A new day dawned, and for Lucian, the routine was painfully familiar. Woken earlier than he wanted, he dragged himself out of bed, bathed, and made his way to the dining hall.
Just like always, he entered late. His family was already seated, their utensils clattering softly against porcelain. No one spoke—silence hung heavy in the air, broken only by the sounds of breakfast.
It was Duke Edric Merrick who shattered that silence first.
"Garrick," his father said, voice even and commanding. "How are the preparations coming along? What's the status?"
Garrick, sitting tall and composed, answered without hesitation. "I will be meeting with Her Highness in three hours."
Lucian's eyes narrowed slightly. His brother's tone carried confidence—very different from yesterday's unease.
Did the princess actually agree to the marriage?
"Good," Edric replied with a firm nod. "Do not tarnish our house's name."
"Yes, Father." Garrick's posture straightened even more, the perfect image of a noble heir.
Then Edric's gaze shifted. Cold, sharp, and unwavering, it landed on his youngest son.
"And you, Lucian."
Lucian, who had been quietly working on his bread, froze. "Me?"
"You would do well not to tarnish our family name either," Edric said, his tone brooking no argument.
Lucian blinked, confused. "Excuse me? What do you mean?"
"Just follow your brother's lead. Do as he says. You will be accompanying him, and when you stand before Her Highness, act with propriety. Do not mistake your status as her classmate as a reason to act too familiar."
Lucian stared at his father, utterly baffled.
Did he just say… accompany Garrick? On his date with the princess? What the hell is going on?
"But Father, why would I—"
"Do not question me." Edric's tone sharpened like a blade. "Do as I say. This is important for our house, and for the kingdom. Be at your best."
The weight of authority pressed down. Lucian clenched his teeth but forced himself to nod silently. The Duke turned his attention to Elaine, who spoke cheerfully, her earlier anger from the night before now gone as though it had never existed.
Did they cancel her marriage proposal? Lucian wondered, but said nothing.
The rest of the meal passed in muted clatter. When it ended, Lucian returned to his chambers, Garrick reminding him to be at the carriage in fifteen minutes.
He changed clothes mechanically, his thoughts still tangled.
Why would Father want me to tag along on Garrick's meeting with the princess? Why would Garrick even agree to it?
None of it made sense. But orders from the Duke weren't optional.
By the time he joined his brother at the carriage, he had resigned himself. The two climbed inside, silence thick between them as the horses pulled them through the familiar roads toward the capital.
It was Garrick who broke the silence first.
"Listen," he said firmly, "don't talk nonsense in front of the princess. And don't you dare act close with her."
Lucian narrowed his eyes. "Why would I—"
"Because Father ordered it," Garrick cut him off with a glare.
Lucian turned toward the window, jaw tight. "…Fine."
The rest of the ride was spent in silence, though Lucian's mind churned with unanswered questions.
When the towering spires of the capital finally came into view, Lucian felt no excitement. The carriage rolled to a stop amidst the bustling streets. Before Lucian could step out, Garrick blocked his way with an arm.
"Spend one hour however you want. Don't follow me. After that, meet me at the entrance of the imperial palace."
With that, Garrick disappeared into the crowd, leaving Lucian standing alone.
Lucian exhaled a heavy sigh. "Knew it. No way he was going to let me tag along with the princess."
He shrugged it off and stepped into the street.
Not like I care anyway.
Still, he couldn't shake the restlessness gnawing at him.
Maybe I should check on Derek and Elaida, now that I'm here. At least I can gather some information.
His steps quickened. Hands tucked into his pockets, he navigated the crowded avenues with practiced ease. At first, nothing seemed unusual. Merchants shouted, customers haggled, children darted between stalls. Life as always.
Then it hit him.
He stopped dead in his tracks, heart tightening. His gaze swept the crowd once more, slower this time.
Everyone was human.
Men, women, children, elders—all of them human.
At first, it didn't seem strange. After all, he was in the human empire. But at this age, it was unheard of for a capital city to have only humans. Elves, dwarves, and even demons usually mingled freely, whether as merchants, travelers, or citizens. To see none at all was… wrong.
Did the other races have some kind of festival? Or gathering? His brow furrowed deeper. No… that doesn't explain this. Something's off.
He quickened his pace toward Derek's shop, unease building with every step.
The market district came into view, familiar rows of storefronts. He counted automatically. First shop, second, third, fourth—fifth. He pushed the door open, expecting the faint scent of soot and the gruff voice of a dwarf complaining about customers.
Instead, silence.
The shop looked… different. Newly renovated, polished, almost pristine. Not Derek's style at all.
Lucian rang the bell, waiting. Footsteps approached.
A man appeared—a human man.
"How may I help—" He froze mid-sentence, eyes widening. Then he bowed deeply. "Lord Merrick! What an honor! How may I serve you?"
Lucian's stomach dropped. "Where's Derek?" he asked sharply.
The man blinked. "Derek? I am Marco, my lord."
Lucian's brows drew together.
"Where did the dwarf go?" He muttered.
Marco tilted his head, uncertain. "Dwarf? Ah—perhaps you mean the stock? We recently pillaged a fine haul of dwarven weapons, sir. The quality is excellent, I assure you."
"…Pillage?" Lucian's voice was a whisper, disbelief seeping in.
"Yes, my lord!" Marco brightened. "Last week's raid was most fruitful. If you'd like, I can show you—"
But Lucian was already gone, dashing out of the shop.
The sign above the door caught his eye, freezing him in place. "Queen's Favor," it read. Not Derek's forge. Not anything he recognized.
His heartbeat roared in his ears.
This isn't the same place. It can't be.
He ran, legs carrying him on instinct, toward his next destination. Elaida's elf temple.
Only—it wasn't there.
In its place stood a quaint café, humans laughing and sipping tea behind the glass.
Lucian stumbled back. His breath hitched. "W-What…?"
He turned sharply, darting into an alleyway, chasing his last hope—Demon's pleasure house. But where it should have been stood nothing. Just a dead end, littered with beggars and drunkards. Humans. Only humans.
His knees buckled. He crashed to the cobblestones, gasping, eyes wide. The world blurred around him. His hands trembled as he clutched his head.
Everything he knew was gone.
The word slipped out, hoarse and broken, echoing faintly through the alleyway.
"What the… fuck?"