Lucius adjusted the strap of his satchel. The rare herb inside wasn't for his father's health—he'd made that clear earlier. No, it was a gift to catch the attention of the royal researcher who frequented the minor duke's court.
His father had raised an eyebrow when Lucius brought it up, but he didn't argue. "If you impress the researcher, it could mean more than just favors. Doors open, opportunities come. For all of us."
The road hummed beneath the carriage wheels. Silence settled between Lucius and his brother. The elder gave a snide remark about chasing empty dreams, but Lucius didn't bother to reply.
Better to chase than rot in place.
The manor loomed ahead, steeped in dusty portraits and unspoken memories. Their mother's absence was a quiet weight pressing on the house—no one mentioned it, but it lingered like a shadow.
In the study, Lucius carefully laid the herb on the desk.
"This will get their attention," he said.
His father glanced at it, then nodded. "Do what you must."
Lucius knew this was only the first step.
Outside, the world carried on. Nobles schemed. Magic flickered weakly in his veins. And the past waited, silent and patient, ready to unravel.