The Western Parlor was one of the smallest receiving rooms in the entire Velmoria Estate, but that did not mean that he was being snubbed by being invited to it— it was also the most exclusive and only those that carried Velmoria blood in their veins or had been invited by someone that did, were invited inside.
On days where official banquets were held in the Velmoria Estate, such an honor would usually mean an invitation from the Duke himself. Today was not one of those days, thankfully for Lucan, but it meant that neither Mira nor any other attendant would be allowed to stay in the room once the two nobles started conversing.
The interior of the parlor was plush and cozy, with pairs of high-backed chairs arranged placed around low wooden tables with lacquered surfaces that were polished to a shine, arranged around the far side of the parlor in a crescent, clustered around an inglenook fireplace, whose flames stemmed from fire-attuned mana stones supplying it from below. Instead of a large banquet table or an impressive ball, the western parlor was for discussions best engaged in low voices and hushed whispers.
A buffet was laid out on the opposite end of the parlor, with plates enough to feed a few hundred arranged on an elongated serving table next to it, even though the household staff was well aware that only two people would be gracing the western parlor today. Crystal decanters that contained wine and other spirits also had their own place in the buffet’s arrangement, the vessels glittering under the soft light of the chandelier hanging overhead.
Lucan’s gaze had been arrested by the sight of those decanters when he’d stepped into the room and for a moment, he’d almost forgotten why he’d come to meet Eileen. It was as if he had been hypnotized by the sight and giving in was easier than ever— all he had to do was walk over and pour himself a glass and Eileen wouldn’t stop him, not because she didn’t care, but because she didn’t know Lucan had already gone through three days of withdrawal.
He’d had enough bottles in his room stashed for 2 weeks of his drinking habits and emptying them out had been one of the most difficult things he’d done in recent memory. Only Mira, the one person who wouldn’t sell him out to the duchess, knew about that. As far as choosing a time to quit, Lucan had chosen a pretty spectacular time… if he lasted.
Pulling away took more force of will than Lucan thought he was capable of and only reminding himself of Silvas Anderle’s last stand, of the lone man standing before the ruins of his own castle, the last piece of unconquered piece of territory that remained in the Kingdom of Nostura, of the losses that had preceded him, of how the Velmoria estate, Mira, his mother and… Eileen, who he had slowly turned his gaze to, had all perished.
So, he found himself seated opposite Eileen, the receding footsteps of her butler sounding out in the background as he walked towards the entrance Lucan had entered from and shut the door behind him.
“Brother,” Eileen took the lead in addressing him, her tone carrying an aristocratic pride and refinement that was very hard to mimic without prohibitively expensive tutors drilling lessons on tone and inflection, among a hundred other small quirks of noble society that Lucan found entirely meaningless, because in his eyes, no matter how refined he tried to sound or how thoroughly he studied the minutiae of their way, he would still be a bastard in their calculating gazes.
“Sister,” Lucan acknowledged, his tone casual, because his general studies teacher had been a commoner who focused on teaching him language and history instead of what angle to hold his head at when addressing an equal, a superior or an inferior. Though Lucan knew just enough not to get executed in an audience with a royal, thankfully.
“You must be happy,” Eileen spoke, her tone one of wistfulness as her gaze swept across the western parlor instead of meeting Lucan’s. “Now that you get to escape this place.”
“I can’t claim that I’m not,” Lucan admitted, not one for dancing around the subject, which was very much unlike his noble brethren.
Eileen nodded, not surprised by the admission. “In a year, it will be my turn.”
“Should be easier for you, with your Ice and Water affinities,” Lucan noted. “The comparisons next year are going to be pretty insufferable next year, sister. B+ Grade Affinities in two elements, one of which is the inheritance of House Velmoria, well, that’s going to be fun,” He guessed, his growing amusement reflected in his tone.
Eileen winced, her lips pulling into a line before she replied, “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I know.”
“Then, why did you have to bring it up like that?”
“Because that’s what older brothers do, runt,” Lucan teased.
Eileen blinked, as if she couldn’t believe what Lucan had just said. Theirs was not a relationship of casual jokes and familial teasing, or at least, it hadn’t been up until yesterday.
“Runt?” Eileen asked, her tone feigning offense. “You’re not even a year older than me. ”
“Eleven whole months,” Lucan clarified. “And, still older,” He said with a shrug.
Eileen’s gaze met his own, her gray eyes searching, no, scouring his face as if she was trying to reconcile with the fact that the person sitting before him was still her step-brother, a bitter, tormented person who had good reason to hate if not the world, then his own blood relatives and indeed, did, a truth which bled into his demeanor and actions. Then, unexpected to even herself, a laugh escaped her lips and followed through into proper laughter.
“I don’t know what inspired it,” Eileen began. “But you really have changed.”
“For the better?” Lucan asked.
“That is not my place to judge,” Eileen answered. “Not as a whole. But for me, yes. I prefer this side of you.”
“I’ll take that compliment,” Lucan nodded approvingly. “Now, was there anything specific you wished to tell me?”
Eileen’s expression sobered, the amusement escaping her face as she nodded. “I wanted to tell you to be careful.”
“What of?”
“I know that your education hasn’t been the most… comprehensive,” Eileen said, choosing her phrasing carefully. “And that puts you in danger when it comes to the Imperial Academy. It’s not exactly a physical sort of danger, but it is dangerous nonetheless. Most houses aren’t as militaristic as ours, they don’t expect their heirs to train on the front lines and not everyone can be gifted at combat magic. Neither are their Houses expected to keep the threat from foreign nations at bay and honestly, it is a post that few envy and even fewer covet. But that does not change the fact that House Velmoria is very powerful and it has many friends and even more enemies.”
Lucan nodded along.
“So the most important purpose for the Imperial Academy for nobles is the opportunity to make connections,” Eileen exchanged. “The royal family isn’t very happy about it, but it’s the price they pay for being in charge of noble children’s education. And these noble children are desperate to prove themselves in the eyes of their parents, whether that be a second child trying to prove his worth or a first born trying to prove his heritage, so they are willing to go to extreme lengths to build alliances and make it clear who their enemies are. Normally, this shouldn’t concern you too much, because House Velmoria does not need to lower itself to seek other allies and it’s enemies would not act out openly, but in your case…” Eileen’s gaze turned downwards, as shame spread across her expression.
“Oh,” Lucan muttered. “Oh, I see it now,” The words escaped his lips. He had memories of the future, yes, which meant that he knew the major events as and when they happened, but recalling the specifics would mean hours of meditation, calling upon exchanges of conversation, settings, actions as and when they happened— because it wasn’t his own memory bank he was calling upon and he was experiencing everything for the first time, if only as a recollection. He knew, because he had tried, and accessing the memory bank was a time sink—- 4 hours spent for every one hour of detailed interactions, for any of the normal, not life-changing or unforgettable events that were seared in Silvas’ memories.
Not entirely sure that Lucan had understood fully what she was trying to say, Elieen blurted out, “Mother has a lot of friends.”
“Right,” Lucan slowly nodded.
“So in your case, uh, both enemies and friends of House Velmoria might have a reason to antagonize you. Within limits, of course. You are still the heir by the Duke’s implicit blessings, so they can’t take it too far. But the problem isn’t what they do to you, it’s more how you respond.”
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“Why’s that?”
“They know about your weakness, brother,” Eileen explained. “You haven’t been trained in the workings of noble society. If you choose the wrong response, you can turn an ally of house Velmoria into an enemy. Not because they’re unaware of how you were educated and how you aren’t aware of the consequences of your words, but because they were already looking for a justification to jump ship and used you for it. Or maybe you go too far and lash out in a way that actually justifies such a response, lest the House in question be seen as weak.”
“I’m guessing there’s a reason why that’s my problem,” Lucan said.
Eileen nodded, her gaze turning sharp as she revealed, “If you hurt House Velmoria’s interests, Mother will have the justification she needs to go after you.”
“I’ll be disowned?” Lucan guessed.
Eileen nodded.
“Well, that’s not good,” He muttered, knowing that if he didn’t have his legal status, he was as good as dead— let alone what would happen to his mother.
“No it is not,” Eileen agreed. “They will come at you from different angles, so you must not give them what they want. Do not say something that cannot be taken back. Do not hint at a duel, ignore them. Do not meet insults with insults, for their phrasing will be clever and practiced while yours will not. And do not fight back if you are assaulted, run instead. Because their witnesses will be many and few will stand up for you. Oh and do not get close to commoner students, they can and will be bought and used against you. Or pressured or forced otherwise.”
“... is there anything else?” Lucan asked, his tone dry despite the litany of warnings being issued to him.
“Don’t date a commoner for the same reasons,” Eileen added, her tone sounding perfectly business-like despite being a teenager talking about her brother’s future love interest. “If you want to date a noble, well, find out what her family’s attitude towards House Velmoria is first. Ideally, someone from a house allied against us would be ideal.”
“Wait what, how?” Lucan asked.
“Allied against us, but not sworn enemies,” Eileen clarified. “Isn’t the answer simple? Because you do House Velmoria a service by creating a blood alliance for us. Or it falls through and you’d have tried.”
“Right,” Lucan nodded, as if that made sense to him.
“Don’t look at me like that, brother. You are a noble too and you outrank not just me— you outrank most academy students and even lesser royals cannot make you bow, let alone kneel.”
“Still won’t stop them from kicking my teeth in,” Lucan countered.
“They’ll try to make it look like an accident,” Eileen replied, her words cuttingly honest.
“Well, thanks for letting me know, I guess,” Lucan said, before a sigh escaped his lips. “Really, thank you Eileen,” He said with an earnestness he seldom displayed. He would’ve found out this eventually in his meditation sessions, but Lucan was the one who presumably got bullied not Silvas, so it wasn’t something he’d directly need to remember or experience and they’d only become friends after Lucan had revealed his prowess, seemingly out of nowhere.
From what he recounted of Silvas Anderle’s impression of him, he largely stuck to himself, had one more friend apart from Silvas, a commoner woman called Cynthia, didn’t talk at all about his magic to anyone besides Cynthia despite there being many people curious how he could use Shadow Mana so well and the tidbit that he was best friends with his maid. Which was something considered odd in noble circles, so Silvas had taken note of it.
Honestly, after considering more about it, Lucan was pretty sure past him had only let him close because Silvas was obsessed with getting stronger to the point where he hadn’t even dated in college and cared for little outside the path of the aura knight. Had past Lucan even had an inkling that Silvas was interested in his magic, he would’ve broken contact without hesitation.
Because overly curious people were annoying and because it looked like past Lucan had already learned his lesson by the time Silvas met him in his third year of Imperial Academy.
So in a nutshell, Eileen might have saved him months of some pretty ruthless experiences, just because he spoke to her with compassion and called her sister.
A chill ran down Lucan’s spine as he realized that he had already changed the present and thereby the future. Eileen might have tried to counsel past Lucan too, but he would be too distrustful, too apathetic, too drunk or all three of the above to care about her warning, of that he was certain.
“It’s the least I can do after—,”
“No,” Lucan said. “It’s not the least you can do, Eileen. Your mother’s actions are not your actions. No matter what happens, your mother is not you. Remember that.”
Eileen looked completely caught off-guard by Lucan’s comment and to his surprise, her eyes looked a little watery before she started blinking quickly to clear them.
“Thank you,” Eileen whispered.
Lucan just nodded, not entirely sure what he was feeling at the moment, though to him it felt like Eileen had been waiting for someone to say those words to her.
“Now, since you told me something you probably weren’t supposed to,” Lucan started changing the conversation, not wanting to see his little sister burst into tears before him, which he felt was exactly what would happen if he left the silence between them linger. “How about I repay the favor by doing something similar?”
Curiosity replaced whatever cocktail of emotions that were brewing behind her gaze and so Eileen asked, “Oh? And what is that something similar?”
“Well,” Lucan began, his expression turning uncharacteristically somber as he leaned forward to whisper in her ears.
“You don’t have to do that,” Eileen replied. “No one’s trying to listen on this conversation.”
Lucan raised an eyebrow at the confidence in her tone.
“My mother dines with other Dukes and Duchesses, the most accomplished of generals, the most famed artists in the land and sometimes, even the King and Queen themselves. It is a game of power that she plays, at the highest of echelons. You cannot sit at those tables without a certain level of self-assuredness. She won’t bother trying something as petty as listening in on her own daughter, that would be beneath her, no, it would demean her. The Duchess knows what I am capable of and she knows what cards I have to play,” Eileen explained with certainty in her tone. “And she knows what cards I will not. So, she is aware that I might offer you a warning before your departure.”
“But doesn’t that…,” Lucan trailed off.
“It doesn’t matter,” Eileen replied. “Or we wouldn’t be having this conversation. She believes that…,” Eileen hesitated.
“Hit me,” Lucan almost demanded.”
“She believes that it wouldn’t matter,” Eileen finally replied. “Or we wouldn’t be having this conversation. She believes that someone like… well, you, cannot change overnight. So you will have to do something remarkable or a string of minor merits before she starts seeing you as a piece on the board once again.”
Well, she isn’t wrong, Lucan thought. Poor mother never had a chance against a creature of this magnitude.
“That’s convenient,” Lucan admitted, but he wasn’t willing to budge on trying to keep things hush-hush. So he pulled out his notebook, plucked the quill with a metal nub from where it was sitting inside an inkpot and simply wrote three words.
Three days sober.
Then he slid the notebook in Eileen’s direction.
She read the words quickly, before gazing in Lucan’s direction to confirm the sombre expression on his face.
Then she stared at the words again.
“Lucan, what happened to you?” She asked in a trembling whisper, for the changes he had displayed in the last three days were greater than the ones that had taken place in the last three years. The Duchess was right in the fact that Lucan would not have changed, not without a catalyst that brought them out of their own world and even after that they had to sustain that change, through each painful day and prove themselves to the world again. Prove that they would not go back once things inevitably got tougher. He wasn’t sure about the people part, because people were many and many people were much stronger than the world thought them to be—- there had been too many heroes in the war from the previous timeline, too many with unspoken names who had proven themselves above and beyond what anyone had asked of them. But for him, he had needed that something, a push that took him somewhere else long enough for him to wake up.
And fate had delivered Lucan his catalyst.
So no matter what happened to him, no matter how the world tried to tear him apart, no matter how painful— how terrible and how ugly it got, no matter how many tears of despair he shed,
He would not go back.
Lucan smiled and answered, “That my dear sister, is a story for another day. Now I believe that it is time for us to be exchanging our farewells.”
For a moment, it looked like Eileen wanted to argue, but in the end she just nodded before rising from her seat.
Lucan offered her an outstretched hand after both of them had moved a step away from the table separating them.
Eileen waited a moment, before finally grasping it.
Parting handshakes in the context of relatives usually meant that there was some distance keeping them from drawing in closer, even Lucan wasn’t so disconnected so as to not recognize that.
And it was true, there was a distance between them, one that in the view of the ever so cunning Duchess, could not be bridged.
So Lucan pulled her into an embrace, causing a startled yelp to escape her, before he started tousling her ever so perfectly combed silver hair.
Eileen’s surprise was forgotten by her outrage as she protested, “Hey, watch it. Do you know how hard it is to maintain that?”
Letting go of her, Lucan laughed in earnest at the sight of Eileen’s dishevelled hair, as she shot him a look that was somewhere between amusement and sheer unexpectedness.
“Get over it, it’s not like you comb it yourself,” Lucan countered, sticking out his tongue.
Eileen looked like she had been slapped in the face and Lucan had to suppress his chuckle this time, because it felt like a mistake.
Then he said, “Take care of yourself, sister. Write to me and if the messages reach me, I promise to write back.”
“I will,” Eileen finally replied. “Don’t get into too much trouble and I’ll see you in a year.”
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