Lumian was stunned by the figure blocking her door. Reflexively, she hid her knitted teddy bear behind her back.
Before her stood a small girl with crystal-clear gray eyes and flowing, bleached-blonde hair—Evangeline, her sister, now twelve years old. From the kitchen, which adjoined the living room, the aroma of warm soup wafted, accompanied by an elderly woman with braided hair, Aunt May, their nanny. She was examining the spices in a wooden drawer.
"I thought you weren't awake yet—" Eva stopped as her curious eyes narrowed. "What are you hiding?"
Lumian sighed softly, then awkwardly held out her knitted teddy bear. "This... is for you. Sorry, it's not as good as your old ones..."
Before she could finish her sentence, Eva had already reached for it and hugged it tightly to her chest. "This is what you made?!"
"Yes," Lumian replied curtly.
"I love it so much!" Eva exclaimed, rubbing the teddy bear against her flushed cheeks. A wide smile spread across her face. "This is more special than any of my other dolls."
Lumian smiled with relief. "Thank goodness."
"Young Master, Princess, breakfast is ready," Aunt May called from the dining table, breaking the momentary silence.
"Come on, eat!" Eva immediately rushed to her seat, still clutching the doll her sister had given her.
Lumian followed her and sat across from her. A bowl of clear soup filled with chopped vegetables and a plate of warm rice awaited her. She took a mouthful, but the soup tasted... bland. So bland, in fact, that she grimaced unconsciously.
"Bland, huh?" Aunt May asked, catching her expression. "I'm out of salt, so I can only make what I need."
"Really?" Lumian objected. I think I have to go to the market now, she thought, strengthening her resolve.
But all the lack of flavor vanished as her gaze fell on Eva, devouring her meal with gusto, without the slightest complaint. "Calm down, Auntie. Just look at Eva—she's still eating."
"Huh?" Eva frowned, surprised.
"If it tastes bland, just look at Eva. This food tastes delicious," she continued, almost laughing.
Eva choked lightly, then hit her brother's arm in mock anger. "Brother!"
Aunt May, watching from across the room, also chuckled. "Young Master is right."
Eva's cheeks reddened even more. She cleared her throat quickly to change the subject. "I'm off today. You're off work too, right?"
Lumian chewed slowly before answering, her smile still intact. "Yes. But I have plans to go to the market to buy some necessities."
"I'll come!" Eva asked immediately.
"Come with me?"
"Yes! I want to go for a walk with you. Is that okay?" Eva's eyes sparkled with hope, as if refusing to accept rejection.
Looking at Eva's shining gray eyes, the image of their mother's face flashed clearly in Lumian's mind. The two bore a striking resemblance—those gray eyes were indeed their father's, but the facial features and strands of bleached blonde hair were clearly inherited from their mother.
Lumian paused for a moment, considering the risks lurking. The city market was bustling with merchants from various kingdoms, including—though unlikely—an envoy from Aethelgard. If anyone recognized him, the consequences would be more than just a ruined day; Eva could be taken from him.
His gaze shifted to Eva. The possibility was remote, but as long as it existed, danger lurked.
But on the other hand... keeping her locked away in a remote village would be like slowly torturing her. He torn between caution and the desire to make her sister happy.
"Big Brother... I'm not a child anymore," Eva said, her voice soft but confident, breaking Lumian's reverie.
The sentence made Lumian pause. There was something different in her sister's tone—not an innocent whimper, but a calm, mature statement. He knew Eva was right, but there was a part of him that refused to let go of the image of the little sister he'd always protected.
After a draining internal debate, his tense shoulders slowly relaxed. A decision finally came to him.
"Okay," he said with a small, resigned smile. "But finish your food first."
"Ready!" Eva replied, her face glowing with joy.
While Eva ate her breakfast with renewed vigor, Lumian watched her with mixed feelings.
...
The food was finished. With a well-established rhythm, they cleared the table together. As Lumian turned toward his room, Eva was like a faithful shadow following his every step—entering the room uninvited, as if afraid to be left behind.
Seeing her sister's behavior, Lumian could only shake her head with a soft, touching smile. From a simple wooden cupboard, she pulled out a dark green robe. "Wear this," she said, tossing it casually.
Eva caught it deftly, but her brow immediately furrowed. "Why do we have to wear robes?"
"Just in case," Lumian replied. The two words sounded ordinary, but beneath them lay a mountain of unspoken worry.
Eva agreed. For her, if her Bro said so, it must be for the best.
As she adjusted her own robe, Lumian's gaze fell on Eva, who was stroking the wooden Barnaby doll. Her tiny fingers tapping the doll's head in wonder.
"Why isn't Barnaby alive, Bro?"
Lumian paused for a moment, searching for the right words. "He... needs a long rest," she finally said, trying to cover up the more complicated truth with a simple metaphor.
Eva nodded slowly, accepting the explanation with childlike innocence.
…
With their robes on, they stood in front of the door. Eva clutched her woven shopping bag tightly, her face beaming with anticipation.
"Bye, Auntie!" Eva called cheerfully. Lumian only responded with a gentle nod and a faint smile at Aunt May, who stood in the doorway with a loving gaze.
They stepped outside, descending the wooden steps that creaked with each step. The sound seemed to be a constant companion as they departed.
"Eva, listen carefully," Lumian said, his voice soft but full of a message that should not be ignored. "While you're at the market, you must always stay close to me and follow all my instructions carefully. Understand?"
Eva nodded slowly. To diffuse the sudden seriousness between them, she rested her head on her sister's arm for a moment and whispered softly, "Yes, my dear Brother..." Her sweet smile spread, trying to break through the wall of worry surrounding Lumian.
But Lumian remained unmoved. His face remained unchanged—no return smile, no warm twinkle. His thoughts were focused on one goal: Eva's safety. For him, Eva's safety was paramount, even though it made him appear cold and stiff in her eyes.
They arrived at the main door of the apartment. With a gentle push from Lumian, the door slowly opened.
The morning sunlight greeted them, illuminating Lumian's face and accentuating the dark shadows and fine lines under her gray eyes—scars from sleepless nights and unspoken burdens.
Reflexively, Lumian lifted the collar of her robe, shrouding her face in shadow. "Eva," he called softly, gesturing, "raise it."
Eva nodded quickly, immediately raising her hood without asking.