The garden was quiet.
Too quiet.
Caelum walked along the stone path, his steps unhurried. The morning sun filtered through trimmed trees, casting clean shadows on the ground. Flowers were arranged perfectly, each color placed with care. Even the air felt controlled.
House Noctyrr did not allow disorder.
He stopped near the fountain again, watching the water move.
'This place is comfortable,' he thought.
'And that is exactly the problem.'
Comfort created carelessness.
Carelessness created openings.
He turned away before he could sink into thought.
The sound of light footsteps reached him.
He did not turn.
"Brother."
Eliya's voice.
Soft. Close.
He waited until she stood beside him.
"You came out here again," she said, looking at the fountain. "You always do."
He glanced at her. "You always follow."
She smiled. "Because you don't talk."
"I do."
"Not really."
He did not argue.
They stood quietly.
Eliya rocked on her heels. "Are you thinking about something bad?"
He looked at her. "Define bad."
She frowned. "Like… scary."
He considered.
'How do you explain fate, death, and predetermined endings to a child,' he thought.
'You don't.'
"No," he said. "Just boring things."
She relaxed. "Oh. Okay."
She leaned against him.
He did not move away.
Not because he liked it.
Because it was normal.
And normal mattered.
Footsteps approached again.
He did not need to turn to know who it was.
Thyrene.
She stopped a few steps away, arms crossed.
"You're avoiding us," she said.
He glanced at her. "You're observing me."
She narrowed her eyes. "You act strange."
He tilted his head. "You act predictable."
She clicked her tongue. "Annoying."
Eliya smiled. "You two are funny."
Thyrene sighed. "You're too close to him."
Eliya hugged his arm. "No."
He exhaled slowly.
'So this is how it is,' he thought.
'One guarding. One clinging.'
He looked at Thyrene. "What do you want."
She hesitated.
Then said, "You're changing."
He studied her face.
Not worried.
Not angry.
Jealous.
Protective.
Uncertain.
'She senses instability,' he thought.
'Good instincts.'
"People change," he replied.
She frowned. "Not like this."
He did not respond.
Jena's voice came from behind. "Thyrene, don't interrogate him."
Thyrene turned. "I'm not."
Jena smiled gently. "You are."
She walked closer, her expression calm.
"Caelum," she said, "your tutor will arrive soon."
He nodded. "I know."
Eliya looked disappointed. "Again?"
"Yes."
She pouted. "You're always busy."
He looked at her. "You're always attached."
She grinned. "I know."
Jena laughed softly.
Thyrene rolled her eyes.
The moment passed.
Simple.
Light.
And fragile.
The tutor arrived before noon.
A middle-aged man with neat hair and stiff posture. His clothes were expensive but worn with care.
He bowed deeply. "Young Master."
Caelum returned it politely.
They moved to the study.
The room was large. Books lined the walls. Sunlight fell across a wide desk. Ink and paper were already prepared.
The tutor adjusted his glasses. "Today we continue with history and governance."
Caelum nodded. "Understood."
They began.
The tutor spoke.
Caelum listened.
And remembered.
Kingdoms.
Borders.
Wars.
All familiar.
'This map is outdated,' he thought.
'This border shifts in six years.'
He said nothing.
The tutor paused. "Young Master?"
Caelum looked up. "Yes."
"You seemed distracted."
He answered calmly. "Just processing."
The tutor nodded. "Very good."
They continued.
Outside, servants moved quietly. The house remained calm.
Too calm.
A knock interrupted them.
The door opened slightly.
A servant bowed. "Young Master, the master requests your presence."
Caelum stood. "Now?"
"Yes."
He nodded and followed.
The study door closed behind him.
Lucien stood in the main hall, hands behind his back.
Jena stood nearby.
Thyrene leaned against the wall.
Eliya hovered close.
On the table between them…
A letter.
Sealed.
Black wax.
Gold crest.
Royal.
Caelum stopped.
He did not react.
But his eyes sharpened.
'That's early,' he thought.
'Too early.'
Lucien looked at him. "This arrived ten minutes ago."
Caelum nodded. "From the palace."
"Yes."
Jena's voice was careful. "It is… an invitation."
Thyrene frowned. "For what?"
Lucien answered. "Her Majesty intends to visit."
Silence.
Eliya blinked. "The Queen?"
"Yes."
Thyrene straightened. "Why?"
Lucien looked at Caelum.
Not accusing.
Not suspicious.
Measuring.
"We were not told," he said. "Only that she will arrive within the week."
Jena's fingers tightened slightly. "That is… unexpected."
Caelum picked up the letter.
The seal was intact.
He did not open it.
He did not need to.
'So she noticed,' he thought.
'Already.'
His expression remained calm.
"House Noctyrr is high-ranking," he said. "It is not strange."
Lucien studied him. "You sound certain."
He met his gaze. "It's logical."
Lucien did not reply.
Thyrene crossed her arms. "I don't like it."
Eliya tugged his sleeve. "Is she scary?"
He looked down at her. "All powerful people are."
She frowned. "That's not nice."
He shrugged. "It's true."
Jena exhaled slowly. "We will prepare."
Lucien nodded. "We must."
The letter remained unopened.
Heavy.
Silent.
Important.
Caelum felt it clearly.
Not danger.
Attention.
'So the route is active,' he thought.
'Even without a system.'
He did not smile.
He did not frown.
He simply accepted it.
Later, in the corridor, Thyrene stopped him.
"Hey."
He turned. "Yes."
She hesitated. "If something happens… tell me."
He looked at her.
Not surprised.
Not confused.
'So she really is watching,' he thought.
"I will," he said.
She nodded, satisfied.
Eliya ran up and hugged him again. "Don't go away."
He did not answer.
Jena watched from a distance.
Lucien observed from the stairs.
No one spoke.
But the air had changed.
That night, Caelum sat by the window in his room.
The garden was dark.
The house quiet.
The letter lay on the desk.
Unopened.
Unneeded.
He stared at it.
'So it begins,' he thought.
'Not with monsters.'
'Not with war.'
'With interest.'
He leaned back in his chair.
'This game was built to trap,' he thought.
'And I walked in willingly.'
His reflection stared back at him from the glass.
Beautiful.
Harmless.
And completely false.
His lips curved slightly.
Not in excitement.
In calculation.