The west wing of the Ducal estate was always quiet, Arian walked through it slowly, at the end of the hall stood two big doors. Behind them was the drawing room of his grandmother, Lady Verena Voronin , the Dowager Duchess.
He knocked gently.
"Enter" came her calm, steady voice.
He opened the door and Arian stepped into the room where Lady Verena sat. On the table beside her rested a vase filled with white orchids. As he entered, he noticed his grandmother's personal maid stiffen, her eyes widening as if she had just remembered something.
Without a word, she hurried to the vase, lifted it, and carried it out of the room—avoiding his gaze. Arian smiled sheepishly. It only happened once, he thought. Just once, and it was by mistake. He drew a slow breath and walked further inside.
The curtains were half closed, letting in warm light. A small table stood beside the chair near the window, with a teapot and two cups that had gone cold.
Lady Verena sat there, her back straight, her gray hair tied neatly. Her eyes were green bright but distant. Since transferring her title and duties to the new Duchess, she had turned toward faith. She spent most of her time reading and praying to the God of Light.
On that small table were also several books scriptures and handwritten notes.
Arian bowed. "Good afternoon, Lady Verena ."
"You're late."she said firmly.
"I'm sorry" he replied softly. He stepped closer and held up the book she usely asked for. "Shall I read?"
She gave a small nod.
He sat in the chair across from her and opened the book. The pages were thin and smelled faintly of incense. He cleared his throat and began to read aloud.
His voice was calm and steady. He didn't believe much in religion himself, but he read every word carefully. He had been doing this every three months for years now since he was 8. Other than that his grandmother ever called for him.
At first, he had thought she just wanted company. But she never said much. Still, she always listened quietly. Maybe this was her way of showing she cared.
Arian glanced up once. She was looking out the window, her expression soft but unreadable, after 40 minutes.She lifted her hand slightly a small motion that meant "stop."
Arian closed the book. "That's enough for today?"
She didn't answer, as usual.
He stood up and brushed his coat. He hesitated, then said, "Before I go, I wanted to tell you I'll be leaving the estate soon. I plan to speak with the Duke tonight and depart tomorrow."
Her head turned slightly, just enough for him to see her face in the light. Her green eyes looked him for a brief moment.
He bowed. Hesitated for moment then bite his lip and forced himself to said "Thank you for everything, Grandmother."
He placed the scripture on the table and walked toward the door.Just as he reached it, her quiet voice stopped him.
" tomorrow Before you departure." she said, "come to see me."
He froze, surprised.
"I... yes, Lady Verena ."he said, turning halfway toward her.
But she had already turned back to the window, her face calm again.
He bowed once more and left the room.
---
The hallway outside felt brighter. Arian exhaled slowly.
A maid hurried up to him. "young master the Duchess requests your presence."
"The Duchess?" he repeated.
"Yes, my lord. She said to come right away."
He nodded. "All right."
Inside, Lady Verena still sat by the window, her eyes on the light outside, the book open beside her.
"Clara." she said quietly.
"Yes, my lady? "
"Prepare the chest in my study."
"The one with the silver clasp?"
"Yes." she said.
---
The path to the Duchess's quarters led through the garden. Arian didn't expect anyone else to be there.
But as he turned a corner near the fountain, he stopped.
Standing under the rose arches was his second brother, Alistair Corvane Valemar
Arian froze. Alistair was supposed to still be on his mission in the Syltharion kingdom he shouldn't have returned yet.
Beside him stood four hooded figures dressed in light gray cloaks.
Arian hesitated. He wanted to leave quietly, but walking away would look disrespectful.
He straightened and walked forward. "Welcome home, brother" he said with a polite smile. "How was your journey?."
Alistair looked up and, to Arian's surprise, smiled. "It went well." He even placed a hand on Arian's shoulder a rare gesture from him but Arian know he's just putting a show for the guests.
"I'm glad." Arian said softly.
Then one of the hooded figures stepped forward and removed his hood.
Arian's eyes widened. The man was an elf tall and lean, with long silver-blond hair and deep green eyes. His face was lined with wrinkles, his expression gentle but full of age and wisdom.
Arian stared. If an elf's age shows on his face, he thought, he must be at least four hundred years old maybe five.
His curiosity flared. He wanted to ask a hundred questions. What had he seen in those centuries? How had the world changed through his eyes? What books did he still keep? But Arian held back his excitement, afraid to sound foolish.
"This is your younger brother?" the elf asked calmly, his voice smooth and low.
Alistair nodded. "This is Arian."
Arian bowed politely. "It's an honor to meet you, Master Elf."
The old elf's green eyes studied him for a moment. Then, to everyone's surprise, the elf stepped forward, took Arian's hand gently, and knelt.
Arian froze in shock.
The elf pressed the back of Arian's hand lightly to his forehead a gesture of deep respect. The other elves around them murmured quietly, startled.
Arian's face turned red. " ug...y..you don't have to—"
The elf smiled kindly. "It is an honor to meet you, Lord Arian."
Even Alistair looked confused for a second, though he quickly covered it with a polite nod. "Master Thelion" he said, "we should continue our talk in Father's study."
The maid that followed him said. " you can't keep the The Duchess is waiting."
Arian nodded quickly. "Of course. It was a pleasure meeting you, Master Thelion."
As he walked away, he could still feel the elf's calm gaze on him. His heart beat faster, and his mind was full of questions.
Why would an elf bow to me?
.....
Arian followed the maid through the long corridor until they reached the Duchess's sitting room. The doors were slightly open, and a faint smell of tea and jasmine drifted out.
Inside, the Duchess sat near the piano, Her hair was brown and smooth, tied neatly behind her head. Her eyes were dark blue, calm but distant, like the surface of a lake that never ripples.
She looked up when he entered. "Come in, Arian."
He bowed. "Your Grace."
"Sit." she said softly, gesturing to the chair across from her.
He sat carefully, his back straight. The room was bright and warm, but quiet enough that he could hear the faint ticking of the clock above the fireplace.
The Duchess lifted her teacup and took a slow sip before setting it down. "How have your days been?" she asked in a polite tone.
The question surprised him. She had never asked before. "They've been fine, thank you." he answered carefully, unsure what to say.
She nodded once, her expression unchanged. "Good."
There was a pause. She wasn't cold, exactly, but she wasn't close either. She had always spoken to him like this with polite distance, as if she were fulfilling an obligation rather than talking to family, and Arien understand now that he was never a family.
Still, Arian was grateful. She had never struck him, never raised her voice, never ordered the servants to harm him. He always had fine clothes, fresh food, The only thing she ever denied him was freedom.
He wasn't allowed to attend the royal academy. He wasn't permitted to learn swordsmanship or study under scholars. He wasn't invited to social gatherings with other noble families. He grew up inside these walls like a guest who was never allowed to leave.
He was also denied to have a middle name, In the empire Aurellion, it believed that names carried power. When a noble child reached the age of twelve, they were taken to the Church of Light to receive their Ceremony of blessing, a rite where the a high priest granted them a blessed middle name.
It was once a common tradition in ancient times for every child, upon reaching the age of twelve, to receive a blessed name. But as the centuries passed and pure mana stones became rare and costly, the ceremony grew harder to afford. What was once a rite for all slowly became a privilege of the nobility.
One pure mana stone can feed a family of commoners for year, even For a fallen nobility or poor noble families, only the heir was ever granted the ceremony, the others were left without.
His siblings bore their blessed names, neither Duke or the Duchess arranged the rite for him. They never spoke of it, and he never asked. So It simply never happened.
Sometimes, he wondered why. Maybe she feared he would become ambitious, that he would desire something he shouldn't.
But Arian knew his limits. He couldn't match his eldest brother's skill with a blade. He wasn't as clever as Alistair, He had no gift for music or art. There was nothing in him worth fearing.
Still, she had raised him that way quiet, sheltered, almost like one of the noble ladies instead of a son of a noble house. He didn't understand it, but it was better than being abused. She could have been much worse, and for that, he was thankful.
The Duchess stirred her tea, the spoon clinking softly against the porcelain. "Do you enjoy the capital?"
"I've never really seen it" he admitted. "Only from the carriage windows."
"I see." Her tone carried neither regret nor judgment, only acknowledgment.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence felt heavier with every passing second. Then she set her cup down and looked at him directly.
"I heard." she said, "that you're planning to leave."
Arian blinked. The words hit harder than he expected. "You... heard?"
She noticed his surprise and smiled faintly. "Everyone who works in this estate is my eyes and ears, Arian. I know everything that happens here."
He lowered his gaze, hiding a smile that wasn't quite smile. He understood what she meant a warning wrapped in gentle words.
She could destroy him with a whisper if she wanted to, Even a hint from her would make the servants turn against him. But she hadn't, and that was her mercy.
"I was planning to." he said carefully. "I was preparing to leave and would have informed you and the Duke tonight."
He thought she would be pleased. She had always treated him like an extra piece of furniture something that didn't belong. He assumed she would be relieved to see him gone.
But to his surprise, her brows drew together slightly. A small, almost unnoticeable frown.
"Why?" she asked quietly. "Seraphina has only been gone only for a month, Why are you in hurry to leave?"
The name made him pause. He hadn't expected her to mention Seraphina.
"Your grandmother feels lonely these days." the Duchess continued. "I suggest you stay with her a few more days."
Her tone was calm, but the request was strange. She had never cared how much time he spent with anyone before.
Arian hesitated. "If that's your wish, Your Grace."
The Duchess rose slowly from her seat, brushing her dress smooth. "As for the Duke...." she said, "he won't be able to see you tonight."
He looked up, puzzled.
"Alistair returned early with a foreign envoy," she continued. "They have business to discuss with the Duke. The talks are important a trade arrangement between the Empire and the kingdom of Syltharion. Until that is settled, the Duke will not have time for you, not tonight or tomorrow. Perhaps not this week."
"I understand." Arian said quietly.
"Good."
She turned to the maid standing near the door and gave a small nod. The maid left and returned moments later carrying a long wooden box with a royal seal carved into its lid.
The Duchess gestured toward it. "This belonged to the royal family."she said. "It once used by Seraphina." Her voice softened slightly at the name. "Now it must be returned to the palace."
Arian looked at the box. "Returned?"
"Yes." the Duchess said. "I am not well enough to go outside, and the duke and Alistair are occupied with the envoy. So, you will go to the palace and deliver it yourself."
Her tone left no room for refusal.
He wanted to say what about Cassian? but he was wise enough not to ask that, so he stood and bowed. "As you wish, Your Grace."
"Good." she said simply. She didn't look at him again as she turned toward the window. "You'll leave tomorrow. The carriage will be ready."
"Yes, Your Grace."
He bowed once more and left the room quietly.