Harmonia Calendar 3715, Thal 21 - Ashspire Estate, Elandor
Noon - Lucien's Room
I shut the chamber door with my heel and leaned against the wood, basking in the silence.
A few minutes passed like that before I pushed myself off the door and crossed to the desk. The chair creaked beneath me as I sank into it.
Haah.
I let out a slow breath and closed my eyes for a moment before opening them again.
The letter immediately caught my gaze. It lay exactly where I'd left it, the seal unbroken, resting before the mirror like it had been waiting for me. My eyes lingered on it, then drifted past the parchment until they caught the mirror behind it.
Short, practical blond hair and emerald eyes, Mother's eyes, stared back at me. Yet the expression I wore was one I couldn't name. A dark vest lay snug over a simple linen shirt, the collar left loose. Not styled like Favian, who wore charm like a weapon.
I lifted a hand, combing fingers through my hair, more to calm myself than to truly fix it, before I let my hand fall to the desk, fingertips brushing the old wood, but in the end, my gaze slipped back to the letter.
I reached for it, my thumb brushing over the seal. A sword had been stamped into its center, enclosed by a simple circle.
Master's crest. A mark of pow—
Knock.
The sound cut through my thoughts. Wood creaked as the door opened and Mother slipped inside, closing the door with her hip. I was about to stand up, but she waved her hand, stopping me, and smiled.
"Have you decided?"
My eyes drifted back to the letter, fingers tracing the wax seal once more before I shifted my gaze to Mother and shook my head.
"Not yet."
She gave a small nod at my words and stepped past me and toward the window. Her fingertips trailed over the curtain's hem, slowly, as if inspecting it. Another moment passed before she spoke again.
"Your Father will never name you heir." Her voice was soft, but every word carried weight.
Mother's fingers lingered on the curtain, pushing it slowly aside before she turned. The light shone over her figure, making her emerald eyes shine as they looked down at me.
"Favian will be heir. That won't change. But Lucien… you are gifted. Talented even. Don't waste it here. Make something out of it."
There was a different kind of weight in her words now. My eyes fell down to the letter again, not able to hold her gaze anymore. The seal caught the light, red against white.
"I don't want to leave them…Theodora and Adonis." I whispered, loud enough for her to hear.
Mother didn't answer immediately, instead, she stepped away from the window and closer. Her hand rose to my chin and gently guided my head upward. My eyes resisted at first, but her touch left me no choice. When I finally met her gaze again, emerald eyes looked back at me, soft, carrying love and care that only a mother could hold.
"Lucien… leaving isn't the end," she spoke gently. "It's a part of life. We all leave, one way or another. What matters isn't that you leave. It's whether you return."
I smiled at her words.
"You're right… I just have to come back."
She was right, but…
The words sat in my throat like stones. My thumb pressed harder on the wax before I spoke again, quieter.
"Do you think he would care if I left?"
Her eyes softened at my choice of words, and her hand pressed a little firmer against my cheek. She drew a breath before answering.
"He…he would, he just won't say it."
I nodded, but the motion felt empty, more for her sake than mine. Inside, I already knew his answer.
He wouldn't care. He never does. He'd wave me off with those same words, "Do what you want."
It's always the same. To him, nothing matters as long as Favian is here. I could vanish tomorrow, and he wouldn't even blink. And the worst part? I've stopped expecting anything else.
Mother's hand slipped from my cheek as she stepped back and turned to the window. She lingered there, eyes watching over the garden. Then her head turned slightly, toward me again.
"I worry for him."
I set the letter down and asked, "Adonis?"
She gave a slow nod and shifted her gaze back to the window.
"He tries to make himself small. He shouldn't have to."
I pushed myself up from the chair and joined her at the window.
Below, in the garden, Adonis stood out even at a distance with his damp hair falling to his forehead, and a black tunic sticking to his slim frame. Beside him moved a young maid, perhaps thirteen; she was striking in her own way.
Dark brown hair fell straight to her shoulders, and her bright amber eyes caught the sun like fire.
Is that the new maid the stewards mentioned, the one put in charge of washing clothes?
She staggered under a bundle of cloth far too heavy for her arms, nearly stumbling. Adonis's hand shot out then, one arm catching her waist, and the other steadying the load. He said something I couldn't hear, and her face flushed crimson in an instant. She hesitated when he took the bundle from her, then laughed at whatever he said next, her embarrassment melting into a grin that lit her whole face.
I watched her gaze linger on him, stars shining in her eyes, and tried my best to hold my laughter back.
That boy will be a problem one day, with all the girls falling for him. Good luck to Mother handling that.
The thought made me grin, and I broke the silence.
"The maids really do love him."
Mother smiled at my words, then turned, pausing just long enough to give me one last look over her shoulder. Her voice came low, knowing, almost amused.
"Not only the maids."
She left the room, the soft brush of her dress trailing across the stone floor until the door clicked shut behind her.
I watched the door close before turning back to the window, but the garden was already empty by then.
Good luck, Theodora.
Sighing, I moved back to the desk and reached for the letter. My hands moved carefully, breaking the seal and sliding the parchment free. I read it, line after line. Then once more.
An invitation.
If I go, I will leave them behind. If I stay, I will become Favian's shadow.
I folded it, tucked it beneath the ledger, and let out a slow breath.
Later.
◇ ◇ ◇
Harmonia Calendar 3715, Thal 21 - Ashspire Estate, Elandor
Noon - Training Yard
The sand was cold beneath my bare feet.
Around me, a square of stone framed the circle of sand, dummies lined the edges, and a rack of swords leaned nearby. I raised my blade. Breathed in, then out.
The instructor's voice came sharp.
"Again."
I set my feet, stepped forward, turned my hip, and let the sword flow through the cut.
Shing.
The blade cut through the air. I drew it back, settling into guard again, shoulders set and breath steady.
It felt good, better than the ones before.
The instructor stepped closer and tapped my blade. His tone softened a fraction.
"Better. You remember corrections. That makes you easy to teach."
I let out a laugh and wiped the sweat off my brow with my sleeve.
"I have to, if I want to become stronger."
His eyes narrowed, though there was a hint of approval.
"Hardworking. That's even better."
Theodora's laugh echoed down from the balcony then, but I kept my eyes forward; if I look, he'd make me run laps again.
"Focus."
The instructor's sharp voice pulled me back, and I bowed my head in apology.
He nodded before tapping my blade again, pointing out the angle of my guard.
"You're late on the recovery. If you open there in front of someone who wants to hurt you, you won't get a second lesson."
I steadied my grip and nodded.
"Yes, sir."
The instructor reached for his own blade and pulled it to show me the correct form before sheathing it.
"Again."
I improved my stance and cut once more.
Shing.
Step. Breath. Cut. Guard. The rhythm drowned everything else until only the clang of steel remained.
His corrections echoed in my head as I moved.
A bit higher here. Faster. Twist the wrist a bit more there. Stronger.
I kept going until my arms trembled and every muscle ached.
Clap.
The sharp sound broke my focus, and I froze mid-swing, almost losing my balance before I caught myself and straightened.
"Enough. That will be it for today. Good focus. Keep it up."
He waved me off, flicking his hand before leaving. I watched his back until he entered the building before letting out a sigh and rolling my tense shoulders.
Step.
The sound of footsteps made me flinch, was he back? My gaze snapped toward the door only to find Theodora there, already waiting for me.
She still wore the green dress from breakfast; the color matched her emerald eyes. Sunlight caught her hazel-brown hair, turning it golden for a moment.
Pretty.
A cloth hung from one of her hands, a cup of water in the other. She smiled, stepped closer, and held out the cup.
"My hero," she teased.
I took it and drank a sip, the water cooled my dry throat before I shook my head.
"Hardly."
Theodora just smiled at me before reaching up and wrapping the cloth around my head. My face was pulled down, toward her height, and a flowery scent washed over me.
Too close.
"Don't argue," she said, narrowing her eyes.
I tried my best to hold my grin back and let her fuss. It was cute, her stern little voice paired with her height, which barely reached my shoulder. But she was too close, my eyes drifted to her lips before I realized it.
"How was it?" I spoke quickly before she could notice my gaze.
Her emerald eyes caught mine as she pulled the cloth back, and her fingers slipped into my hair. She ruffled it, mischief dancing in her eyes, and I leaned into her touch.
"Terrible."
I tilted my head, one brow lifting, and studied her with narrowed eyes.
"Oh, and why?"
She smiled, drew her hand back, then mimicked my swings with exaggerated jerks of her arms, while her face morphed into something absurd.
"Because my hero always makes ugly expressions when he swings his sword."
Heat rushed to my face, and my grip tightened around the cup.
"That's… that's because I have to focus!"
She stepped on her toes and patted my head, just like Mother would, but Theodora wore a too-satisfied, wide grin.
"I know, I know. And I'll still love you even if you look ugly."
My eyes stayed on her lips as she spoke, and the words reached me a beat too late. Heat rushed to my face at once when they finally landed. I turned away quickly, praying she didn't see it.
I have to get away from her.
I crossed the yard, my steps quick, but hers were right behind me, and a moment later she was beside me. Her shoulder brushed mine and stayed there.
Great… She noticed it.
◇ ◇ ◇
Noon - Balcony
From up here, the training yard looked funny, with rings scuffed into the sand, footprints overlapping, and dummies hacked and stabbed until straw spilled from their seams.
In the middle, Adonis moved.
Step, cut, recover.
Step, cut, recover.
The same movement drilled over and over until it looked clean. His shoulders shook with effort, but he never slowed.
Always focused. Always giving his all.
The servants liked him for it.
I'd seen their smiles when he greeted them by name, how he thanked the water boy who fetched him a cup, or bent down to pick up a dropped rag without making a show of it.
Small courtesies added up until they weighed more than favors.
The instructor said something, and Adonis laughed; the sound carried all the way up here. Warm and innocent, but with it, something unruly tugged in my chest.
His head tilted then, and our eyes met. I raised the cloth in my hands like a flag and waved it at him. He turned away, trying to ignore me, but the twitch at the corner of his mouth betrayed him.
Cute.
I pressed the cloth to my lips until my smile faded.
Reality is heavier than a cloth.
Father had already begun to speak with families about… potential matches.
"But if Adonis becomes strong enough… perhaps he could…"
The thought felt foolish, like a child's wish. And yet… I gripped the cloth tighter; my feet were already moving. I turned and ran for the stairs.
◇ ◇ ◇
Noon - Anton's Study
The steward entered again, arms full of papers. He set them down in stacks while I dipped the quill and marked the guest list with practiced strokes.
"Confirm the guild escorts. Add two servers to the west aisle and move the musicians back a pace."
The steward bowed his head.
"Yes, my lord."
I shifted to another paper, signing a flourish at the bottom.
"And send a note to the Valmontis household. A small courtesy."
He bowed lower, then withdrew. The door closed behind him.
I read another report and signed another paper before stopping. Taking a break, I rose and crossed over to the window, pulling the curtains aside. The boy was there, in the training yard, running drills. His sword cut through the air in clean lines.
Something caught my attention then, and I shifted my gaze to the balcony. Theodora was there, leaning against the railing, waving a cloth while watching him.
She still lingers too close. Perhaps…it's time to match him.
I weighed the thought in my mind before letting the curtain fall. I turned back to the desk, dipped the quill once more, and added the final line to the report in clean strokes.
[Presentable for guests.]