I 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 my concentration. I closed the book and set it aside, taking a moment to stretch my stiff body before heading to the dining room.
As I 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. Sliding into the chair across from Belle.
"Dinner smells great," I 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, I 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," I 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 I could retort further, Mother added, "By the way, you're coming with us to Lulu's School."
"Do I have to?" I 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," Isabelle teased with a mouthful of food.
"Shut up," I muttered, rolling my eyes. With a sigh, I added, "Fine, just let me know when."
Mother beamed. "Perfect."
Most families couldn't afford academy tuition, leaving many children without an education. That's why I proposed creating a school. More like a Sunday school to give more children a chance to learn basic subjects and eventually contribute to society. Turning an abandoned building into a classroom seemed like a simple but important way to help.
As our conversation shifted, Mother glanced toward the window. "I heard you met our guests today," she said.
I 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?"
I 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."
Mother spoke, eager to shift the conversation away from worry. "Oh. 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."
I blinked. "A car?" I murmured without thinking.
Both paused. "Car?" they echoed.
"I-it's nothing. Just a thought," I 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."
We continued chatting as we finished our meal. The warmth of their company lingered even as they departed for the venue, leaving me alone with my thoughts. Even here, surrounded by love and simple comforts, something inside me remained unsettled.
The memories of my past life still clung to the edges of my mind like smoke that refused to fade. I wondered, is this really where I'm meant to be?
…
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 light of a nearby stone lamp.
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, his eyes narrowing with calculation. He spoke with calm authority, "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 impressed him.
"Almost exactly what my officers suggested," he murmured. "Maybe even better."
He rubbed a hand across his face. Lucian had always been different. Unlike his older sister, he never cried as a child. Lucian only watched and observed his surroundings. As he grew older, he made few friends and preferred reading alone.
Luke sometimes worried about his son's behavior, but his maturity was undeniable.
Luke had once been criticized for turning down the Church's offer of power. He had left behind legacy and influence to live a quieter life here. But as a husband and father, he held no regrets.
"Perhaps a blessed child," he whispered, the words faint.
A knock pulled him from his thoughts. Tyrion stepped in. "My lord, the troops are ready. Three hundred knights stand prepared and await your command."
Luke handed him a stack of papers. "Give these plans to the officers. Make sure every man understands the orders. We 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 hiding 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."
A final pause.
"Kill them all."
…
I sat in the old study room, reading while wondering how the operation was going.
My 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.
I stood and took one last look in the mirror, adjusting the clothes Mother had picked for me. A white shirt pressed neatly against my 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 my sleeve.
We walked together until we 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 us.
"Are you ready?" Mother asked with a soft smile. She held a small black box in both hands and offered it to me. "Here. Before the party starts."
"Open it!" Belle urged immediately, leaning forward.
I lifted the lid.
"A knife?" I said, confused.
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 my previous life.
Mother exhaled softly and admitted, "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… happy birthday, Lucy."
"Do you like it?" Belle asked, leaning closer, waiting for my reply.
For a moment, I didn't say anything. My chest tightened. A mix of gratitude and something warmer I couldn't name.
"I… love it," I said quietly.
Belle's smirk widened. "See?"
Mother brushed my shoulder gently. "Then let's go. The guests are already arriving."
I closed the box carefully and followed them, feeling the faint weight of the gift in my hands.
It was simple, but special in a way I couldn't describe.