After his bath, Northern got dressed in the freshly pressed academy uniform that Mia had laid out earlier. The fabric was smooth and comfortable, its silver linings glinting faintly in the sunlight that seeped through the curtains. Adjusting the collar, he gave himself one last look in the mirror before heading out.
The hallway outside was quiet, lined with portraits of the Hilton ancestors staring down with timeless authority. Their painted gazes seemed to follow him as he walked, as if silently judging the imposter now wearing their descendant's face. Northern ignored it and continued toward the garden courtyard—the "main side" of the mansion.
The morning breeze was crisp, carrying the soft scent of blooming lilies. Birds perched on marble statues, chirping as if mocking the stillness of the noble estate. Under a large willow tree near the fountain sat his father—Lord Reynard Hilton—reading through a stack of letters, his expression as sharp and unreadable as ever.
Northern hesitated for a brief moment before approaching. 'This is my second time Tof meeting with Lucas' father. Does he not find me suspicious?'. He thought within himself.
The Lord's mere presence carried weight—his silver-gray hair and commanding posture made it clear why he was one of the most influential men in the kingdom.
"Father," Northern greeted, bowing slightly out of respect.
Reynard's eyes lifted from the papers. "Lucas. You're up early for once." His tone was calm but edged with mild surprise. "Don't tell me you've finally learned the virtue of punctuality?"
Northern forced a small, polite smile. "I'm trying to change, Father."
The duke arched a brow, clearly skeptical, but didn't comment. "You should be on your way to the academy soon. The Awakening Ceremony won't wait for you."
"I know," Northern said. "But before that, there's something I'd like to ask of you."
Reynard placed the papers aside, his attention sharpening. "Go on."
Northern took a breath. "I'd like Mia to start accompanying me to school from today onward."
The duke blinked once, clearly taken aback. "Mia? The servant girl?"
"Yes," Northern replied calmly. "She's been with our family for years. I trust her more than anyone else, and I'd like her to continue assisting me… and also to receive proper education."
Reynard's eyes narrowed. "Education?"
Northern nodded. "Yes. She's smart, loyal, and capable. Keeping her as just a servant feels like a waste. I'd like her to study. Perhaps… stop being a servant altogether."
The silence that followed was heavy. Even the rustling of the willow leaves seemed to pause.
Reynard leaned back in his chair, studying his son's face with quiet scrutiny. "Lucas Hilton," he said slowly, "you refuse to train properly, avoid your studies, and yet now you speak of trust and education? Since when did you start worrying about your servants?"
Northern met his father's piercing gaze without flinching. "Since I realized not everyone deserves to be treated like property."
Reynard's expression hardened for a moment, then softened with something unreadable—perhaps confusion, perhaps curiosity. "You've changed," he muttered.
"Maybe I finally grew up," Northern replied quietly.
Reynard exhaled, resting his elbows on the armrest. "Well, that servant girl has been by your side ever since you were young. In fact, you were the one that saved she and her sister from bad gangs so ever since then, they have been by your side willingly. You are free to do as you wish," he said after a pause. "If you believe this will help you focus, I'll allow it. But understand this, Lucas—whatever you're planning, it's your responsibility. Don't expect me to fix your mistakes."
Northern bowed slightly. "Thank you, Father. I won't let you down."
Reynard gave a faint nod and returned his attention to the letters. As Northern turned to leave, the Lord's voice came again, softer this time.
"Lucas… one more thing."
Northern stopped and glanced back.
"Don't get too attached," Reynard said, his tone carrying an unexpected weight. "People like us—our fates are not meant to intertwine easily with others."
Northern's gaze lingered on his father for a moment before he gave a quiet, knowing smile. "You might be right, Father," he said, "but I'll take my chances."
With that, he walked away, leaving the Lord staring silently at the rippling water of the fountain—perhaps realizing for the first time that his son wasn't quite the same anymore.
------
Northern found Mia waiting by the entrance, already dressed in a simple wear, her hands clasped neatly in front of her. She looked up the moment she heard his footsteps.
"Young master," she greeted, bowing slightly. "I've prepared everything for your trip to the academy. The carriage is ready outside."
"Good," Northern said, walking past her with an easy stride. Then, remembering his conversation with his father, he turned slightly and added, "I have spoken to my father about you and he has giving his consent."
Her head shot up immediately. "Really? He agreed?"
"Yes," he replied. "You'll be joining me from now on."
Her lips parted in disbelief, eyes wide. "But… I thought only nobles and students were allowed in the academy grounds. Servants—"
"Don't worry about that," Northern interrupted, his tone steady. "Starting today, you're no longer just a servant, Mia. You'll learn and observe. Think of it as… the beginning of something new."
Mia stared at him for a long moment, her chest tightening as if she couldn't quite believe what she was hearing. A faint flush rose to her cheeks as she lowered her head. "Thank you, young master," she said softly. "I… I'll do my best not to disappoint you."
He gave a small, approving nod. "I know you won't."
Outside, the golden morning sun had begun to climb higher. The Hilton carriage stood waiting—a sleek, obsidian-black design with the family's emblem, a phoenix rising from ice, carved on its door. Two white stallions stood at the front, their harnesses polished to a gleam.
The coachman, an elderly man with graying hair, bowed deeply as they approached. "Young master, the academy gates have been opened early for the Awakening Day. Shall we depart?"
"Yes," Northern said, stepping inside. He turned to Mia, gesturing. "Come on. Sit beside me."
Mia hesitated briefly before climbing into the carriage. The seat was soft, lined with blue velvet, and the air smelled faintly of herbs and polished wood. She sat carefully, her hands folded in her lap, though her eyes wandered curiously toward the world outside the window.
As the carriage began to move, the rhythmic clatter of hooves filled the silence.
Northern leaned back against the seat, watching the passing scenery. The capital city of Arelia was already bustling—vendors shouting, students hurrying in their academy robes, and magical lights floating above the streets. Despite the early hour, excitement buzzed in the air.
"Is it always like this on awakening days?" he asked.
Mia nodded, her eyes bright with nostalgia. "Yes, young master. Everyone looks forward to it. It's said that on this day, the stars align with the world's mana flow. Those who awaken today often have higher affinities."
"So it's a lucky day," Northern murmured, his fingers tapping lightly on the window frame. "Then luck had better be on my side."
Mia glanced at him. "You'll definitely awaken this time," she said with quiet certainty.
Northern smiled faintly at her faith in him. 'If only you knew… I'm not the Lucas you remember. What if I don't awaken again?'
The streets gradually gave way to the vast open path leading to the Royal Academy of Magic. The grand building came into view—its towering spires and crystalline domes gleaming like frozen stars under the sunlight. Hundreds of students were already gathered near the front gates, laughter and chatter filling the air.
As the carriage rolled to a stop, heads began to turn. The Hilton family crest was instantly recognizable, and whispers followed.
"That's Lucas Hilton."
"Didn't he get into trouble again last month?"
"No, I heard he's changed lately."
"Still, he's the Lord's son. Look at that carriage!"
Northern stepped down first, feeling the weight of those stares. He ignored them all. Then he turned, offering a hand to Mia.
She hesitated, flustered by the attention, but he simply said, "Come on. Don't mind them."
She placed her hand in his, and he helped her down gracefully.
For a brief moment, the two stood side by side before the academy's enormous gates—the once reckless and useless young master and the pink-haired girl who had once been just a servant.
Northern glanced up at the towering structure, determination flashing in his eyes. 'This is where it begins. If fate wants to test me, then I'll rewrite it myself.'