Chapter 29 – Unexpected Guests

  Late afternoon sunlight streamed through the front windows of Café Ashborne, casting soft gold across the wooden tables and the familiar scent of roasted beans and warm pastries. The lull between the lunchtime rush and the evening crowd had settled in — the quiet pocket of the day when the café usually breathed.

  Lucien sat at his usual corner table with his friends gathered around him, deep in discussion about what he should do next.

  “…so the question is,” Riven said, leaning forward dramatically, “are you going to continue the Sherlock series right away, or are you going to bask in the fame we all know you're pretending not to enjoy?”

  Lucien blinked. “I’m not basking.”

  “You literally smiled at a stranger yesterday,” Kaelen said. “For no reason.”

  “That’s not evidence,” Lucien argued.

  “It definitely is,” Evelis said, sipping her tea with a knowing nod. “You don’t smile at strangers. Ever.”

  Lucien groaned. “That’s not the point.”

  “Then what is the point?” Riven asked. “Because, my dear Ashborne, you’ve got options. You could start the second Sherlock book. You could try a new standalone. Or,” he wiggled his eyebrows, “you could just enjoy being Marilon’s rising star for a few weeks.”

  Lucien opened his mouth to reply, but Dorian spoke up first, tapping his slate.

  “Before you start anything new,” Dorian said calmly, “you should consider timing and strategy. Readers are buzzing right now. If you release something too soon, it might cannibalize the momentum. Too late, and excitement cools down.”

  Seliora nodded. “A short break wouldn’t hurt. Let anticipation build.”

  Kaelen tapped the table thoughtfully. “Or you could release a bonus chapter. Or a mini-story. Something small to keep readers hooked while you plan the bigger things.”

  Riven grinned. “Or — my vote — ride the momentum and start writing Sherlock Book Two immediately.”

  Lucien rubbed the back of his neck. “This is… a lot.”

  “Welcome to success,” Riven said brightly.

  Before Lucien could escape the conversation, Cerys arrived with a tray of fresh cinnamon buns, placing them on the table with a fond smile.

  Cerys glanced at the group with an amused smile. “You all look far too serious for a café table.”

  “We’re planning Lucien’s future,” Riven declared proudly.

  “Well,” Cerys said, setting the tray down, “plan all you want — but eat first.”

  Darius passed by with a cloth in hand, glancing toward the door.

  “That’s strange,” he murmured. “There are more students outside than usual.”

  Lucien looked up. “More students?”

  “Groups,” Darius clarified. “From MICF, I think. Just standing around outside like they’re waiting for something.”

  Riven smirked. “Told you. Your fame is catching up.”

  Lucien rolled his eyes, half-amused. “They’re probably waiting for the tram.”

  But even as he said it, Lucien’s wristlink buzzed — once, then again, then several times in fast succession.

  He frowned and swiped down the notifications bar.

  Before he could read anything, Alina burst out from the back hallway.

  “LUCI!” she yelled dramatically. “LUCI! You need to sit down!”

  Lucien blinked. “Alina… I am sitting.”

  She grabbed the back of his chair as if bracing him for impact.

  “Good! Good! Stay like that!”

  Lucien stared at her. “What is happening?”

  Alina leaned in, eyes sparkling, cheeks flushed with excitement.

  “Something HUGE is coming,” she whispered.

  Dorian paused mid-scroll. “How huge?”

  Alina beamed. “HUUUUGE.”

  Lucien had no idea what that meant — and that made it worse.

  Before he could press for answers, she darted off again, humming triumphantly, like she knew a secret the universe hadn’t told him yet.

  Lucien exchanged confused looks with his friends.

  Whatever was “huge,” he’d find out soon enough.

  One hour earlier, across the city at MICF, the final class of the day finally ended.

  Sera practically shot out of her seat.

  “Alright, everyone!” she whispered loudly to the small cluster of students lingering in the hallway. “Five p.m. at Café Ashborne. Don’t be late!”

  “Do we need to sign up somewhere?” one asked nervously.

  “It’s not an official event,” Sera said, waving her hands. “Just… show up.”

  “Do we… bring the book?”

  Sera stared.

  “…Obviously.”

  Beside her, Kiro was tapping rapidly on his wristlink.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “Confirming the meet-up thread,” he replied calmly. “These people will get lost without instructions.”

  Sera rolled her eyes. “Why are you like this?”

  “Because someone needs to be,” he said.

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  A small crowd of about fifteen students had gathered behind them — the same excited commenters from earlier.

  LanternLily bounced on her toes. “Do you think he’ll actually be there?”

  “Of course he will,” PageTurnerX said. “His family owns the café.”

  QuietInk clutched her book nervously. “What if we bother him? What if he’s working on something important?”

  CrownDropper answered confidently, “If he didn’t want fans, he shouldn’t have written something so good.”

  “That’s not how that works,” Kiro said.

  “Let me have this,” CrownDropper replied.

  As they walked toward the gate, the group’s chatter grew louder.

  “Do we ask for a signature?”

  “Does he do photos?”

  “What if he thinks we’re weird?”

  “He definitely will think we’re weird.”

  “Then we’ll introduce ourselves as a book club.”

  Several students groaned.

  “That’s worse!”

  Sera turned. “Everyone calm down! We’re not storming the palace. We’re just visiting a café.”

  “Where a famous author works,” someone whispered.

  “Stop calling him famous!” she hissed, though her cheeks were turning pink.

  Kiro ignored them and adjusted his bag. “We should leave now if we want to get there before five.”

  Sera nodded. “Right. Let’s go.”

  They set off in a vaguely coordinated cluster — not quite a line, not quite chaos.

  People on the street glanced over with mild confusion, probably wondering why a bunch of first-years were marching around with matching books.

  But to the group, this felt monumental — their first official fan outing.

  As they approached the café’s street, the building came into view.

  “Is that it?” LanternLily whispered.

  “Yeah,” Kiro said, tightening his grip on his book.

  “It looks… normal,” Riverstone88 said. “I don’t know what I expected.”

  Sera took a deep breath.

  “Okay, everyone. Remember — be polite, be respectful, don’t scream, and please don’t knock anything over.”

  A beat of silence.

  PageTurnerX raised his hand. “No promises.”

  Sera groaned.

  Kiro sighed.

  The bell above the café door chimed as the group stepped inside.

  Lucien looked up instinctively — and then froze.

  Fifteen students stood clustered at the entrance, holding copies of A Study in Scarlet like some kind of scholarly procession. Expressions ranged from shy hopefulness to wide-eyed excitement to sheer panic that they were actually doing this.

  Riven blinked.

  “…Is this a school project?”

  Kaelen whispered, “This feels like the start of a cult.”

  Seliora elbowed him.

  Dorian glanced at the group, then at Lucien, then at the group again.

  “Ah,” he murmured. “So this is what Alina meant by ‘huge.’”

  Lucien’s mind went blank.

  Before he could even stand up, one of the students — LanternLily — stepped forward, clutching her book to her chest.

  “U-Um… excuse me,” she said carefully. “Are you… Lucien Vale Ashborne?”

  Lucien blinked. Once. Twice.

  “…Yes?”

  A wave of excitement rippled through the group.

  Sera hissed under her breath, “Everyone be normal!”

  PageTurnerX immediately stepped forward and did the most not normal thing possible:

  He bowed.

  “Mr. Ashborne, sir — it’s an honor!”

  Riven choked.

  Kaelen slapped a hand over his own mouth to stop himself from laughing.

  Lucien turned bright red. “Please don’t bow. Please.”

  QuietInk timidly raised her copy. “C-Could you maybe… sign this? If that’s okay?”

  Lucien stared at the book, at her hopeful face, then at the book again.

  “Sign… as in autograph?”

  “Yes!” several of them said at once.

  Alina sprinted from behind the counter like she had been waiting for this exact moment.

  “Luci!” she squealed. “You have fans! Real fans! And they’re all here for you!”

  Cerys hurried after her, wiping her hands on her apron. “Oh my—are you all here for Lucien?”

  Everyone nodded enthusiastically.

  Darius let out a low breath. “Huh… look at that,” he said, trying—and failing—to sound casual.

  Lucien rubbed the back of his neck. “Um… I don’t really have an autograph. I’ve never signed anything like this.”

  Kiro stepped forward, surprisingly composed.

  “That’s alright,” he said. “Just write your name. People don’t come for calligraphy.”

  Sera added quickly, “Just write it however feels right!”

  Lucien gave a helpless, nervous laugh. “Okay… okay. I can try.”

  He took the book gently from QuietInk, hands steadying after a small tremor, and signed the first page with a simple, clean stroke:

  Lucien Vale Ashborne

  QuietInk beamed. “I’m never forgetting this.”

  Lucien cleared his throat to cover his embarrassment.

  More books were immediately presented.

  “Can you sign mine too?”

  “And mine?”

  “Take your time!”

  “No, take mine first—wait, no, sorry! You go—”

  “We can form a line! A line sounds good!”

  The café was quickly overtaken by cheerful chaos as books were passed, signatures requested, and fans chattered excitedly about favorite scenes.

  Seliora leaned over to Kaelen.

  “He’s handling this better than I expected.”

  Kaelen chuckled. “His knees are definitely wobbling, but yes.”

  Riven stretched smugly. “I told him fame was coming.”

  Dorian watched the scene unfold with quiet pride.

  “This is only the beginning,” he murmured.

  As the whirlwind of autographs and introductions finally settled, leaving the air buzzing with excitement… Lucien looked up at the group of eager faces — all holding their signed books like treasures — and a rush of warmth hit him.

  “Um… everyone,” he said, clearing his throat. “Please—take a seat. Really. The treats are on me today.”

  A wave of delighted murmurs swept through the fans.

  Sera mouthed, “Smooth.”

  Kiro mouthed back, “He’s bribing them.”

  Lucien looked over at his parents, smiling.

  “Do you think we can serve them something? Just a few plates and drinks?”

  Cerys nodded, a soft smile touching her lips.

  “Of course. Consider it done.”

  Darius nodded, already signaling the café staff. “You heard him — let’s set up the big table.”

  Within moments, the employees were moving efficiently, pulling tables together, setting cups, arranging pastries. Alina took charge happily, ferrying napkins and menus like the café’s tiniest manager.

  The fan group sat down in a buzzing cluster, still excited but finally comfortable.

  Kiro and Sera exchanged a quick look — the silent kind that said Okay, we should probably explain this before someone else does something weird.

  They stood up and approached Lucien’s table, Sera offering a small, nervous smile, and Kiro looking like he was trying very hard to appear professional.

  “Um… Mr. Ashborne,” Sera began.

  “Lucien is fine,” he said quickly.

  She nodded, flustered. “Right. Lucien. So… we, uh… wanted to tell you something.”

  Kaelen leaned toward Riven. “Here comes the confession.”

  Riven smirked. “Watch it be something wild.”

  Sera took a deep breath. “We made a fan page for you.”

  Lucien blinked. “…A what?”

  Kiro stepped in, folding his arms in the way he did when explaining something complicated.

  “A fan page,” he repeated. “Dedicated to your work. Discussions, quotes, threads, updates. A proper community hub.”

  Lucien stared. “People… already need a hub?”

  “Apparently,” Riven whispered.

  Sera nodded eagerly. “Yes! And people are already joining. Talking. Sharing what they loved. And… today’s meet-up happened because of it.”

  Lucien’s eyes widened. “You organized all this?”

  Kiro lifted a hand. “Technically, the page organized it. We just… facilitated.”

  Evelis covered a smile behind her cup. “You two seem very capable.”

  Sera lit up at the compliment. “Thank you!”

  Dorian, who had been observing quietly, leaned forward. “You created it today?”

  Both nodded.

  “With moderation tools, structured threads, community rules, and event prompts?” Dorian asked, genuinely impressed.

  Kiro straightened subtly. “Yes.”

  “That’s… fast,” Dorian muttered.

  “It’s not the stone age,” Sera added helpfully.

  Lucien gave a small, helpless smile.

  “I don’t really know anything about running a fan page.”

  “You will,” Sera said brightly.

  Kiro nodded. “We’ll manage things for now. But as your following grows, you’ll want a way to interact with readers directly — or at least receive feedback.”

  Dorian tapped his fingers thoughtfully. “He’s right.”

  Lucien blinked. “Hmm… I guess that makes sense.”

  “Very,” Dorian said. “You’ll eventually need official channels — pages, accounts, maybe even newsletters. Feedback, engagement, questions, announcements… it all becomes important.”

  He looked at Kiro and Sera. “But since the two of you seem reliable and already have a head start, having a direct line of contact with you would be useful.”

  Kiro’s eyes widened a fraction. Sera almost squeaked.

  “You mean—” Sera began.

  Lucien lifted his wristlink casually.

  “Do you two want my contact? It’ll be easier to coordinate that way.”

  Kiro’s composure cracked. “Yes. Of course.”

  Sera nodded so fast she nearly dropped her slate. “Absolutely!”

  He smiled softly. “Then it’s settled.”

  Sera’s excitement bubbled over. “We’ll keep the page updated, handle discussions, and let you know whenever something big happens.”

  “And if fans become too… eccentric,” Kiro added diplomatically, “we’ll screen things before they reach you.”

  Lucien gave a shaky laugh. “That… sounds helpful.”

  Dorian nodded approvingly. “Good. You’ll have more than one fan community in the future, but it’s smart to have a core you trust from the beginning.”

  Sera straightened proudly.

  “We won’t let you down.”

  Kiro nodded, serious.

  “We’ll manage it well.”

  Lucien smiled, still overwhelmed but grateful.

  “Thank you. Truly.”

  And just like that?— in the middle of Café Ashborne, surrounded by early fans, warm pastries, and the soft hum of conversation — Lucien’s first real team outside his friends and family quietly came into existence.