That's why.
He never refused a mission.
Not once.
Even if he was being used.
Even if it was political.
Even if it was dangerous.
Because it gave him something valuable.
Freedom.
Freedom to leave.
To travel.
To see the world with his own eyes.
He didn't waste it.
He watched the people.
He listened to their struggles.
He saw burned villages.
Empty homes.
Children clutching old rags in place of parents who would never return.
He saw real suffering—not stories, not reports.
And every time he returned from a mission,
he understood something more.
How cruel war is.
How easy it was for kingdoms to send armies.
How hard it was for the common people to survive after.
He didn't want to sit in a study, ruling by theory.
He wanted to understand it all before the day came.
The day he could no longer say no.
The day he would have to take the seat he hated most.
Count of Armand.
He would take it when he was ready.
When he knew the weight he carried was real—
