Chapter 501: Permission (2)
"I don't want him."
The words left her lips too quickly. Too sharply.
Aeliana kept her expression still, but inside—her heart was slamming against her ribs, fast and unsteady.
She wasn't lying.
Was she?
Her father studied her for a moment, his golden eyes flickering with something unreadable. Then, as if deciding there was nothing more to say, he leaned back in his chair.
"Very well," he said simply. "I will see to it that he is compensated for his efforts. If nothing else, he has done a service for our family. I will ensure that he is well-rewarded, and that he does not interfere with your future any further—"
Aeliana's breath caught.
Wait.
What?
He continued, speaking as if the matter was already settled. "I will see to it that he has no reason to trouble you again. There is no need for you to concern yourself with—"
"No!"
The word slipped out before she could stop it.
Her father raised an eyebrow, pausing mid-sentence.
Aeliana stiffened, her fists tightening in her lap.
Damn it.
She could feel the heat rising to her face, the undeniable twist in her chest.
Her lips pressed together. She couldn't take the words back. And yet—she didn't know how to move forward either.
Her father watched her in silence, waiting.
Aeliana swallowed hard, forcing herself to breathe. Then—her voice lower, hesitant, unsteady—she muttered,
"...I may want him?"
It wasn't a declaration.
It wasn't even a solid statement.
But—
It was enough.
And the second she said it, she knew.
She knew it was the truth.
Thaddeus narrowed his golden eyes, his fingers tapping lightly against the armrest of his chair. His gaze sharpened—not angry, not disapproving, just assessing.
"What is it, then?" he asked, voice steady. "Do you want him, or do you not?"
Aeliana's jaw clenched.
What kind of question was that?
Did he think she had the answer? That she could just—just say it out loud?
She didn't even know what she wanted.
Her fists tightened in her lap, her breath coming quicker. She could feel it—the heat rising in her chest, the pressure building under his unwavering scrutiny.
And then—
"Don't meddle with my affairs!" she snapped, her glare sharp as a blade. "I will deal with this on my own!"
Silence.
Thaddeus exhaled slowly, his gaze remaining steady, unfazed.
For a moment, she thought he might push further.
But then—
"Very well," he said simply.
Aeliana blinked, caught off guard by the ease of his response.
She had expected another argument, another round of cold logic and calculated words.
Instead—
Her father leaned back, watching her with something almost amused.
Almost.
Aeliana narrowed her eyes. "...What?"
Thaddeus shook his head. "Nothing."
It wasn't nothing.
She could feel it.
Something in his expression. In the way he was looking at her now.
Like he knew something she didn't.
And that—
That really irritated her.
But there was not much that she could do about that.
Aeliana exhaled sharply, pressing her fingers to her temple. She had already spent too much time in this room, too much time under his scrutiny, too much time thinking about him.
Lucavion.
That irritating, reckless bastard.
Her father's gaze lingered on her, but she ignored it, rising from her chair with a sigh. "I'm leaving."
Thaddeus didn't stop her. He only nodded once, as if he had already expected this. "Go, then."
Aeliana frowned slightly at how easy that was, but she didn't question it.
She had no patience left for another conversation—not when there was too much circling in her mind already.
Too many memories. Too many realizations.
She turned toward the door, her fingers brushing the cool metal of the handle—
And then—
"Aeliana."
She stiffened.
Her father's voice was quieter this time, lower.
She hesitated but didn't turn back. "…What?"
A brief pause.
"…Don't take too long figuring it out."
Her grip on the door handle tightened.
Something about those words—about the way he said them—made her chest clench.
But she didn't respond.
She only pushed the door open and stepped out, letting it close behind her.
*****
Thaddeus exhaled slowly, his golden eyes lingering on the door his daughter had just walked through.
The thing was—
He knew that look.
He knew his daughter well.
Young heart, is it?
It had been a long, long time since he had seen something like that.
Aeliana had always been sharp, always carried herself with a poised, almost untouchable air. She had been raised as the heir of the Duchy, despite the obstacles placed upon her. Even when she was bedridden, even when her illness made her future uncertain, she never once looked at someone like that.
And now—
Now she had.
It was subtle, but it was there.
He had once worn that same expression.
Once.
A long time ago.
Thaddeus leaned back in his chair, dragging a hand down his face. Even though he still had a long road ahead of him as an 8-rank Awakened, even though he was far from an old man, love affairs had never once crossed his mind since the loss of his wife.
To be frank, both his father and his attendants had urged him to remarry more times than he could count.
The logic had been sound.
With Aeliana's condition deteriorating, the Duchy had been left without a qualified heir. And an heir was necessary. The noble houses needed stability, needed certainty.
And in their eyes, he needed another child. Preferably a male one.
But—
He never did.
He never could.
And now?
Now, Aeliana had recovered.
The Duchy had its heir again.
Things would be smoother. The pressures on him to remarry would ease, and yet—
Somehow… I doubt that will stop the old men from nagging me about it.
Thaddeus sighed.
As if he had the time for such things.
He had too much to deal with already. The Royal Family's increasing pressure on his house. The fallout from the recent expedition. The growing instability of the empire's internal politics.
And now—
Lucavion.
That boy had thrown himself into his life like a blade slicing through paper, reckless and confident and utterly unconcerned with consequences.
And his daughter—
His daughter had noticed.
'Tch.'
Thaddeus exhaled sharply, rubbing his temple.
He didn't know if this would lead to something—or if it would end in disaster.
As Thaddeus sat in the dimming quiet of his study, his fingers absently tapped against the polished wood of his desk. His mind, usually a fortress of calculated strategy and measured control, found itself circling back—again and again—to the same thought.
That smile.
The one Aeliana had shown, brief yet unmistakably real.
It had been years since he had seen anything like it.
For so long, her face had only held quiet endurance, silent suffering, and a carefully maintained distance from everything around her. Even before her illness had worsened, even before she had been confined to her chambers, she had never been joyful.
And yet—
Today.
Today, for the first time in what felt like an eternity, he had seen a flicker of something different. Something alive.
A warmth he had not been able to give her.
A color that had not come from his protection, nor his power, nor his endless efforts to ensure she had the best of everything.
No.
It had come from that kid.
Lucavion.
That reckless, aggravating, uncontrollable boy.
Thaddeus exhaled sharply through his nose, shaking his head. Tch.
It was absurd. Unreasonable. Impossible to explain in political terms.
And yet—
All of the things that made this situation dangerous, all of the risks I am about to take…
They no longer mattered.
Because if Lucavion had done what he could not—if he had managed to bring back something Aeliana had lost long ago—
Then so be it.
Thaddeus closed his eyes briefly before letting out a quiet, rare chuckle.
"Heh…."
A smile ghosted across his lips—faint, almost unnoticeable, but there.
Then, just as quickly, it was gone.
His golden eyes sharpened once more, and with the weight of a decision fully made, he turned toward the door.
It was time to get serious.
"Call the butler," Thaddeus ordered, his voice firm. "And notify, Reinhardt. He is to be here immediately."
The guards outside moved instantly, one stepping into the hall to summon the necessary attendants.
Because from this moment forward—
The Duke appeared to has returned to his normal state.
Chapter 502: Anne
'Hah… it really could have gone badly, couldn't it?'
Lucavion let the thought settle as he walked, his steps light yet measured against the vast marble corridors of the Thaddeus mansion. The place was too big—elegant, refined, built for grandeur rather than comfort. Ornate chandeliers cast their glow over towering stone archways, their cold brilliance making the space feel more like a monument than a home.
'Then again, I suppose that is befitting of the strongest duchy. This place is even bigger than that one.'
His fingers twitched at the memory, but he brushed it aside, focusing on the now.
He had expected resistance—expected scrutiny, doubt, even outright rejection. The Duke had hesitated, his gaze a steely weight pressing down, searching for the cracks in Lucavion's intentions. He had seen through the surface, through the words meant to imply rather than state, and yet—he had still agreed.
'Honor, was it? A nobleman's sense of duty? Or…' Lucavion exhaled, rubbing at his temple. 'Perhaps something else entirely. Thaddeus is no fool. He knew I was maneuvering him into a position where refusal would be more troublesome than acceptance. Yet, despite that, he still took the bait.'
That should have been the end of it. Should have.
But his mind wouldn't stop picking apart the possibilities.
'He could have just refused outright. Told me my background was too dubious, that my words were too carefully chosen. He could have ignored the Starlight Mana I revealed—dismissed it as a trick, a cheap display, or something meant to deceive. He could have simply found everything about me too much and abandoned all pretense of honor.'
And yet, none of that had happened.
Instead, the pieces had fallen exactly where he needed them to. Not without obstacles, of course—nothing ever went smoothly, not in a world like this. But most of those had been managed. No, most of those had been thanks to—
"…Little Ember."
The words left his lips before he fully processed them, a murmur swallowed by the vast emptiness of the hall.
Aeliana.
'Tsk. I suppose I owe you.'
Lucavion sighed, rolling his shoulders as he pushed forward. It wasn't an easy admission, even in the privacy of his own thoughts. Aeliana had backed him up in a way that no one else in that room could have. Her presence alone had been a calculated advantage—a balancing act between expectation and tension, between loyalty and personal will.
And, in the end, it had worked.
'Though, really… it's still a dangerous game to play.'
He let the thought linger but didn't chase it. There was no need—not yet.
Instead, his focus shifted back to the mansion itself, to the sheer scale of it.
The Strongest Duchy. That was what they called it.
And from what he had seen so far?
'They do live up to the title.'
As Lucavion walked through the long halls of the Thaddeus mansion, he let his gaze wander, taking in the details around him.
The architecture was—grand, to say the least. Towering columns stretched towards the ceiling, their surfaces adorned with intricate engravings of past victories and noble insignias. The walls, lined with paintings of former Dukes and battlefield scenes, carried a heavy air of history, as if the very foundation of this place had been built on conquest and legacy.
Golden chandeliers hung overhead, their candlelit glow casting warm light over the deep, navy-blue carpets that softened his steps. Suits of armor stood against the walls, their polished steel gleaming under the flickering flames. Some bore the Thaddeus crest—a coiled dragon wreathed in storm clouds—while others had more intricate designs, likely trophies from past wars.
'It looks kind of cool, not going to lie…'
His fingers traced over the smooth wood of a banister, appreciating the craftsmanship even if he had little knowledge of such things. Perhaps he should commission a mansion like this?
The thought barely lasted a second before he scoffed, shaking his head.
'Yeah, no. Definitely not my thing.'
Lucavion preferred movement, freedom. A life where he wasn't bound to one place, one roof, one set of expectations. This kind of mansion, no matter how grand, felt more like a cage than a home.
And, if he was being honest, places like this carried memories he'd rather not entertain.
He exhaled, letting the thought drift away.
"Ahem… Mister Luca."
A soft voice cut through his musings.
Turning his head, he found himself face-to-face with a young maid, barely past her teenage years. She was petite, her uniform crisp and properly arranged, but her posture gave her away—stiff, uncertain, nervous. Her hands clutched the edges of her apron as if grounding herself, and though she tried to maintain eye contact, the flicker of hesitation was clear.
"I will be escorting you," she announced, her voice steady but shy.
Lucavion studied her for a second, his smirk growing just slightly.
'Ah. A fledgling.'
It was obvious. This girl had been sent for the more cumbersome tasks—the kind that required minimal risk and interaction. Likely new to service, possibly intimidated by the grandeur of the house itself, and undoubtedly still finding her footing.
'Let me teach you the harshness of the world.'
With a slow nod, he agreed, his tone neutral. "Hmm… okay."
Then, almost as if on instinct, the urge struck him.
A teasing flicker of amusement sparked in his mind, a small grin creeping onto his lips.
How should he go about this?
Lucavion tilted his head slightly, watching the young maid with amused curiosity.
"And your name?" he asked smoothly, his voice carrying an easy charm.
The girl stiffened slightly, as if she hadn't expected him to ask. For a moment, she hesitated, then finally answered, her voice barely above a whisper.
"A-Anne, sir. My name is Anne."
"Anne, huh?" Lucavion repeated, rolling the name on his tongue as if testing its weight. He let his gaze linger on her for a beat longer than necessary, his smirk deepening ever so slightly.
"You know, Anne," he mused, his voice dipping into something lower, smoother, just enough to make the air between them shift. "I was expecting a guide, but I didn't realize I'd be escorted by someone quite so—" his eyes flickered over her face, drinking in the way she nervously gripped the hem of her apron, "—adorable."
Immediately, the poor girl went red.
Lucavion could see the exact moment her mind short-circuited—her eyes widened, her lips parted in shock, and her whole face burned like a freshly ignited ember.
"I—wha—uhm—" Anne stammered, clearly caught off guard, her hands tightening around the fabric she was clutching.
Lucavion chuckled under his breath, pleased with the result. Such a fresh reaction. It was the kind of innocence that didn't last long in this world, the kind that would eventually be worn down by reality.
And yet, something about it felt… familiar.
His mind flickered back to that time at the inn, back when a certain girl had reacted just as flusteredly to his words.
What was her name again?
'Ah… Greta?'
Yes. Greta. The girl who had been working at that rundown inn, the one caught in the middle of that whole mess. She had been so skittish back then—practically trembling when he had teased her just like this.
And now?
'Well. I suppose she's in a better state now.'
After all, Ragna—the so-called tyrant of that small town—had chosen to redeem himself. With him keeping things in order, the town should have stabilized.
Lucavion exhaled, letting the thought drift. The past had already been settled; there was no need to dwell on it.
For now, he had more immediate entertainment.
He glanced back at Anne, who was still visibly struggling to regain composure, her blush refusing to fade.
"Hmm," he hummed, tilting his head with a smirk. "You alright there, Anne? Should I be worried that my escort is about to faint before we even begin?"
Her eyes darted away, her grip on her apron tightening further. "N-No, sir! I—I am completely fine!"
Lucavion chuckled again, placing a hand on his chin in feigned thought.
"Oh? Completely fine, you say?"
It felt to him like a challenge, and a mistake on Anne's part.
Had she known, she would never say those words.
Chapter 503: The cat's return
"Oh? Completely fine, you say?"
Lucavion barely gave Anne time to recover before he reached out, his fingers brushing against the warmth of her cheek. His touch was light—barely there, just enough to test how much further she could possibly fluster.
"Hmm… quite a finely developed one indeed," he murmured, tilting his head as if appraising her like some rare find.
Anne completely froze.
"H—Hiek!"
She jumped right where she stood, nearly toppling backward in sheer panic, her wide, panicked eyes darting between his hand and his amused expression.
That did it.
Lucavion laughed.
A sharp, genuine chuckle spilled out of him, quickly escalating into something closer to a full-bodied laugh. His shoulders shook as he straightened, running a hand through his hair, thoroughly entertained by the sheer purity of her reaction.
"Ahahaha… Oh, Anne, you're going to have a hard time if this is how you react to harmless teasing," he mused, still grinning.
Just as he was about to continue, a voice—not one from the room, but from within—slipped into his thoughts, weaving through his mind with the familiarity of an old companion.
[Don't tease the poor girl too much.]
Lucavion's laughter stilled.
For a brief moment, his mind quieted, his expression unreadable as the realization sank in.
That voice.
That damn voice.
A slow smirk crept onto his lips, his fingers brushing his temple as if to ground himself.
'Heh… Here I thought you'd never find me.'
His thoughts carried the same teasing lilt as his voice, but underneath it, there was something else—something lighter, something almost… pleased.
'Good day to you too, Vitaliara.'
[Humph.]
Lucavion could hear the little huff of indignation in her response, and that—that alone—was enough to make something in his chest settle.
It had been a while since he last heard her voice in his head.
And whether he'd admit it or not—he had missed it.
Lucavion barely had a moment to enjoy Vitaliara's presence in his mind before he noticed something odd.
Anne stood frozen, still clutching her apron like a lifeline—but now, there was a small shimmer trailing down her cheek.
A tear.
Lucavion raised an eyebrow.
'What? This was enough to make her cry?'
[You are such a bully as usual.]
Vitalaria's voice carried a teasing lilt, but beneath it was an unmistakable note of amusement.
'Hey! That was not my intention.'
[Yeah, yeah… surely.]
Lucavion clicked his tongue, his smirk fading just a little as he sighed.
"Alright, alright," he muttered under his breath, shaking his head.
The poor girl looked completely overwhelmed—shoulders tense, eyes wet, clearly struggling to process what had just happened. As much as he enjoyed a bit of harmless fun, this was pushing it.
She needed a breather.
Deciding to dial things back, he reached out—this time, not to tease. A flicker of mana surged in his palm as he accessed his spatial storage, and within seconds, a small, neatly folded handkerchief appeared between his fingers.
Without a word, he stepped forward and gently dabbed the corner of her eye, wiping away the stray tear with surprising care.
"Ahem…" He cleared his throat, his voice noticeably softer. "I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean to—"
Lucavion sighed, pressing the handkerchief against Anne's cheek with slow, deliberate movements, wiping away the lingering tear with unexpected gentleness.
"See? All better," he murmured, his voice a fraction softer than before.
The girl sniffled lightly but didn't pull away, her brown eyes wide and innocent as she blinked up at him, still visibly processing everything that had just happened.
Lucavion paused for a moment, studying her properly this time. She really was young. Too young to be working in a place like this, probably. And given how she had been thrown into escorting him—someone completely unfamiliar, someone who clearly enjoyed making people squirm—it was starting to make sense.
'Ah… I see now.'
This wasn't just random selection.
'The other maids probably sent her here on purpose.'
A test. A chance to gain experience.
And, well… she did get experience.
Maybe not the kind they intended, but experience nonetheless.
Because in a world like this, people like him existed. Smooth talkers, opportunists, people who could make a girl's heart race with a few well-placed words.
'Better to be prepared for that, isn't it?'
[You are just justifying yourself.]
Lucavion smirked slightly, way too unbothered.
'So what?'
[…]
Vitalaria didn't respond, but he could feel the exasperation radiating from her.
With a flick of his wrist, Lucavion reached into his storage once more. This time, he pulled out a small trinket—a silver charm in the shape of a crescent moon, simple but elegant. He had picked it up a long time ago, never having a real reason to use it.
Now seemed like as good a time as any.
"Here." He placed it into Anne's trembling hands, his smirk still lingering but his tone surprisingly smooth. "A gift. For enduring my horrible bullying."
Anne blinked rapidly, staring down at the charm in shock. "S-Sir, I—"
"No need for formalities," Lucavion interrupted smoothly, waving a hand. "Just take it. Consider it… a reward for making it through your first real encounter with someone like me."
She clutched the charm tightly, her fingers curling around it as if afraid it would vanish. Her lips parted, but for a moment, no words came.
Lucavion chuckled. Such a fresh reaction.
"Don't think too hard about it, Anne," he added, stuffing his hands back into his pockets. "Just take it and go brag to your fellow maids. Experience, after all, is valuable."
Anne's brown eyes flickered with something unspoken—gratitude, embarrassment, or maybe just sheer confusion—but she held the charm close, nodding slightly.
Lucavion rolled his shoulders, already turning away.
'Well, that should be enough entertainment for now.'
Lucavion turned on his heel, his cloak swaying slightly as he started walking forward. The quiet tap of Anne's hurried footsteps followed closely behind, her presence now more composed—though he could still sense the lingering nervous energy clinging to her.
Deciding to test her a little, he spoke without looking back.
"So, Anne. Let's say an unfamiliar noble enters this mansion. What's the first thing you're expected to do?"
The girl blinked but answered almost immediately. "Greet them politely, ensure their needs are met, and discreetly observe their status and temperament to adjust my approach accordingly."
Lucavion raised an eyebrow, glancing at her from the side. Not bad.
"Hmm. And if they start behaving… let's say, improperly?"
Anne hesitated for only a second before responding, her voice steadier this time. "If it's within acceptable bounds, I am to handle it with grace and professionalism. If it escalates, I am to alert a senior servant or, in extreme cases, one of the house knights."
Lucavion smirked slightly. "And here I thought you were completely inexperienced."
Anne's posture straightened, a small spark of determination flashing in her brown eyes. "I-I am inexperienced, sir, but I've studied. I don't want to be a burden to the other maids."
That made Lucavion pause for half a second.
'Ah. She really has put in the effort.'
She wasn't just some clueless girl thrown into service—she had worked for this, prepared herself as much as possible, wanting to stand on equal ground with her peers.
Interesting.
He let the silence stretch for a moment before exhaling lightly. "You're a diligent one, aren't you?"
Anne flushed slightly but nodded. "I try my best, sir."
Lucavion gave her a small hum of acknowledgment before stretching his arms with a slight yawn. "Well, then. As much as I'd love to continue testing your knowledge, I'll have to pass on the grand tour."
Anne blinked, clearly confused. "Sir?"
"I'm a bit tired," Lucavion admitted with a shrug. "Too much talking today."
Which was true.
The conversation with Duke Thaddeus had taken more out of him than he'd let on. Even someone like him—who thrived in verbal exchanges—could only maneuver so much before exhaustion crept in.
And, more importantly—
He had someone to catch up with, didn't he?
A slow smirk returned to his lips as he rolled his shoulders.
Yes. It had been a while since they last talked properly.
And knowing her, she probably had a lot to say.