Even as the sun struggled to rise behind a wall of thick gray clouds, the rain showed no sign of stopping. Thunder still rolled across the region, one crash exploding so violently it felt as though lightning had struck right outside his window. Edric jolted awake, heart racing.
'What the—'
He wanted to sit up, to pull back the curtains and look outisde, but his body refused. The first moments after waking were always the worst—his limbs heavy as wet stone, muscles locked in silent rebellion. No matter how fiercely his mind commanded movement, nothing happened. He lay helpless in the vast king-size bed, listening to the storm rage on, waiting for the temporary paralysis to pass.
It never lasted long. Five minutes. Ten at most. Still, there was no denying how miserable it was. He would have traded every marble wall and golden chandelier in the mansion to be free of this curse. But no cure existed. He had tried everything: the finest pills, rare herbs smuggled from distant lands, experimental treatments, invasive surgeries. He had even consulted people whose powers had been awakened to the concept of healing, yet nothing had worked.
In the end, this was his life. Until the day it ended.
'Such a tragic story…' he thought with bitter irony.
Before he realized it, the heavy velvet curtains parted with a soft whisper of rings on brass.
"…Can you please stop entering without knocking? What if I was changing?"
Once again Tina had slipped in like a shadow, silent as a cat on velvet paws. She stood beside the bed, honey-gold eyes still gently closed, a faint, affectionate smile touching her lips.
"Ara, but I did knock," she replied softly.
'Like hell you did…'
Arguing was pointless. This habit of hers had persisted for as long as Edric could remember, and it wasn't about to change now.
"What time is it?" he asked instead.
"Past noon."
"That late…" Edric murmured. Oversleeping wasn't like him. Yesterday had been nothing unusual—just a short walk through the forest before the downpour began. Could that small effort have cost him so much?
"Can you move yet, sir?" Tina asked, stepping closer.
"Just a finger," he answered, wiggling the digit with exaggerated flair. "Give me a few more minutes."
She nodded and settled gracefully at his side. Minutes passed in comfortable silence. Neither of them was much for idle talk, so their quiet moments always felt peaceful rather than awkward. When strength finally returned to his limbs, Edric pushed himself upright and swung his legs over the edge of the mattress.
Tina moved with practiced care, gently removing the IV needle that had delivered the nightly serum into his vein and offering her arm for support as he stood.
"Oh, right," he said, reaching for his cane with his still-trembling left hand. "What about our guests from last night? Any news?"
"They're… adorable," Tina replied as she laid out his clothes: a sleek solid-black blazer, matching trousers, and polished dress shoes—far more formal than his usual attire. "Two little girls. Eleven and eight years old. Sisters, they said. They ran away from home and were heading north. They wouldn't explain why, or exactly where they were going… but it isn't hard to guess."
"I see." Edric made his way toward the bathroom, the cane tapping dully against the thick carpet. "You think they simply stumbled upon this mansion on their way to the capital?"
"I'm not certain," she said, "but it seems the most probable explanation."
"If that's what you think, then it must be true." Edric trusted Tina's judgment completely. She possessed an uncanny sixth sense—especially when it came to identifying those sent to kill him. If she believed the two little girls were simply lost travelers who had wandered into his home, then that was precisely what they were.
Edric closed the bathroom door behind him. Inside, he followed his familiar routine: a quick, steaming shower to chase away the last traces of stiffness, brushing his teeth, and dressing in the formal outfit Tina had chosen.
'Do I have an appointment today?' he wondered, adjusting the blazer in the mirror. He doesn't usually forget things, his mind being the only thing not affected by his disease, so if he didn't remember it then it can only mean one thing…
He stepped out of the bathroom, adjusting the cuffs of his formal black blazer, but his expression had darkened. The formal attire suddenly made perfect, unwelcome sense.
"So it's today…?"
Tina knelt before the fireplace, gently prodding the glowing embers with a poker. Without turning around, she nodded.
"If you mean the meeting with your family, then yes."
Edric let out a long, weary sigh. His aversion to his relatives ran bone-deep. He had trained himself to mentally erase any reminder of them—including these recurring obligations. It was probably a habit he should break, but some wounds refused to fade.
"When do we leave?"
Tina rose gracefully and turned to face him. She studied him from head to toe, one finger resting thoughtfully on her chin, then gave a satisfied nod.
"Late afternoon."
"Hm." Edric lowered himself carefully into his favorite armchair. "Anyway… when is breakfast?"
Tina arched an elegant eyebrow.
"You mean lunch, sir."
"Oh. Right." He had barely sat down…
***
The mansion was enormous—closer to a palace than a private home, though anyone who had visited the true royal seat would have called it modest at best. It was, in fact, the smallest estate in his family's holdings.
It was also painfully empty.
Not of fine furniture or glittering chandeliers, but of life. When his mother had been alive, the halls had echoed with laughter and warmth. A vibrant sea of crimson roses had bloomed in the front gardens under her devoted care, and the back orchard had hung heavy with fruit from the trees she tended with such loving hands. Now those gardens had grown wild, and only Tina and Galleon remained to maintain the vast, echoing silence.
For Edric, the solitude was not entirely unwelcome. He still marveled at how Tina kept every surface immaculate despite the endless rooms, and how Galleon single-handedly managed the finances, supplies, and endless maintenance. It was not laziness on his part, nor entirely his illness. It stemmed from the family's ancient decree: "No descendant may claim authority over their domain until they have awakened."
Because he had not yet awakened, he remained powerless here—while every other member of his family ruled their respective regions.
What "awakening" truly meant… was a conversation for another day.
Soon Tina returned with his meal. Seated alone at the long dining table that could easily seat thirty, Edric watched her approach with a silver tray. Even beneath the lid, the rich aroma of roasted beef made his mouth water.
She set the tray before him and lifted the cover. Perfectly seared beef, fresh salad, fluffy eggs, and fragrant rice. Without thinking, he began to salivate.
Before he picked up his utensils, he glanced up. "Have you already eaten?"
"Of course."
"And Galleon?"
"As well."
"Hm…" He stared down the length of the table at the dozens of empty chairs. Eating alone in this cavernous room always twisted something inside his chest. But it was his own fault for sleeping so late.
Eating had become its own quiet battle. His right hand held the fork steady while his trembling left hand wielded the knife. He had cut himself more times than he cared to remember before mastering this careful, deliberate rhythm. Today he managed without incident, though each bite still took far longer than it should have.
When he finally finished, Edric leaned back, one hand resting on his full stomach.
"All this food got me a little sleepy…"
"Haven't you slept enough already?" Tina asked as she cleared the plates.
"Maybe." He pushed himself upright with his cane. As he stood, his left leg bumped hard against the chair. He felt nothing—no pain, no jolt, no sensation at all. The limb had been partially paralyzed for months now, growing steadily worse. He barely registered the impact.
"Where is Galleon?"
"He's with the two girls. Someone has to keep an eye on children that young."
"I see." Edric suddenly stiffened. "Wait… that means you'll be driving me?"
Tina had turned toward the kitchen but paused mid-step. She glanced back over her shoulder, a small, mischievous smile curving her lips.
"Do you have a problem with that… sir?"
Edric swallowed hard.
"No. Not at all."