After checking the strange new window, Claude slowly turned his head to the side. His gaze drifted toward Leonis, or at least that was how it appeared. In truth, his eyes were fixed on someone else entirely. Clyde was sitting in an illusory chair beside him, perfectly still, as if he had always belonged there.
"So… what's your answer?"
Claude hesitated. He didn't know what to say.
'I'll think about it…'
The words echoed in his mind without clarity. The offer loomed over him like a cloud that refused to break. Part of him wanted to believe Clyde with every ounce of strength he had left. But after everything that had happened, after every lie, every warped hallucination, every flicker of unreality, he could no longer be sure of anything.
"For how long?" Clyde asked, impatience leaking from his voice like steam from a boiling pot.
'I'll give you an answer tomorrow.'
Clyde responded with a sharp smirk. His figure began to fade, crumbling into particles that vanished into nothingness without a sound.
Claude blinked, returning to the real world just in time to find Leonis staring at him.
"What's up? You're acting weird today. Well, you're always kind of weird, but today it's different."
Claude met his gaze.
'The guy who shut everyone out of boredom. I might have actually liked him if I wasn't dealing with everything else right now.'
He gave Leonis a tired look, one meant to seem like an act, though it wasn't. He was genuinely drained, worn thin from too many layers of thought and deception.
"I… I'm just tired," Claude mumbled.
Leonis raised a brow, his expression caught between suspicion and concern. He was about to let it drop but something else came to mind.
"You know, I'm actually curious. You never lash out. Ever. I know you're going through a rough time, but snapping at Sylvia? That's what surprised me. I thought you'd stab me before ever saying something rude to her."
Claude didn't flinch. He already knew Elyas had feelings for Sylvia. That much had become clear. But he didn't care. He wasn't Elyas. He was a gutter rat wearing a noble's face, a thief wrapped in someone else's life. Still, he would give her the version of Elyas she expected, just enough to keep the illusion alive.
Before he could reply, a maid stepped into the room.
"Young Masters, Young Misses, your parents request your presence in the meeting room."
The children rose from their seats in unison. Chairs creaked softly against the polished marble floor. Murmurs stirred through the group as they began following the maid. Claude walked at the very back, deliberately keeping his distance.
Roy followed him wordlessly. As always, the man moved like a shadow, silent and unblinking. Whether he was a bodyguard, a statue in motion, or simply a mannequin in armor, Claude had yet to decide.
They eventually arrived at the meeting room. Claude entered last. The room itself felt colder than it should have, large and solemn, with a ceiling high enough to swallow sound. Chandeliers glowed faintly above, casting delicate webs of light across the stone tiles.
A long table stretched out before them. The family heads of the nobility sat around it in grim silence. At the far end sat Duchess Seraphina, composed and sharp-eyed, her presence like a wall no one could move. Flanking her were Marquises Thronic and Lewis, who were in turn followed by Counts, Viscounts, and Barons in descending rank.
There were twenty-three nobles seated in total. Behind each of them stood their respective heir, stiff and motionless like ceremonial statues.
Claude's eyes scanned the assembly. He spotted Count Emrys and Countess Cordelia, and finally Baron Howard. Lloyd stood behind Howard, his posture straight, his eyes unreadable.
Claude felt nothing for any of them.
His mind wasn't on the hierarchy or the politics. It was already rehearsing what he would say when the questions came. And they would come. Soon.
The conversation opened with the subject of the recent outskirts kidnappings. It quickly became apparent that Howard and Emrys were the most vocal, their concern filling the air like smoke. Claude watched them with a quiet scoff.
'Of course they care now. Now that it affected them directly. Years of children vanishing, and they never blinked. But now, with their own blood involved, they act like it's an outrage. Hypocrites.'
He glanced at them again, a subtle bitterness coiling behind his expression.
Then Count Emrys turned to Enya, his voice softer.
"Dear, I know this is difficult, but can you tell us what happened?"
Enya took a hesitant step forward, folding her hands in front of her.
"Of course, Father."
She took a breath to steady herself before continuing.
"I was walking alone. It was still morning. I was in a clothing shop, just looking through dresses. Then, out of nowhere, I felt something hit me from behind. I didn't see anything. I blacked out almost immediately, but before that I saw both of my servants collapsed on the floor."
She paused. Her voice trembled slightly.
"When I woke up, I was trapped in a metal cage. I was alone, but I could see other people locked up around me. They looked hollow, starved, as if they had been there for days. I was terrified. A bandit would come in to deliver food, but other than that, I didn't see much."
She looked like she was about to finish, then her eyes widened.
"Oh… I just remembered. There was a boy who sometimes brought food too. I don't remember much about him. Just… he had weird purple eyes."
Claude raised an eyebrow, unable to hide his reaction.
'Seriously? You don't remember me? I pulled you out of that place. You'd be a slave if I hadn't. Unbelievable.'
Enya stepped back, and then it was Claude's turn.
He walked forward slowly, keeping his expression carefully restrained. When he spoke, his voice was shaky, intentionally so.
"I… I remember walking by myself. Then I felt something strange, like an Aether disturbance. That was the last thing I sensed before I blacked out."
Another lie, layered on top of the others.
"When I woke up, I was inside a cage. Just like Enya described. But I wasn't there long. A massive bandit came and dragged me to a more secure room hidden deep inside. It was cold, quiet, and completely isolated."
He paused, glancing around the room as if reliving it.
"I wasn't alone. There was another boy, about my age. He was thin, sickly looking. The bandits brought food but never for him. They acted like he didn't exist. I don't know how long he had been there. They were cruel to me, but with him, they didn't even bother to pretend. They ignored his existence entirely."
Claude lowered his voice.
"I felt sorry for him. He didn't deserve that. I don't know what happened to him after Father found me."
The words felt perfect. Every line sounded like something Elyas would have said. Claude had learned to mimic him well. He had studied Elyas in that very same prison he was describing. Every inflection, every expression, it all belonged to someone else.
"But if you ask me what stood out the most," Claude added with a quiet sigh, "it's that nobles are treated better than the others. Like valuables. Like something everyone wants to possess."
Claude said it with a solemn, mournful tone.
But inside, he was smiling.