Harmonia Calendar 715, Thal 21 - Ashspire Estate, Elandor
Noon - Lucien's Room
I shut the chamber door with my heel and let my head rest against the wood, basking in the silence.
A few minutes passed like that.
At last, I pushed myself off the door and crossed to the desk. The chair creaked as I sank into it.
I let out a slow breath and closed my eyes for a moment. When I opened them again, my gaze fell on the parchment.
The letter lay exactly where I'd left it, the seal unbroken, resting before the mirror like it had been waiting for me.
My eyes lingered, then drifted past the parchment until they caught the glass behind it.
I met my reflection. Short, practical blond hair and emerald eyes, Mother's eyes, looking back at me. My jaw looked sharper, yet the expression I wore was one I couldn't name.
A dark vest lay snug over a simple linen shirt, the collar left loose. Not polished and styled like Favian, who wore charm as a weapon. I lifted a hand, combing fingers through my hair, more to calm myself than to truly fix it.
I let my hand fall to the desk, fingertips brushing the old wood before my gaze slipped back down to the letter again.
I reached for it, thumb brushing over the wax. The seal was cool beneath my skin, a circle etched with a sword at its center.
'Master's crest from the Center. A mark of power—'
Knock.
The sound cut through my thoughts. The knob turned, wood creaking as the door opened.
Mother slipped inside, closing the door with her hip. She smiled softly, her voice gentle.
"Have you decided?"
My finger drifted back over the wax, tracing it once, then again. I lifted my eyes to mother and shook my head.
"Not yet."
She gave a slight nod at my words. She stepped past me toward the window, fingertips trailing along the thin lines between the panes. Her voice came soft, but every word carried weight.
"Your Father will never name you heir."
The words lingered in the silence before she turned, emerald eyes locking with mine. When she spoke again, her tone was firmer.
"Favian will be heir. That won't change. But Lucien… you are gifted. Talented. Don't waste it here. Make something of it."
I broke her gaze and let my eyes fall to the letter. The seal caught the light, red against white. When I spoke, my voice came out hesitant and honest.
"I don't want to leave them...Theodora and Adonis."
She stepped closer, her hand rising to my chin, gentle as it guided my head upward. My eyes resisted at first, but her touch left me no choice. When I finally met her gaze, emerald eyes looked back at me, soft, carrying love and care that only a mother could hold. Her voice dropped to a whisper.
"Lucien… leaving isn't the end. It's part of life. We all leave, one way or another. What matters isn't that you leave. It's whether you come back."
I gave her a faint smile and let my eyes fall back to the letter.
"You're right…I have to come back. Thanks, Mom."
The words sat between us for a moment. Then hesitation crept in. My thumb pressed harder on the wax, my voice came quieter.
"Do you think he would care if I left?"
Her eyes softened at my choice of words, and her hand pressed a little firmer against my cheek. She drew a breath before answering, her voice came low.
"He would… he just won't say it."
I nodded, but the motion felt empty, more for her sake than mine. Inside, I already knew his answer.
'He wouldn't care. He never does. He'd wave me off with those same words, "Do what you want". It's always the same. To him, nothing matters as long as Favian is here. I could vanish tomorrow, and he wouldn't even blink. And the worst part? I've stopped expecting anything else.'
Her hand slipped from my cheek as she moved back to the window. She lingered there, eyes watching over the garden. Then her head turned slightly, toward me again.
"I worry for him."
My eyes found hers. I set the letter down and straightened.
"Adonis?"
She gave a slow nod, then turned back to the window.
"He tries to make himself small. He shouldn't have to."
I pushed myself up from the chair and crossed the room to join her at the window. We stood together, looking out across the garden.
Below, Adonis stood out even at a distance, his damp hair falling to his forehead, a black tunic clinging to his slim frame. Beside him moved a young maid, perhaps thirteen, she was striking in her own way. Dark brown hair fell straight to her shoulders, and her bright amber eyes caught the sun like fire.
'I think that's the new maid the stewards mentioned, the one put in charge of washing clothes.'
She staggered under a bundle of cloth far too heavy for her arms, nearly stumbling. Adonis's hand shot out, one arm catching her waist, the other steadying the load. He said something I couldn't hear, her head flushed crimson in an instant. He took the bundle from her with a smile. She hesitated, then laughed at whatever he added, her embarrassment melting into a grin that lit her whole face. Her gaze lingered on him, stars shining in her eyes.
I breathed out a quiet laugh through my nose.
'That boy will be a problem one day with all the girls falling for him. Good luck to Mother handling that.'
The thought made me grin, and my voice broke the silence.
"The maids really do love him."
Mother smiled at my words. She turned, pausing just long enough to give me one last look over her shoulder. Her voice came low, knowing, almost amused.
"Not only the maids."
She left the room, the soft brush of her dress trailing across the stone floor until the door clicked shut behind her.
Thud.
Silence returned.
I turned back to the window, but the garden was empty now, they're already gone.
I sighed.
'Good luck, Theodora.'
The thought drew a faint smile as I moved back to the desk.
I reached for the letter, broke the seal, and slid the parchment free.
I read it line after line. Then once more.
An invitation. A path. A price.
'If I go, I will leave them behind. If I stay, I will become Favian's shadow.'
I folded it, tucked it beneath the ledger, and let out a slow breath.
'Later.'
***
Noon - Training Yard
The sand was cold beneath my bare feet, grains shifted as I moved. Around me, the square of stone framed the circle of sand, dummies lined at the edge, a rack of swords leaned nearby.
I raised my blade. Breath in, breath out.
The swordmaster's voice came sharp.
"Again."
I set my feet, stepped forward, turned my hip, and let the sword flow through the cut. The air hummed with the swing. I drew the blade back, settling into guard again, shoulders tight, breath steady.
It felt good.
He stepped closer and tapped the flat part of my sword. His tone softened a fraction.
"Better. You remember corrections. That makes you easy to teach."
I let out a laugh, and wiped the sweat off my brow with my sleeve.
"I have to, if I want to become stronger."
His eyes narrowed, though there was a hint of approval.
"Hardworking. That's rarer."
Theodora's laugh floated down from the balcony. I kept my eyes forward, if I looked, I knew he'd make me run laps again.
The swordmaster's sharp voice pulled me back.
"Focus."
I bowed my head, in apology.
"Sorry."
His finger tapped my blade, pointing out the angle of my guard position.
"You're late on the recovery. If you open there in front of someone who wants to hurt you, you won't get a second lesson."
I steadied my grip, nodding once.
"Yes."
He raised his own blade to show the form.
"Guard. Again."
I improved my stance and cut once more. Step. Breath. Cut. Guard. The rhythm drowned everything else until only the clang of steel remained.
His corrections echoed in my head as I moved.
'A bit higher here. Faster. Twist the wrist a bit more. Stronger.'
I kept going until my arms trembled and every muscle ached.
Clap.
The sharp sound broke my focus. I froze mid-guard as the swordmaster lowered his hand. He waved me off with a flick, his voice firm.
"Enough. That will be it for today. Good focus. Keep it up."
I watched him leave with steady steps, then rolled my shoulders, a burn ran down my arms.
Step.
My gaze drifted toward the stairs at the sound of footsteps.
Theodora was already waiting. She still wore the green dress from breakfast, the color matched the brightness of her emerald eyes. Sunlight caught in her hazel-brown hair, turned it to gold for a moment.
'Pretty.'
A cloth hung from one hand, a cup of water in the other. Her smile curved bright as she came closer.
She smiled as she held the cup out to me, her voice soft, teasing.
"My hero."
I took it and drank a sip, the water cooled my throat. I shook my head.
"Hardly."
She reached up and wrapped the cloth around my head. She pulled my face down toward her height. Close. Too close. Her flowery scent washed over me, her breath bushing my neck. Her voice came sharp despite how small she stood.
"Don't argue."
I let her fuss. It was cute, her stern little voice paired with her height barely reaching my shoulder. But she was too close, my eyes drifted to her lips before I realized. I spoke quickly, before she could notice.
"How was it?"
Her emerald eyes caught mine as she pulled the cloth back, fingers slipping into my hair. She ruffled it with mischief dancing in her smile. I leaned in her touch soft, warm I liked it.
"Terrible."
I tilted my head, one brow lifting, studying her with narrowed eyes.
"Oh, and why?"
She drew her hand back, then mimicked my swings with exaggerated jerks of her arms, twisting her face into something absurd.
"Because my hero always makes ugly expressions when he swings his sword. Like this."
Heat rushed to my face. My grip tightened around the cup.
"That's… that's because I have to focus!"
She patted my head, her grin grew wider.
"I know, I know. And I'll still love you even if you look ugly."
My eyes stayed on her lips as she said it. The words reached me a beat too late, and when they did, heat rushed to my face. I turned away quickly, praying she hasn't caught the flush.
'I have to get away from her.'
I turned and crossed the yard, steps hurried. But hers were right behind, and a moment later she was beside me. Her shoulder brushed mine and stayed there.
'Great. She noticed it.'
***
Noon - Balcony
From up here, the training yard looked strange with rings scuffed into the sand, footprints overlapping, dummies hacked and stabbed until straw spilled from their seams.
In the middle, Adonis moved. Step, cut, recover. Step, cut, recover. The same line drilled over and over until it looked clean. His shoulders shook with effort, but he never slowed.
'Always focused. Always giving his all.'
The servants liked him for it. I'd seen their smiles when he greeted them by name. How he thanked the water boy who fetched him a cup. How he bent to pick up a dropped rag without making a show of it. Small courtesies, added up, until they weighed more than favors.
The swordmaster said something, and Adonis laughed. The sound carried all the way up here. Warm and innocent, but with it, something unruly tugged in my chest.
His head tilted, and our eyes met.
I raised the cloth in my hands like a flag, waving it at him. He turned, tried to ignore me, but the twitch at the corner of his mouth betrayed him.
'Cute.'
The word clung in my chest. I pressed the cloth to my lips until the smile faded.
'Reality is heavier than a cloth.'
Father had already begun speaking of families.
'Potential matches.'
"But if Adonis grew strong enough… perhaps he could…"
The thought felt foolish, a child's wish. And yet...I gripped the cloth tighter, my feet were already moving. I turned and ran for the stairs.
***
Noon - Anton's Study
The steward entered again, arms full of slates. He set them down in stacks while I dipped the quill.
I marked the guest list with practiced strokes.
"Confirm the guild escorts. Add two servers to the west aisle. Move the musicians back a pace."
The steward bowed his head.
"Yes, my lord."
I shifted to another slate, signing a flourish at the bottom.
"And send a note to the Valmontis household. A small courtesy."
He bowed lower, then withdrew, the door shut behind him.
Thud.
I rose and crossed to the window. I drew the curtain back, the yard stretched below.
The boy was still there, blade cutting the air into clean lines. My focus shifted to the balcony. Theodora leaned against the rail, a cloth in her hands, watching him.
'Theodora still lingers too close. Perhaps…it's time to match him.'
I weighed the thought in my mind.
I let the curtain fall and turned back to the desk. I dipped the quill once more and added the final line in clean words to the report.
[Presentable for guests.]