Raise her in the castle as your own.

“We will feed her,” you say pointedly to the guard. “Go get some rations, lieutenant.”

The lieutenant stiffens to attention, salutes, and walks away to do as ordered.

You look down at the little girl. She’s still trembling like a leaf. You kneel and take off your helmet, revealing a scarred face. “Hello, little one. What’s your name?”

She reels back from you a little, but calms down a bit when you ask your question. “Allinia,” she responds. “Allinia Umerie.”

You smile. “Allinia, that’s a pretty name. Where are your parents?”

She looks down and begins shaking again, holding back a sob. “Th-they’re dead. Mommy got eaten by the dragon, and I don’t know where daddy is but I think he got eaten too.”

You lower your other leg to be on both knees as you remove your gauntlets and extend one hand to the girl. “Come here.” She hesitantly takes your hand, and you draw her close.

“I know what it’s like to lose a parent.” Your mother had been murdered by the incarnation of the elf hero that tried to kill your father, and in front of your eyes, no less. “I can’t imagine what it’s like to lose both on the same day, but,” You slowly bring your other arm around to pick her up. She doesn’t resist, and you stand. “You must honor their lives by continuing to live yourself. Do you understand?”

She nods weakly.

“Do you have any other family?”

She looks at the smoldering village. “None outside of this village.”

You nod. “Then how about you come to my castle and live with me? I’ll become your new guardian.”

She quickly turns to you. “You have a castle? Are you some kind of rich noble?”

You can’t help but smile at this question. “Yes, I have a castle. No, I’m not a rich noble. I’m the king.”

Her eyes widen, and she seems to push away from you in fear for a moment before relaxing and looking down. “You’re going to be my new guardian? Not my new mommy?”

You snort a little. “I can’t be your new mommy, but you can call me ‘father,’ if you think it’s appropriate.”

She shifts uncomfortably on your armored arm. “Does that mean I’ll have to take your last name?”

You shake your head. “Not if you don’t want to.”

She hums a little bit. “What do I call you until then?”

“Lord Asgeir.” you say. “or simply, ‘my lord,’ or if you want to be fancy, ‘Lord Vidar Asgeir.’”

She chews on something invisible for a moment. “Ok, Lord Asgeir. I’ll go with you.”

You nod, and your soldier comes back with the rations.