Morning light filtered gently through the tall glass windows of the Noctyrr estate, painting soft patterns across the polished marble floor. The dining hall was warm, quiet, and filled with the faint scent of freshly brewed tea.
It was peaceful.
Too peaceful.
Jena Noctyrr sat gracefully at the head of the table, her movements elegant as she adjusted a napkin. Her eyes occasionally drifted to Caelum with a soft, maternal warmth she did not bother hiding.
Thyrene lounged on one side, legs crossed, arms folded, her sharp eyes already scanning the room as if expecting trouble to walk in at any moment. Eliya sat beside Caelum, close enough that her shoulder brushed his, swinging her legs slightly while focusing too seriously on her breakfast.
Lucien Noctyrr stood near the window, reading a document with quiet intensity, his presence steady and composed.
And Caelum—
Caelum was calm.
Outwardly.
His posture was relaxed. His expression neutral. He looked like any other noble boy enjoying a normal morning.
But inside—
'This timing is wrong,' he thought.
'Too quiet. Too still.'
He lifted his cup, took a slow sip, and lowered it without a sound. His gaze shifted subtly around the room. The windows. The doors. The servants.
Everything was normal.
That was the problem.
Thyrene noticed his pause. She always did.
"You're staring again," she said, narrowing her eyes. "What is it this time?"
Caelum looked at her and shrugged lightly. "Nothing."
"That's what you always say."
Eliya leaned closer, whispering conspiratorially, "Big brother is thinking. That means something is going to happen."
Caelum gave a small smile and gently tapped her forehead. "You're overthinking."
She pouted. "You always say that too."
Jena laughed softly. "You two…" She turned to Caelum. "Did you sleep well?"
"Yes," he replied smoothly. "Perfectly."
Lucien lowered his document slightly, his sharp eyes resting on Caelum. He did not speak, but his gaze carried quiet scrutiny. Not suspicion. Evaluation.
Caelum met his eyes.
Held them.
Then calmly looked away.
'He senses disturbances,' Caelum thought.
'Always has.'
The moment passed.
The utensils clinked softly.
Tea was poured.
The house breathed.
And then—
The air shifted.
Not dramatically.
Not violently.
But noticeably.
A subtle pressure rolled through the estate like an invisible wave.
Caelum's spine straightened slightly.
Jena's hand paused mid-pour.
Thyrene frowned. "Did you feel that?"
Eliya blinked. "Feel what?"
Lucien turned toward the entrance.
The sound came next.
Hooves.
Multiple.
Heavy.
Disciplined.
The rhythm was too synchronized to be civilian.
Too controlled.
Too… authoritative.
Caelum's fingers tightened around his cup.
'Royal,' he thought.
'No doubt.'
The doors to the dining hall opened sharply.
A servant rushed in, face pale. "My Lord, My Lady—"
Boots interrupted him.
Two figures stepped in.
Crimson cloaks.
Gold embroidery.
Steel armor gleaming faintly in the morning light.
Royal Knights.
The temperature of the room seemed to drop.
Jena stood instantly.
Lucien was already on his feet.
Thyrene's posture shifted, protective.
Eliya moved closer to Caelum, instinctively gripping his sleeve.
And Caelum—
Caelum felt his heartbeat steady.
Not race.
Steady.
Focused.
'So this is it,' he thought.
'She wasted no time.'
The knights advanced three steps.
Then knelt.
Both of them.
In perfect synchronization.
Their fists struck the marble floor.
Thud.
Thud.
The sound echoed.
Heavy.
Final.
A third figure stepped forward.
A man dressed in formal black with gold lining. His presence was refined but cold, his eyes sharp with practiced authority.
The royal messenger.
He bowed deeply.
"To Duke Lucien Noctyrr," he announced, voice clear and resonant. "By decree of Her Majesty, Queen Aurelisse Veyrane."
Silence swallowed the room.
Lucien stepped forward, expression composed. "State your purpose."
The messenger reached into his coat and withdrew a scroll.
Crimson wax.
The royal crest.
The symbol of absolute authority.
Jena's breath caught.
Thyrene's eyes widened.
Eliya froze.
Caelum did not move.
The messenger raised the scroll.
"This is a personal summons," he said. "For Caelum Noctyrr."
The words hit like a blade.
Eliya gasped audibly. "B-Big brother…?"
Thyrene turned sharply. "For him?"
Jena's hand flew to her chest. "Caelum…?"
Lucien's gaze snapped to his son.
Sharp.
Unblinking.
Searching.
Caelum stood slowly.
No rush.
No hesitation.
No fear.
He walked forward with measured steps and accepted the scroll with both hands. The wax seal was cold against his skin.
Real.
Too real.
The messenger bowed again. "You are commanded to attend the upcoming Royal Gathering at the palace. Your presence is required."
Required.
Not requested.
Lucien's jaw tightened.
Jena stepped forward, her voice calm but firm. "My son is fifteen. Is it truly appropriate for Her Majesty to summon him so suddenly?"
The messenger did not hesitate. "Her Majesty does not act without reason."
Thyrene clenched her fists. "He's not some ornament for display."
Lucien raised a hand slightly.
She stopped.
Caelum felt Eliya's grip tighten.
He glanced down.
Her eyes were wide.
Worried.
Trusting.
His chest tightened.
Not painfully.
He placed his hand gently over hers.
She relaxed.
Jena looked at him. "Caelum… are you okay?"
He smiled.
Warm.
Natural.
"Of course," he said lightly. "It's just a gathering. I'll be fine."
She studied his face.
Searching for cracks.
Found none.
And nodded.
Lucien exhaled slowly. "We will prepare."
The messenger bowed. "The royal carriage will arrive in three days."
Three days.
The number echoed in Caelum's mind.
'Fast,' he thought.
'Too fast.'
The messenger turned.
The knights rose.
The pressure moved with them.
And then—
They were gone.
The doors closed.
The house exhaled.
Eliya sagged. "That was… scary…"
Thyrene clicked her tongue. "I don't like it."
Jena walked to Caelum and cupped his face gently. "If you're uncomfortable, say so."
He leaned slightly into her touch. "I'm okay. Really."
Lucien watched him closely.
Said nothing.
But his eyes were heavy with thought.
Thyrene muttered under her breath. "The Queen doesn't summon boys for no reason."
Caelum smiled faintly.
'No,' he thought.
'She doesn't.'
Eliya hugged him suddenly. "Don't go."
He paused.
Then gently patted her head. "It's just for a day."
She did not look convinced.
Caelum lowered his gaze to the scroll in his hand.
The royal seal gleamed.
'She chose speed,' he thought.
'Interesting.'
His smile remained.
But his eyes sharpened.
Just a little.
'Fine,' he thought.
'Then let's see how you play.'
The game had begun.
And he was already on the board.