Oblong drew a slow breath and bowed his head—not to me, but to the ground. "I will not let it be harmed again," he said. "Not by greed. Not by ignorance. Not by power-hungry fools who see only resources and not consequence."
Then he looked at me again.
"I do not swear blind loyalty," he said carefully. "I will question you if you are wrong. I will stop you if you endanger it without reason."
A pause. "But I will stand with you," he said. "Because you are the first person who ever treated that land like it deserved a future."
His voice did not break.
Mine almost did. I shifted slowly, pushing myself upright just enough to meet his gaze fully. The effort made my head throb, but this—this—was worth the cost. "You don't owe me service," I said.
"I know."
"You don't owe me obedience."
"I know."
