It did not matter why it revealed things only now, or how it seemed to know the order of his path. In time, it would all be laid bare. And if not—then he would force the answer when it chose to stand before him.
For now, the knowledge was enough.
One more herb. One more trail to follow.
The last herb would come the same way.
When he was close enough to it.
He slipped the book aside, his expression unchanging, and reached for his cup. The room was steady again, the faint murmur of the children behind him blending into the quiet.
---
They all were sitting at the table. The table was big, filled with beautiful dishes, and they didn't even know where to start. Elias just chuckled softly, then began cutting the food and handing it to each of them, one by one.
"Ladies first," he said as he placed a portion in front of Leya. Then he passed some to Elen, and finally to Lucien. The meat was finely cut, neat and delicate, as though handled with care.
"Wow, you can even cut this fine with a blindfold on your eyes," Elen blurted.
"Stop being like that, Elen," Leya scolded him gently.
"Of course I can," Elias said calmly. "I'm a genius, after all."
Lucien smiled faintly at that, and the dinner carried on, warm, sweet, and strangely gentle. The children ate happily.
"There, there, Elen. Chew it properly, it will be easier to digest that way," Elias said.
Elen just gave a ghostly smile. "Ah, sorry. I was just being impatient."
That single word made Elias pause. Impatient… stop being impatient, he thought.
That single word made Elias pause. Impatient… stop being impatient, he thought. The word hit something inside him, and for a moment, he felt as if the book was mocking him again. But what if… what if that was the clue? His mind wandered, connecting fragments together.
"Ahem, Elias?"
Lucien and the children were watching him curiously.
"Oh, nothing much," he brushed it off, though a smile threatened to tug at his lips. Damn, I'm such an idiot, he thought.
The dinner went on warm and lively. The butler and clients who watched from the side looked at them as though they were witnessing a family long lost but now reunited. The servants, too, were quietly overjoyed—finally seeing their master not as distant or burdened, but sitting there at peace.
"You're not going anywhere now, right?" Hema asked when dessert was brought.
Elias laughed lightly. "Yeah, yeah, I'm not…" He paused. "Or maybe I am, too."
That earned laughter from everyone, teasing remarks and playful jokes echoing across the hall. Even the knights standing guard weren't like cold statues tonight—they felt alive, like warm people sharing in something they had all longed for.
---
After dinner, when the house had gone quiet and everyone had drifted off to sleep, Elias tugged the children along, following them to their room.
The kids had already changed, wrapped in soft clothes that felt almost too soft against their skin. They clambered onto their separate beds while Elias just stood there, unsure which one to sit at.
Leya shifted, making space beside her. Elen brushed his blanket aside a little, as if silently offering room too. Lucien, meanwhile, didn't move much—yet his look carried a quiet acceptance, like he wouldn't mind if Elias sat near him either.
Elias chuckled at himself.
"Why not I make you three a single bed? That will be easier for me, won't it?"
The three of them exchanged glances. "We don't mind," Elen answered for all of them.
Then, with a flick of his hand, as though it were nothing but a trick between magic and clever craft, the three single beds merged into one larger bed.
"How did you do that, Elias?" Leya whispered, wide-eyed.
"Well," he smirked faintly, "magic plus a little engineering can do a lot of great things."
He sat down in front of them now, close enough to feel the warmth of their little world.
"So… do you want a story tonight? Or are you too tired for that?"
"We are not," Elen said quickly, though his heavy eyelids betrayed him.
Elias softened. "Well, well… then I'll tell you the story next time."
The children didn't protest further. Their breathing slowed, one by one slipping into sleep. Elias bent forward, brushing his hand gently over their hair, kissing each forehead in turn.
They didn't show much reaction—pretending as if it didn't matter—but deep down, it was clear. It was nice to be treated this way.
"Don't worry," Elias whispered, so low it almost disappeared in the night. "I'll spoil you more soon. But for now, sleep."
When their breathing evened, Elias rose and left.
The gentleness on his face smoothed away like a mask being discarded.
---
His steps carried him to the backyard, where an old stone hatch yawned open.
His impatience gnawed—he wanted to search for the next clue, to stop wasting time.
But before that… there was something else.
Crossing the backyard, he descended into the basement. The air was heavy there, cruel and damp.
"First," he muttered to himself, "I should take care of this mess, shouldn't I?"
The rescued guards sat bound in corners, gagged, some trembling, some glaring with hatred. Their uniforms were torn, their wrists rubbed raw by rope.
Elias crouched before one, his expression calm but eyes unreadable. "You should be dead already. You know that. But I'm feeling… patient."
The man spat blood at his feet. Elias didn't even flinch—only reached for a rusted tool lying forgotten on a shelf, weighing it thoughtfully in his hand.
"I don't need everything," Elias said in a conversational tone. "Only one thing. Who controls you? Who gave the orders at the lab?"
Silence. Only the drip of water from the ceiling.
Elias pressed the edge of the tool against the man's wrist—not deep, just enough to make the veins quiver. The guard hissed. Another guard broke first.
"Not… him," the second whispered hoarsely, his voice cracking. "The one in white. He's not the head. He answers… he answers to someone else."
Elias's gaze sharpened. "Someone else."
The man nodded frantically, shivering. "We only knew him as 'the Mastermind.' Never saw his face. Orders came sealed. The man in white obeyed them… same as us."
Elias leaned back, as if satisfied. "So the man in white isn't the root. Just a chain. Good."
The guard slumped, half in relief, half in dread.
Elias set the tool aside, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "Thank you for the clue. Now you understand… why I keep you alive. For now."
He rose, the lamplight throwing his shadow tall against the stone wall, and the basement swallowed the silence again.
---
Elias came back from the basement, the stench clinging to him like a leech latching onto a hare.
He sighed—he hd to shower now again, but what can he even do beside it.
After 15 minutes:-
He washed himself clean, the water cooling his skin.
He now wore a silk robe that slipped from his shoulders, its loose knot barely holding around his narrow waist.