Three weeks had passed since Sir Gareth began Celia's formal sword training, and I'd settled into a comfortable routine of self-directed practice. Without the constraints of formal lessons, I could explore the integration of this world's mana system with my previous life's techniques at my own pace.
The morning sun cast long shadows across the estate's gardens as I made my way to the library, my favorite retreat for studying magical theory. The crystal-embedded walls provided perfect lighting for reading, and the silence allowed me to focus on understanding this world's power systems.
'The stability of mana here continues to fascinate me,' I mused, flipping through a tome on aura manipulation techniques. Where Tower-introduced mana had been more chaotic and unpredictable, here it flowed like a gentle river, ready to be guided rather than wrestled into submission.
The soft patter of footsteps interrupted my reading. I looked up to see Celia entering the library, her silver hair slightly disheveled and her practice clothes bearing traces of the training courtyard's dust.
"How did your lesson go?" I asked, setting down my book as she approached.
"Good! Sir Gareth taught me a new defensive stance today," she replied, though there was something quietly tired in her voice. "He says I'm improving steadily."
She settled into the chair beside me, and I noticed she seemed more subdued than usual—not upset, exactly, but perhaps a bit worn down from the intensive training regimen.
"Learning can be exhausting," I offered. "Especially when you're working hard to master the fundamentals."
"Mmm," she agreed, then brightened as she leaned over to peek at my book. "What are you reading? More magical theory?"
I closed the tome and stood up. "Actually, I was thinking we could do something more interesting. Want to explore the estate's maze again? I heard the gardeners finished adding new sections."
Her face lit up with genuine excitement. "Really? The hedge maze? I've been wanting to see the changes they made!"
"Race you there," I said with a grin, and she was off like a shot, her earlier fatigue forgotten in the prospect of adventure.
The hedge maze had indeed been expanded since our last visit. New paths wound through towering green walls, creating a labyrinth that could easily confuse even adults. Celia darted ahead with renewed energy, her laughter echoing off the carefully manicured walls as she tested different routes.
"This way leads to a dead end," she called from somewhere to my left. "But there's a really pretty fountain here!"
I followed the sound of her voice, navigating the twisting passages until I found her sitting on the edge of a small fountain decorated with crystal formations that caught and refracted the afternoon sunlight into dancing rainbows.
"It's beautiful," I admitted, settling beside her on the fountain's rim. The water tinkled softly as it cascaded over the crystals, creating a peaceful ambiance that seemed perfectly suited for sibling conversations.
"Remember when we used to play hide-and-seek in the old part of the maze?" Celia asked, swinging her feet and watching the light patterns dance in the water. "You always found the best hiding spots."
"You were terrible at staying quiet," I replied with a fond smile. "I could hear your giggling from three paths away."
"I was not that loud!" she protested, splashing me playfully with fountain water.
"Oh really?" I splashed back, and soon we were engaged in a minor water fight that left us both damp and laughing.
As we settled down, our clothes dripping slightly, Celia leaned against my shoulder with the comfortable familiarity of siblings who'd grown up together. "I love days like this, Lance. Just us having fun without worrying about lessons or expectations."
"Me too," I agreed, wrapping an arm around her in a protective gesture that felt completely natural. "We should make sure to do this more often."
"Promise?" she asked, looking up at me with those crimson eyes that mirrored our mother's.
"Promise," I confirmed solemnly. "No matter how busy things get, we'll always find time for hedge maze adventures."
She smiled and nestled closer, and for a while we just sat in comfortable silence, listening to the fountain and watching the light play across the crystal formations. These moments felt precious—simple, uncomplicated time with my sister before the weight of noble expectations fully settled on our shoulders.
"Lance?" Celia said eventually.
"Hmm?"
"Do you think when we're older, we'll still be close like this? Even when we have our own duties and responsibilities?"
The question was innocent enough, but something in her tone made me look down at her more carefully. "Of course. Being siblings means more than just growing up in the same house. It means always having someone who understands you."
"Good," she said quietly. "Sometimes I worry that things will change too much."
"Some things will change," I admitted honestly. "But not the important things. Not this." I gestured between us.
She seemed reassured by that and resumed her comfortable position against my shoulder. We spent another hour exploring the maze's new sections, discovering hidden alcoves and debating which hedge animals looked most realistic.
That evening at dinner, our family gathered around the polished table as usual. Mother asked about our day, and Celia enthusiastically recounted our maze adventure while I contributed occasional details.
"And there's a new section with hedge sculptures of mythical creatures," Celia explained. "There's a phoenix that looks so real you'd think it might take flight!"
"The gardeners have outdone themselves," Mother agreed with a warm smile. "I'm glad you two are taking time to enjoy the estate's amenities."
"How is your sword training progressing, Celia?" Mother asked, and I noticed my sister's enthusiasm dimmed just slightly.
"Sir Gareth says I'm making steady progress," Celia replied. "He's very... thorough in his instruction."
"That's what we want in a teacher," Mother nodded approvingly. "Thoroughness builds proper foundations."
The conversation moved on to other topics—upcoming harvest festivals, a letter from a cousin in the capital, plans for winter preparations. Celia participated normally, though I caught her stifling a yawn once or twice.
After dinner, as we prepared for bed, I found myself reflecting on how peaceful our days had become. The transition into formal education had been smoother than expected, and despite the increased responsibilities, we still found time for the simple joys of childhood.
"Lyra," I said to my personal maid as she helped me into my nightclothes, "thank you for arranging that extra time in the library today. It's nice to have quiet study periods."
"Of course, Young Master. I've noticed you're quite dedicated to your magical theory research."
"Knowledge is power," I replied with a slight smile. "And power properly applied can protect what matters most."
"Wise words for someone so young," she observed.
As I settled into bed, I felt a deep sense of contentment. This new life offered something my previous existence had lacked—genuine peace and the luxury of time. Time to grow stronger gradually, time to build relationships, time to simply enjoy being part of a family.
'I won't take this for granted,' I promised myself as sleep began to claim me. 'Every peaceful day is a gift.'
The morning would bring new lessons, new opportunities to grow stronger, and more precious moments with the family I was determined to protect. For now, that was enough.
The next morning dawned bright and clear. I completed my usual routine of light physical exercises and mana circulation practice before making my way to the dining hall for breakfast. Mother was already there, reviewing correspondence while sipping her tea with characteristic elegance.
"Good morning, Mother," I greeted, taking my seat.
"Good morning, Lance. Did you sleep well?"
"Very well, thank you." I helped myself to fresh bread and fruit from the spread the kitchen had prepared. "Will you be occupied with duchy business today?"
"Several meetings with the merchant guild representatives," she confirmed. "Nothing that should concern you, but it may keep me busy until evening."
Celia arrived a few minutes later, looking refreshed and ready for the day. She chatted cheerfully about her plans—etiquette lessons with Viscountess Rivelle in the morning, sword training with Sir Gareth after lunch, and hopefully some free time in the gardens before dinner.
The meal proceeded pleasantly, with Mother offering gentle guidance on various noble protocols and Celia asking animated questions about everything from trade negotiations to proper forms of address for different ranks of nobility.
As we finished eating, one of the household maids approached our table with the careful deference typical of well-trained staff.
"Your Grace, Young Master, Young Lady," she said with a respectful curtsy.
"Yes, Maria?" Mother acknowledged.
"Forgive the interruption, Your Grace, but I was wondering..." The maid glanced uncertainly between Mother and me. "Young Master, might I have a word with you privately? When convenient, of course."
I looked up from my plate, mildly curious about what one of the household staff might need to discuss with me specifically. "Of course. After breakfast?"
"Thank you, Young Master." She curtsied again and withdrew to wait at a respectful distance.
Mother raised an eyebrow slightly. "That's unusual. I wonder what Maria might need to discuss with you."
"Probably something about the library organization," I suggested. "I've been spending considerable time there lately."
"Perhaps," Mother agreed, though she looked mildly puzzled.
Celia, meanwhile, had finished her meal and was already rising from her chair. "I should get ready for my etiquette lesson. Viscountess Rivelle doesn't appreciate tardiness."
"Have a good lesson," I told her, and she beamed at me before hurrying off.
A few minutes later, after Mother had departed for her meetings, I approached Maria, who had been waiting patiently near the dining hall's entrance.
"You wanted to speak with me?" I asked.
"Yes, Young Master." She glanced around nervously, ensuring we were alone. "Perhaps somewhere more private? It concerns... a delicate matter."