As the evening sun sank in the distance, its fading rays cast a warm glow across the quiet study of the Baylith palace.
It was a small, sparsely furnished space with only the bare minimum to make if fitting for a nobles use.
The only sounds left to fill the space was the steady ticking of a grandfather clock and the faint scribbling as a pen's tip glided along a papers surface.
Ferzen's calloused hands moved with the mechanical precision of a senior accountant as he read, signed and sorted the stacks of papers on his desk.
It was only when the grandfather clock chimed, signalling an end to the day's work, that his hands finally slowed down.
He set his pen down, then began neatly sorted the finished documents into three separate stacks.
After he was finished with that, he briefly looked over his desk before pushing his chair back and leaning his head over its lip; staring absently at the steaks of light on the ceiling.
The setting sun cast a warm glow into the study, its light spilling across a tall bookshelf, a small table nestled between an olive–green and brown couch, and the cold stone of the empty fireplace.
Ferzen let his shoulders relax as he settled his weight into the comfortable, velvet padding of the chair.
As his eyes traced the edges of the sunlight, his mind found itself returning to the memory of that afternoon.
Of his son, the tears he had shed, and the promise he had made to his wife.
Ferzen's hand found itself now resting on top of his vest pocket, where he had his pocket watch tucked away.
Its solid casing, warm against his chest, stirred memories of that same garden. Where flowers with prism like petals bloomed.
Not to the time he had been with his son, but earlier. To a time when those beautiful flowers had first sprouted.
Back when this palace felt more like a home to him than the castle, he had spent his entire childhood growing up in.
Ferzen let out a heavy, regret laden sigh into the air.
A lot had changed since then, but something that would remain was the promise he made to his wife—the woman he loved
To protect their son, and his smile.
And although he had slipped up a bit regarding the second one, they were slowly making their way forward.
One step at a time.
Ferzen carefully retrieved the watch from his pocket, holding it in his hand like it was a precious piece of glass.
Her features reflected clearly in his crimson eyes—curly brown hair falling loosely around a composed face, her bright blue eyes sharp with quiet confidence.
She wasn't smiling in the photograph; her lips rested in a faint, almost stubborn line that she had once complained made her look too serious.
But to him, it had always been his favourite picture.
Without the distraction of a smile, her eyes held all the warmth and spirit he had fallen in love with.
Ferzen's thumb brushed lightly across the edge of the photograph.
"Our son is growing up well," he murmured quietly.
The watch snapped shut with a soft click.
Knock. Knock.
Ferzen carefully set the watch down on the table, before responding to the person on the other side of the door.
"Enter."
By the time the words had left his lips, the softness from earlier had vanished. In its place stood the composed authority of the Lord of House Baylith.
An elderly butler stepped into the study; a small tray carrying an envelope in his left hand.
"My Lord." The butler greeted Ferzen with a formal bow.
"Bastion."
"The report from Whitestone arrived today, My lord."
Bastion stepped forward and placed the envelope in the space in front of Ferzen, who made no immediate attempts to check its contents.
"Hm..."
After a moment of consideration, Ferzen finally moved to pick up the envelope. He studies the seals design for a moment, before throwing it like a discarded rage onto the stack of unchecked documents.
He calmly pushed his chair out, then moved to stand before the studies window overlooking the vast the palaces garden.
Ferzen's cold gaze narrowed on the horizon as the sun slipped behind the distant mountains.
"The head of the De Rolos has grown arrogant due to their recent prosperity," he started, eyes never leaving the scenery beyond the window.
"But the price of their disrespect is not one that can be paid in gold."
"What will you have me do, My Lord?" Bastion asked.
"For now... nothing."
Ferzen finally turned to face him, his expression cold and unreadable.
"At least, not until their debt has accumulated into a mountain large enough to bury everything they have built."
He moved toward the study's door.
"So, until that day comes, let them enjoy their fortune," he said calmly. "And remain unaware of what waits for them when it fades."
As he reached for the handle, a soft knock sounded from the other side.
*****
Knock. Knock. Knock.
The unexpected knocking jolted him upright, as he turned his head towards the door so quickly it almost appeared as a blur.
He stared wide eyed at the large door for a moment, before realising where he was— "Right... transmigration."
Thorsten let out a tired sigh, then gently set his pen on the table.
Knock. Knock.
He quickly searched his memories for an appropriate response, before replying with, "Enter, please."
The door was opened by a maid, who bowed slightly before saying, "Dinner is ready, young lord."
"Thank you." Thorsten said, then carefully dismounted his chair.
Taking care not to fall of it, again.
As she silently led him to the dining room, Thorsten's stomach rumbled slightly.
He couldn't help but feel slightly awkward after the face, especially because he couldn't see the reaction of the maid.
'Huh, now that I think about it... I've only eaten once today.' He recalled, choosing to distract himself with the topic of what was for dinner.
When he they reached the door to palaces dining room, the maid smoothly stepped aside and silently dismissed herself after a courteous bow.
Still unfamiliar with his new position, Thorsten couldn't help but unconsciously return her gesture, before he quickly catching himself and standing straight.
'That's going to take a while to get used to.' He thought, brows furrowed slightly as he followed her retreating figure.
Thorsten let out a deep sigh as he massaged his creased brows; fixing his expression and chasing away the brewing headache to the back of his mind, before turning his attention to the dining room doors.
This was the same dining room he had eaten his breakfast, but the idea that Thorsten's family was on the other side of this door made him a little anxious.
He had been lucky to avoid them by missing breakfast as well as not seeing them while he was in-between his room and classes.
One of the reasons he had decided to take a walk outside was to lower his chances of running into them, which ironically, is what led to him seeing Ferzen and Leon's training.
Though, all things considered, the information he gained from that lesson was well worth any sort of discomfort he had felt in interacting with them.
And finally, he had taken a longer, more obscure route to his room to avoid running into anyone from his family.
He had caught a glimpse of Leon's back on the stairs, choosing to pretend he hadn't seen him and continued on his way.
He was still a little worried about how to interact with the rest of Thorsten's family but seeing them at dinner was an inevitability.
Realising this, some earlier attempts at evading them seemed a little excessive and unnecessary.
'Alright, let's get this over with,' he told himself, reaching for the door's handle.
He pushed it open.
"Huh?"
Thorsten froze, staring at the people already seated at the dining table.
Leon sat casually with a knife and fork in hand, in the middle of cutting into the roasted beef on his plate. At the sound of the door, he glanced up—his eyes landing on Thorsten with immediate amusement.
And at the head of the table sat Ferzen, whose crimson eyes looked over his stiff form curiously.
"Youngest, if you keep your mouth open like that, flies might wander in," Leon teased around a half-chewed mouthful.
"Leon." Ferzen's voice cut in, firm but measured.
"Ehem—sorry." Leon dipped his head slightly, though the grin never quite left his face.
Thorsten moved to his seat, shoulders sinking just a little as he sat down.
'So, this entire time… it was just the Ferzen and Leon.'
He couldn't help but feel slightly annoyed with himself, and the fact that he had somehow managed to run into two of the only people he wanted to avoid inside the palace—outside the palace.
Thorsten sighed internally, then started on the meal in front of him; roasted beef, with a side of greens and a sweet sauce.
From there, they quietly ate their dinner.
__________
A/N: Believe it or not, readers, but I'm already 2/5 of the way through with the next chapter, lol.
Though, now it feels like I've jinxed myself with this note... hopefully not.