"I get it!"
Lux's face lit up with sudden realization. This time, she truly understood.
Hearing it explained like that, she felt like she was only one step away from mastering the sixth sense!
At that moment, those big eyes of hers were filled with fighting spirit.
Once she got home, she was absolutely going to try it.
Kahina wasn't nearly as hyped. She felt like something was off, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it.
At first, it had sounded pretty reasonable.
But the further it went… the more it started to feel kind of… unreliable.
And after Lux's "case study," Kahina couldn't shake the feeling that when this prince talked, ten parts of it came with five parts you couldn't trust.
She forced herself to calm down and decided not to think about it anymore.
As for Lux—seeing how excited her best friend was—Kahina ultimately chose to stay silent.
"Found you, found you!"
A familiar voice rang out again.
They looked up to see Jarvan IV walking over with a broad smile, looking like he was in an excellent mood.
Behind him was a short-haired man who wasn't any shorter than him, built solidly, with a face as sharp and steadfast as a minted coin—handsome, too.
Luke recognized him instantly. The silhouette was iconic.
The Might of Demacia—Garen!
A real, no-nonsense Demacian man.
The moment Lux saw him, a big chunk of her excitement evaporated, and she sat back down.
"Let me introduce you," Jarvan IV said warmly to Luke. "This is Garen Crownguard—my good friend."
Then he leaned in closer to Luke, smug as could be. "Garen, this is my brother. Well? Way more handsome than you, right?"
Just like last time, he really did have to show off a little.
Garen ignored him completely, raising his right fist to his chest in a formal salute. "Second Prince. A pleasure to meet you."
"Hello." Luke stood, smiling as he offered his hand.
Garen lifted his head, reached out, and shook it.
"Alright, that's all. Just wanted you two to meet first. You keep chatting—we're out." Jarvan IV had a good sense for timing. Seeing his brother happily talking with the two girls, he pulled Garen along to leave.
Before he went, Garen glanced at Lux and the faint evidence of annihilated desserts on the table in front of her, then reminded her, "Don't forget Mother told you to eat fewer sweets. Don't be like last time—"
"Thank you for your unnecessary concern. Goodbye!" Lux cut him off immediately with a radiant smile and a swift farewell.
Garen didn't say anything else. His expression remained stern and composed as ever, and he followed Jarvan IV away.
"Last time? What happened last time?" Luke couldn't help getting curious.
Lux and Garen were siblings, but their relationship looked visibly terrible.
"Knowing won't do you any good." Lux picked up her silver-glinting fork—an invisible threat.
Luke heard that and instantly knew it had to be Miss Crownguard's embarrassing history.
So he decided not to ask openly.
Later, when he got the chance, he'd ask Garen in private.
He loved hearing other people's embarrassing stories.
Just then, the lights in the hall dimmed, with most of the illumination focusing on a single spot.
Luke followed the bright pool of light—and saw a blue-haired woman seated on a chair, her figure graceful and elegant. Her long blue hair fell naturally down over her full waistline, and her stunning beauty carried a poised, refined nobility.
She wore a classic aqua-blue dress, and in her arms was an instrument that was unmistakably Ionian in style—an etwahl.
Simply sitting there, she looked exquisitely unreal, like a fairy stepped out of a painting.
Maven of the Strings—Sona!
The hall fell quiet almost without anyone realizing it.
Sona lifted a pale hand and gently placed it on the strings. The next moment, a beautiful melody flowed out.
A solo performance.
Yet with only that single instrument, every note seemed to land directly on each listener's heartstrings.
It made people feel refreshed, at ease, and strangely weightless.
Luke listened in silence. Sona's command of her music matched everything he knew—on all of Runeterra, she was the kind of existence that sat at the very top.
It really was incredible.
So this was the gift Barrett had prepared for him?
Sona was Kahina's older sister, and Barrett's daughter. In Demacia, she was regarded as a musician whose performance was impossible to buy—no matter the price.
Countless people were captivated by her music. Some nobles offered fortunes just to hear her play a single piece, and still were refused.
Because House Buvelle had never lacked money—and every one of Sona's performances depended entirely on her mood.
She didn't choose her audience. Street kids, butchers selling pork, self-important scholars and refined artists…
In her eyes, they were all the same.
When the piece ended, the audience remained immersed in the afterglow of that music. It took several seconds before people slowly came back to themselves.
Then applause erupted, filling the entire hall.
"No matter how many times I hear it, it's still unbelievably good." Lux clapped enthusiastically, sighing with emotion.
Kahina smiled, genuinely happy. Every time she saw Sona praised, it made her happy.
The lights returned to normal.
Sona rose and walked toward Luke with light, elegant steps. When she reached them, she hugged the etwahl close and dipped into a slight bow—a courteous greeting.
But no sound came from her lips.
Because ever since she was little, Sona had been unable to speak. She was born mute.
Still, Luke knew—if she had a voice, it would be as moving as her music.
He smiled and said, "Hello, Miss Sona."
Sona lifted her head. Her eyes, like clear water, curved in a gentle smile. She signed two quick gestures toward Kahina.
"Kahina says my sister is wishing Your Highness a happy day, and she'll be leaving first," Kahina translated.
"Safe travels," Luke replied, seeing her off.
Sona bowed lightly once more, then turned and walked away.
Luke watched her retreating figure and thought that maybe he wasn't some chosen one after all.
Only he knew—Sona seemed to be able to speak, but no one had ever been able to hear her voice.
For a split second earlier, Luke had thought… maybe he could.
Now it seemed he was out of luck too.
"My sister doesn't like crowded places when she's not performing," Kahina explained softly.
Luke nodded. If she disliked crowds, it was probably because in crowded places, there were simply too many sounds—too much noise.
He turned his head—
and didn't notice that Sona, nearly out of the hall, paused, turned back, and tilted her head, studying Luke's back with faint curiosity.
"Right—what were we talking about again?" Lux suddenly remembered.
Kahina thought for a moment. "The sixth-sense training, I think."
Lux asked, "Are you busy tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow's my day off," Kahina answered.
"Great. Tomorrow we meet at His Highness's place—nine in the morning!" Lux decided instantly.
Luke nodded and didn't refuse. He had a feeling tomorrow would be interesting.
Just then, he noticed someone on the other side of the hall—standing alone, giving off an unapproachable, icy elegance.
The Grand Duelist—Fiora!
She happened to raise her head. Her cool, clear eyes met Luke's.
The next moment, she only gave a small nod in greeting, then looked away again.
Cold. Very cold.
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