to offer the greatest service and trade value money can buy. Exploiting others is strictly prohibited within our guild.”

“The fact that you’ve memorized that response only makes you more suspicious.”

“Why you...” Looking back at Oli, Reginol added, “If any of our merchants have done such a thing, then offer proof. Do that and we’ll investigate immediately.”

Everyone glanced at each other but no one directly replied. But Hurman didn’t bother wasting more time, smiling back to Melinda. “Don’t worry about us old folks, whether it’s me or your parents. We’ll be fine and have things under control, okay?”

“... But–”

“Just give it time. Everything will be fine,” Hurman added, throwing a casual smile at Reginol as if playing into Reginol’s ruse. “That’s also why we’ll discuss the proposed betrothal later, so don’t think too much about it just yet.”

“O-okay...” Melinda blushed, almost forgetting about the Forell Patriarch’s earlier statements. She also noticed the surprise on Trenk’s face, feeling a bit better since she wasn’t the only one caught off guard by the proposal.

“If that’s all, we didn’t need to waste time like this...” Reginol sighed, acting as if nothing had changed and quickly reverting to his usual self. “Now that we’ve congratulated Oliver, let’s get moving to the next contestants. I need to hurry and bet on Freele for the next round...”

“Good luck, Mr. Oprian!” Oli shouted like he was saying goodbye. “Make sure not to bet everything all on our match! I would feel terrible knowing that I bankrupted your entire fortune without even trying.”

“Come, Mertin, and put your mask on...” scoffed Reginol, not offering Oli the satisfaction of seeing his fuming-mad face.

“I like you, boy. But it’s too bad you’re against Freele,” Trantor added as he turned to leave. “Don’t hold back. Being a low-adept, you’ll need all the essence you’ve got just to keep her wind from slashing you away with a single move.”

“I’ll keep that in mind...” Oli sighed, not wanting to upset someone as influential as Tranton without reason.

“Master Hurman.” Trenk offered a farewell bow, getting on in return. “Oliver. Melinda.”

While the Practor Family waited for the next family to congratulate Oli, the Forell Patriarch made his way to visit his son and his soon-to-be daughter-in-law. But he was caught off guard to see the lead assistant paying the couple a visit within a silenced space. As Tranton and Trenk neared the couple, the silencing formation dissipated and Lizbeth bowed to Tranton.

“Patriarch Tranton, your sons are phenomenal talents that the Institute won’t overlook, regardless of the unexpected results of the tournament,” remarked Lizbeth.