Lucian spent the rest of the morning in the old room, immersed in a book filled with maps, sketches, and notes.
The maid's voice echoed outside, breaking his concentration. He closed the book and set it aside, taking a moment to stretch his stiff body before heading to the dining room.
As he approached, the comforting scent of roasting vegetables and fresh soup spread through the air.
Mother and Belle were already seated at the neatly arranged table. A steaming bowl of soup sat before each of them, accompanied by a crusty loaf of bread and a plate of crisp greens.
"Lunch smells great," he said, reaching for a slice of bread still warm from the oven.
Mother looked up from her soup just then. She seemed more tired than usual; her cheeks were pale, and shadows lingered beneath her eyes. Concerned, he asked, "Are you all right, Mother? You look tired."
She managed a faint smile. "I'm fine. We were just busy this morning. Nothing for you to worry about."
"I told you, I could help," he said, leaning forward earnestly.
Mother shook her head gently. "No, you can't. Besides, Belle's helping me."
Belle chimed in, her mouth full of food, "It's a surprise! You're going to like it!" She giggled, her mischievous eyes gleaming.
Before he could retort further, Mother added, "By the way, you're coming with us to LuLu's School."
"Do I have to?" he groaned, already dreading the idea.
Mother's eyes lit up. "Of course. It was your idea, remember? You said you wanted to help more children learn."
"Yeah, go talk to someone for once," Belle teased.
"Shut up," he muttered, rolling his eyes. With a sigh, he added, "Fine, just let me know when."
Mother beamed. "Perfect."
Most families couldn't afford academy tuition, leaving many children without an education. That was why he had proposed the school. Though not a full academy, it was more like a Sunday class where children could learn basic subjects and get a meal. Turning an abandoned building into something useful seemed like a small thing.
Their conversation shifted as Mother glanced toward the window. "I heard you met our guests today," she said.
He nodded, swallowing another spoonful of soup. "Yeah. They're from the Red Corps."
Belle's eyes brightened. "They're strong. Did you see how they looked?"
He smiled. "I did. I hope they sort everything out quickly so Father can attend tomorrow."
Mother's brow furrowed. "Yeah, I also hope so." There was a flicker of worry in her eyes that she quickly tried to hide.
Belle sat up straighter, pride shining in her features. "Don't worry! Father is superhuman. He'll be fine."
"Oh," Mother said. "Your father told me about something new arriving from the capital. A carriage unlike anything we've seen here."
Belle leaned forward immediately. "New? What kind?"
"It doesn't use horses," Mother said softly, as if sharing a secret. "They say it runs on heat pressure, with some sort of engine that pushes it forward."
Lucian blinked. "A car?" he murmured without thinking.
Both paused. "Car?" they echoed.
"It's nothing. Just a thought," he said quickly, looking away. "Where did it come from?"
Mother continued, "It was imported from the United Fort of Orian. Aside from that, not much is known yet."
Belle nodded eagerly. "I want to ride it first."
Mother smirked. "We'll see."
They continued chatting as they finished their meal. The warmth of it lingered even after they departed for the venue and left him alone with his thoughts. Even in a house like this, surrounded by love and simple comforts, something inside him remained unsettled.
The memories of his past life still clung to the edges of his mind like smoke that refused to fade.
. . .
Meanwhile, in a dimly lit outpost just outside Linberg, Luke sat quietly at his desk. Maps and reports lay spread before him, their edges curling in the flickering lamplight.
A soft hum rose from the square communication device on the desk. The blue stone set in its frame began to glow faintly before a crackling voice came through.
"My lord, we've confirmed unusual activity at three target locations. The hunters have gathered enough evidence of illegal operations. There's a strong chance these individuals belong to the Demon Faction."
Luke's fingers hovered over a document. "Order the hunters to fall back and set up a perimeter around each location. They must not engage unless attacked first."
"Understood."
The device flickered again. Another voice: "Lord, the Red Corps has boarded the ship with over one hundred troops, just as you ordered."
"Good. Report to me immediately if they make contact."
"Yes, my lord."
Luke leaned back in his chair, letting out a slow breath. Of the five locations identified, three were already confirmed. The mission was progressing well, yet the weight of what lay ahead pressed heavily on his mind.
Lucian's notes had been especially helpful. Their precision had impressed him.
"Almost exactly what my officers suggested," he murmured. "Maybe even better."
He rubbed a hand across his face.
A year ago, Lucian had finally asked for the old study room. Luke had known it was coming. Lucian had been eyeing that door since he was old enough to walk, but Arian would not allow it. So, Luke found a way that was fair to everyone and gave Lucian work to earn it. He had expected him to give up. Instead, Lucian seemed to enjoy it, and by the end of it there was the first school in Linberg.
Lucian had always been different. Unlike his older sister, he never cried as a child. He only watched others. As he grew up, he made no friends and preferred reading alone. Luke had sometimes worried about that. But Lucian kept showing ideas that no child could gain from reading alone. Something that would draw attention he wasn't sure Lucian was ready for.
Luke understood what being different could lead to. Not honor or fame. Just a pawn in a bigger game. A single decision had cost him the life he was born into. Though that decision had led him here, and he had no regrets.
He just hoped Lucian would never have to make that choice.
"Perhaps a blessed child," he whispered, though the words carried more worry than joy.
A knock pulled him from his thoughts. Tyrion stepped in. "My lord, the troops are ready. Two hundred guards and awakened await your command."
Luke handed him a stack of papers. "Give these plans to the officers. Make sure every man understands the orders. We will move soon."
Tyrion nodded. "Understood."
After he left, Luke walked outside. The late afternoon sun cast a warm golden light over the outpost. Soldiers stood waiting, focused, disciplined.
He scanned their faces and raised his voice.
"As you know, there are those who have entered our land. Pests hide in the shadows, running illegal operations and spreading corruption. It is our duty to stop them. We serve as the sword and shield of our Mighty Sovereign."
A breath. A tightening in his chest.
"Spare no one who stands against us."
He paused.
"Kill them all."
. . .
Lucian sat in the old study room, reading while wondering how the operation was going. His eyes drifted to the courtyard.
Beyond the window, the estate was growing livelier. Guest carriages had begun to arrive, some marked with family crests, their lanterns glowing in the dimming light. Servants hurried to greet them, guiding each one toward the front steps.
A knock came at the door.
"Lucy. Mother's waiting," Belle called, her voice bright.
He stood and took one last look in the mirror, adjusting the clothes Mother had picked for him. A white shirt pressed neatly against his frame, a charcoal vest lined with faint silver patterns, and a black coat with dark red trim.
Belle waited in the hall wearing a lavender dress tied with a white ribbon at the back. Her cheeks were slightly flushed from excitement.
"Come on, hurry," she said, tugging his sleeve.
They walked together until they reached Mother. She wore a deep green gown that matched her eyes, her hair pinned up neatly with a silver clasp. She turned the moment she heard them.
"Are you ready?" Mother asked with a soft smile. She held a small black box in both hands and offered it to him. "Here. Before the party starts."
"Open it!" Belle urged immediately, leaning forward.
He lifted the lid.
"A knife?" he said.
Inside lay a small, polished blade resting on a folded cloth. The metal had a clean silver finish, and the handle was carved smoothly with a narrow crimson gem embedded at the end. Compact. Simple. Almost like the pocketknives from his previous life.
Mother exhaled softly. "I didn't like the idea at first. But Belle saw the sketches you made, and she found the wooden copy you carved, so she insisted we make something similar. She thought you would appreciate it. So." She paused. "Happy birthday, Lucy."
"Do you like it?" Belle asked, leaning closer.
He didn't answer right away. He lifted the knife carefully from the cloth, turned it once in his hand, and felt the weight of it settle against his palm. His thumb ran along the handle, stopping at the small gem at the end.
He closed his fingers around it.
"I love it," he said quietly.
Belle grinned. "See?"
Mother brushed his shoulder gently. "Then let's go. The guests are already arriving."
He closed the box and followed them down the hall, the knife still in his hand. He didn't put it in his pocket until they reached the door.