"Is it good?" Lady Ophelia asked, watching him devour his food as if it might vanish any second.
"Slow down," she said gently. "There's more than enough."
The server returned with several more plates. Malachai looked at all the food and stopped eating.
"What happens if I can't finish all of it?" he asked hesitantly.
"They'll be thrown away," she replied matter-of-factly.
"Then... could I take them for my sister?" His voice trembled, as if afraid she might refuse.
"Of course. Take as much as you like."
"Really? Thank you!" His face lit up with joy.
When Malachai stepped out of the alehouse carrying the food, Lady Ophelia followed him to the door.
"Why don't I take you home?" Lady Ophelia offered her carriage.
"No, it's alright. You've already done so much for me, my lady," Malachai said, flustered.
"I insist. You might run into those men again."
Feeling indebted, he couldn't bring himself to refuse.
"Are you certain you live here?" Lady Ophelia asked, peering out the carriage window as they entered the slums.
"Yes," Malachai murmured, looking down. "You can drop me off here."
The moment he stepped out, he sprinted toward a narrow alley.
"Ashen! I brought food!" His voice was bright with excitement. "Ashen, are you sleeping?"
He bent down, but his smile faded instantly. Blood stained the corners of his sister's mouth, and her trembling hands clutched a dead rat. Her breathing was shallow, labored.
"Ashen!" He scooped her into his arms and ran back toward Lady Ophelia before she could depart.
"My lady! My lady!" he cried desperately.
Lady Ophelia turned just before stepping inside. Her eyes widened at the sight.
"Please, help my sister!"
Without hesitation, she rushed forward, taking Ashen into her arms. "Get in!" she ordered.
They raced to her estate. The moment they arrived, Lady Ophelia called for a healer.
"Don't worry," she said gently, resting a hand on Malachai's shoulder as tears streamed down his cheeks. "She'll be alright."
Minutes felt like hours until the healer finally stepped out. "She's safe now," he announced. "It was food poisoning from eating a rat."
Malachai entered the room and looked at her sister lying on the bed.
"She must've been so hungry. I should've come earlier," he thought feeling guilty.
He turned to Lady Ophelia, his voice low. "Thank you, my lady. You've helped me twice in a single day. I don't know how to repay you."
Lady Ophelia's expression softened as she looked between him and his sister.
"Why don't you stay here? I'm worried what might happen to you and your sister if you go back to the slums," Lady Ophelia offered in concern.
"But I don't want to impose."
"How about you work for me? I can provide food and shelter for you and your sister. The slums are no place for children, especially with your sister's condition."
Malachai glanced at Ashen, then back at Lady Ophelia.
"Then... I will accept your offer, my lady. I promise to work hard for you," he said, tears sliding down his cheeks in gratitude.
Lady Ophelia gently wiped them away. "You've been crying all day. Rest now."
Days passed, and Ashen had fully recovered. Malachai quickly adjusted to his new life, serving as Lady Ophelia's personal attendant.
"Did the Baron go up to the garret again?" a maid whispered.
"Yes. I don't understand how long this will go on. How could he do this to Lord Lucian? He's still the Queen's son," another replied, struggling with a pail of water stained with blood.
Carrying a bundle of letters, Malachai made his way to Lady Ophelia's room.
"My lady, there are letters for you," he said, stepping inside.
"Leave them on the table," she replied without looking up from the book she was reading by the window.
He did as told, but lingered.
"Is something wrong?" she asked, glancing at him.
"I saw a maid coming down from the garret. Is someone living up there?" Malachai asked.
"Ah... that," she said casually. "Yes."
"How come I've never seen them leave?"
"As long as my brother is here, he'll keep his son locked there," Lady Ophelia said as if it's something normal.
Malachai blinked. "Then he's your nephew. Shouldn't you be helping him, my lady?"
"My brother is the head of the family. His words are the law in this house, even I cannot intervene," she said, her tone unchanged.
She looked at Malachai.
"Are you worried about him?" she asked.
"I've been in his position. I know what it feels like."
Lady Ophelia thought for a moment. "The second princess adores her brother. If only my foolish brother understood the advantage he's wasting. Perhaps I can turn this to my favor."
Out loud, she said, "Why don't you bring his food from now on? He's younger than you but I'm sure you'll get along. Just be careful not to be seen by my brother."
Malachai's eyes lit up. "Thank you, my lady."
That night, he carried a small tray toward the garret.
"This is all they give him? He's the Baron's son, yet this is worse than the servants' meals," Malachai thought, staring at the stale bread and cloudy water.
As he reached the garret, he knocked on the door but no one answered.
"I'm coming in," he called softly, stepping inside.
It was dark and cold. He saw him crouching in the corner of the room. It reminded him of their time in the slums.
"How could the Baron treat his own child like this?" he thought.
He took a cautious step forward, but Lucian flinched. Malachai stopped and lowered the tray to the floor.
"I brought your food," he said gently, leaving it within reach before backing away.
He didn't move at first, but hunger eventually won. He grabbed the bread and devoured it in seconds.
Malachai noticed the cuts and bruises on Lucian.
"Uhm... I'm Malachai. What's your name? How did you get those wounds?" Malachai tried to start a conversation, but Lucian only glared at him.
"I don't work for the Baron," Malachai quickly waved his hand, denying whatever Lucian might be thinking. "I work for Lady Ophelia. She's your aunt, right?"
Lucian didn't answer.
"I'll come back again tomorrow. From now on, I'll be the one bringing your food. I'll try to get you something better," he promised, then left.
For days, Malachai tried to strike up a conversation whenever he brought food, but Lucian always stayed silent. Still, he no longer glared at him.
Until one day...
"You can't go to the garret today," Lady Ophelia told Malachai.
"Why?"
"The Baron just arrived," she replied, glancing out the window at the carriage.
"The queen must've rejected him again," Lady Ophelia thought.
That night, the halls were dark and silent. The servants knew better than to roam around when the Baron was home. Yet Malachai, worried for Lucian, decided to sneak into the garret.
"How could the queen treat me like this?! I am the princess's father! If only you were useful!" the Baron shouted, whipping Lucian, clearly drunk.
"I'm sorry, Father!" Lucian cried in pain.
"How could that wench of a queen give me such a measly amount when there are two of you?! I should have the title of Duke, just like Liora's father!" The Baron's strikes fell harder. "That ungrateful sister of yours doesn't even bother to look for me!"
Malachai could no longer stand watching the abuse. It reminded him of the day his parents were cornered and killed mercilessly.
The air trembled, then shattered. The window exploded inward, shards of glass cutting into the Baron. A violent gust of wind hurled him against the wall, knocking him unconscious.
"Are you okay?" Malachai rushed to Lucian's side.
"What are you doing here? You shouldn't be here! My father will see you," Lucian said weakly.
"It's okay. He's unconscious. It will take a while for him to wake up. He might not even remember what happened," Malachai reassured him.
"What's happening here?!" Lady Ophelia came rushing in after hearing the noise. She looked around, seeing the Baron lying on the floor amidst the broken glass.
"Malachai, did you do this?" she demanded.
"I'm sorry, my lady, but I just couldn't watch and do nothing," Malachai said apologetically.
Lady Ophelia moved closer to them.
"That's okay." She turned to Lucian and saw his wounds. "Let's get you treated."
"What's going to happen now, Aunt Ophelia? Father will surely be furious when he wakes up," Lucian said, his body trembling in fear.
Lady Ophelia wrapped her arms around him. "I heard the Queen will be sending gold for your expenses tomorrow. Your father will be too busy to notice you. Now, let's fix things here before he wakes up."
They dragged the Baron to his chambers. When morning came, just as Ophelia had said, carriages filled with gold, silk, fine clothes, and jewelry arrived at the manor for Lucian. The Baron's mood brightened instantly, and he left at once to gamble. Lucian was now able to return to his room.
"There's something I'd like to talk to you about," Lady Ophelia said, settling into her chair. "It's about what happened yesterday."
Malachai felt nervous.
"I noticed it at the market but I wasn't sure then, but after what happened last night, I am now sure that you can use magic. Could you show it to me?" Lady Ophelia asked.
Malachai hesitated, then obeyed. He moved his hand in a slow, circular motion. The closed window creaked open, letting in a cool breeze. Lady Ophelia felt it brush across her face. A moment later, Malachai lifted himself into the air, suspended by the wind.
"Incredible," Ophelia whispered. "Since when could you do this? You should have used it before the merchants attacked you."
"That was the first time," Malachai admitted. "I knew my mother was a mage, but I didn't know I could be one too."
"Your first time? But you controlled the wind like you've done it for years."
"I've been practicing since then."
"It hasn't been long since he first used magic, and yet he's already controlling it with ease," Ophelia thought. "Most children his age take years to master it but he was able to do it in a short amount of time without a tutor."
"I have an idea," she said, her tone brightening. "Why don't you attend the Arcane Lyceum? It's the most prestigious school for mages. All great mages studied there."
"But..." Malachai's voice wavered.
"If you're worried about the cost, I'll sponsor you," she said. "And if you're worried about your sister, she can stay here under my care." She glanced out the window, watching Ashen play in the courtyard.
"I'm afraid I might disappoint you. What if I fail?"
Ophelia rose and rested her hands on his shoulders. "I believe in you. You have a rare gift. It would be a waste for you to remain a servant. Don't you want a better life for your sister? As a mage, you'll be respected. No one will dare look down on you."
Malachai's eyes brightened at the thought of the future. "I gratefully accept your offer, my lady. I promise to work hard, so I can be of use to you."
"Good," she said with a smile. "Prepare yourself. The gates of the Lyceum will open in two weeks."
From that day, Malachai practiced magic day and night. When the time came, he said his goodbyes to his sister and to Lucian, and set out for the Arcane Lyceum.