Circe arrives at the Duke of Carpathia's estate. He senses wards, beasts, and heavy magic. Azar warns him again: do not wander. Circe sees the Duke watching from afar.
"In the Carpathia household," Ananke began seriously, "there are two things you must know. First, you are forbidden from entering the forest near the castle at night. Second, the entire west wing of the castle is strictly off limits."
"Oh." his response was flat; he clearly didn't care about either rule.
"You're not going to ask why?" Ananke asked, sounding mildly offended.
"Would you actually tell me?" he asked, amused by the boy's childish tone.
"No… but still, it's basic etiquette!"
"But I'm just a beast, remember? I don't know what 'basic etiquette' is."
Ananke scowled, puffing his cheeks slightly. "Hmph. Anyway, the Carpathia estate has five wings: Arsia, Aysel, Ahmya, Armaros, and Ophir. Each one belongs to a member of the household, and each has its own rules.
Arsia belongs to Riona Aneislis, the second child and first daughter. She hates loud noises, bright colors, and, well, people. All the magical plants in the castle are hers, so don't touch them without her permission.
Aysel belongs to Avianna Aneislis, the second daughter. She's a mage and seer, one of the family's official protectors.
Ahmya belongs to Xanith Aneislis, the eldest son. His wing has few rules just don't enter his room. He's the general of the Carpathian army, so he's rarely home.
Armaros belongs to Elivi Aneislis, the youngest son. He doesn't hold any major role in the household yet.
Finally, the western wing, Ophir,belongs to the Duke himself, the master of the house. Like I said, no one is allowed to enter there. Ever. Where we are now is the central section of the castle, reserved for guests and the Duchess, their mother."
"That's… a lot to remember," he muttered after a pause.
"Get used to it. There's more," Ananke said cheerfully.
They spent the next hour touring the estate, the kitchens, servants' quarters, greenhouse full of rare plants, and an enormous courtyard where the duke kept his collection of beasts. Afterward, they stepped outside to admire the fountains before stopping at the entrance of the west wing.
The moment he approached, a violent, unstable energy pulsed from beyond the doors. He instinctively stepped back.
"Even though its forbidden isn't this a bit much," he thought.
Then he looked up and saw a familiar blind folded man from afar, he was taking to someone on the other end.
"We've got little time left," Ruda said briskly. "Let's go to the dining hall."
They led him to a vast chamber lit entirely by candlelight. Circe immediately noticed the lack of mana crystals. The duke, it seemed, preferred the old ways, warm candlelight flickering across the walls like living shadows. Beautiful, but inefficient.
"Take a seat," Ananke said. "The duke will be joining you shortly."
The servants left, and Circe could only sense the guards standing motionless beyond the doors. The silence stretched. He got up, walking around the hall, admiring the ornate portraits and candleholders before slumping back into his chair.
With nothing else to do, he began focusing on his core. But fatigue and boredom crept over him, and soon his head dipped forward, sleep claimed him where he sat.
---
CLANG!
Chains.
That sound again.
He knew this dream. He had heard it his entire life. And as always, he couldn't remember what came after waking.
Before him stood the same familiar door. His body moved on its own, hand rising to touch it. The clinking grew louder, closer, until he pushed the door open.
Darkness poured out like liquid shadow, engulfing him whole.
A scream tore through the air, his own, and every nerve in his body burned like molten iron. His skin felt flayed, his bones crushed and rearranged. The pain was indescribable, raw and endless,
He woke with a sharp gasp, drenched in sweat. Normal. It was always like this. The dream that terrified him every night was gone the instant he opened his eyes.
Groaning, he
sat up, rubbing his head. Footsteps approached, and a curtain drew back, letting in a soft morning glow.
"Good morning, Lord Circe. It's dawn," a calm voice said. "You should wash and head to the hall for breakfast. The duke is already there. You wouldn't want to miss another meal."
Wait, another meal?
A horrifying realization hit him.
He'd fallen asleep in the dining hall.
As the servant left, mentioning that warm water had been prepared.
After washing and dressing, he stepped outside where the same servant was waiting and silently led him back toward the dining hall.
He was finally awake and his mind finally exploded with embarrassment. He knew well how he slept. He's seen beast's with better sleeping postures, did the duke find him sleeping? He felt like digging a hole and burying himself in it.
Circe buried his face in his hands. His entire face turned crimson. Of all the possible first impressions, he'd chosen snoring through dinner.
"Perfect," he muttered bitterly. "Just perfect."
His first impression, well that was already gone.