Aeren and Renn held each other's gaze in silence. The air between them felt heavy, not with hostility, but with unspoken questions.
"What now?" Aeren finally asked, his tone flat. "You know my past."
Renn leaned back in the chair, studying him with unreadable eyes. "I didn't expect you to be… this type of guy."
"I was born like this," Aeren replied without hesitation. "There's nothing surprising about it."
Renn's brows furrowed. "How many people know?"
"It doesn't matter."
"Do you need help?" Renn pressed.
"No. I can handle my problems on my own."
Renn exhaled through his nose, then shrugged. "Fine. Just try not to overdo it." Without another word, he stood and left the room.
Aeren watched his back disappear beyond the doorway, his expression unreadable.
That night, long after the mansion had fallen into quiet slumber, Aeren slipped away to the place he always went. The darkness was his ally, and the familiar scent of cold stone and blood greeted him. Lira hung there, bound by the mana-restricting chains, her eyes already filled with dread.
As always, the training began. As always, her voice broke the silence—screaming, pleading, begging, crying. Hours bled into days. Days into a week.
And then… Isolde's birthday arrived.
The vast hall of House Verdan shone with golden light from dozens of chandeliers, the air rich with music, laughter, and the scent of fine food. Nobles mingled, servants moved gracefully between them, and at the center of it all, Lady Isolde stood radiant. Her silver hair cascaded like silk, and the violet of her gown matched her eyes perfectly. Tonight, she was the jewel of the evening—every smile she gave drew admiration like moths to flame.
Renn was at her side, drawing his own attention. His confident demeanor and striking face had already gathered two or three noble girls around him, their laughter soft and eager.
Aeren and Liora moved through the crowd, serving and assisting guests. They were invisible in the way good servants should be, though Aeren's gaze flickered constantly across the hall, cataloguing faces.
The celebration was in full swing when the massive double doors opened.
Two figures entered—one a young woman with a regal air, the other a boy of nearly identical features, perhaps her twin. The moment they stepped inside, the room's chatter faltered into silence. Heads turned.
Eldric himself emerged from the crowd to greet them, his expression formal yet unreadable. He guided them toward seats of honor without hesitation.
Whispers rose like a tide among the guests.
"Isn't that the Duke's son and daughter?"
"Yes… they say they're the most gifted of the younger generation."
Another voice murmured, "They're the Calvess twins—Amara Calvess and Alaric Calvess. Rumor has it they're rivals to royalty itself."
"And why are they here? Did the Verdans… align themselves with House Calvess? This could mean something far bigger."
Isolde heard the whispers but gave no sign she noticed. Her gaze settled on the twins—cool, assessing, curious. Without hesitation, she began walking toward them, her gown gliding silently across the polished floor.
Isolde's eyes locked onto Amara and Aleric as she stepped forward.
Amara wore a smug smile. "It's been a while," she said, voice dripping with casual confidence.
Isolde studied her with a suspicious gaze. "Why did you come? I thought you'd already forgotten about me."
Amara's lips curved into a faint grin. "It's not that I forgot. I just didn't want to meet you. I'm here today because my brother wanted to see you."
Beside her, Aleric glanced at his sister with quiet suspicion. In truth, she was the one dragged him, but he had no other choice now and simply nodded along to her words.
Isolde drew in a breath, ready to press her further—
"Amara? What the hell?"
The voice rang out over the hall, cutting her off.
Everyone turned.
Renn stood a short distance away, looking at Amara as if she had just told him the sun was square. "You're a noble lady? I thought you were just… wild."
Silence fell over the crowd.
Amara froze for a fraction of a second, a flicker of embarrassment crossing her face. Then she snapped, "Who are you calling wild, you fucker?!"
Aleric's head whipped toward her in shock. Without a word, he quickly looked away, pretending he had no relation to the woman beside him.
Renn glanced around the room with a casual shrug. "You look wild. Everyone here knows it. Shouting like a wild animal for no reason."
Amara's gaze swept the hall — yet no one met her eyes. Heads turned, attention suddenly elsewhere.
She faced Renn again, scowling. "You've got a lot of guts, commoner, to talk to me like that. For noble lady like me."
Renn tilted his head. "If you're a noble, then act like it. I've spent time with you before, and I've never seen you behave like one."
Amara's glare softened slightly into puzzlement. "What are you talking about? I was never wild. I'm the kindest and most protective person you'll ever meet."
She turned to her brother. "Right?"
Aleric hesitated, caught off guard. "Uh… yes, my sister is kind and…"
He trailed off, staring at her blankly.
"Protective," Amara supplied.
"Yes! Pro... What my sister said," he added quickly, forcing a smile.
Amara gave him a look that was equal parts disappointment and resignation, then turned back to Renn. "See? My brother knows me well."
Renn let out a short laugh. "Haha, yeah… I guess I was wrong."
A faint, wordless smile remained on Amara's lips. The tension between them loosened, and soon the two began speaking more privately, their earlier clash forgotten — at least for now.
From a short distance away, Isolde watched, quietly stunned by Renn's boldness.
The whispers began again, but this time, the subject wasn't Amara or Aleric.
Who is that boy?
He has the nerve to speak to the duke's daughter without hesitation.
Find out everything about him, one noble murmured to the shadow at his side.
The murmurs spread through the hall like ripples on water, and the night's tone shifted yet again…