Eveloria completed her twentieth lap around the expansive training grounds of the Manor. Her chest heaved, and her knees trembled with exhaustion as she ran, feeling utterly drained of energy. Sweat drenched her clothes, causing them to cling uncomfortably to her body.
After she finished, Mikhail approached her and remarked, "You've been getting faster these days." Eveloria managed a weak smile in response, nodding as she found a seat on one of the nearby wooden benches. She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, trying to calm herself and catch her breath. Mikhail walked up to her, offering a waterskin and a white napkin. Grateful, she accepted the gesture and took a sip of water.
Standing beside her, Mikhail observed her labored breathing. It was evident that she wasn't feeling well. Her breaths came out shallow and irregular, as if struggling to force air into her lungs. Her flushed cheeks and harsh coughs between breaths worried him.
As he clenched his jaw, a thought crossed Mikhail's mind. 'Come to think of it, she looks thinner. That woman is starving her again.' Concern etched his face as he addressed Eveloria, saying, "You shouldn't push yourself too hard."
Eveloria nodded, attempting to reassure him. "I'm fine," she replied, her voice strained.
Just then, Ambrose and Briana approached from behind. Briana spoke up, her tone laced with fake concern. "You look utterly exhausted, sister Eve."
Mikhail cleared his throat, capturing the attention of the three of them. "Alright, you three are well aware that the highly anticipated coming of age ceremony is just around the corner," he began.
The coming of age ceremony held great significance in the noble families of Sabres kingdom. It was a grand event where the children of these esteemed families would gather together and present their sword techniques before the six heads of the esteemed Duke families and the royal family. This tradition had been established centuries ago, and failing to showcase one's sword skills during this event would result in being deemed useless, ridiculed, and ultimately disgraced.
The coming of age ceremony marked a new beginning for these young individuals. It was a chance for them to prove their worth and secure their place in society. This momentous occasion only occurred once a year, encompassing the entire kingdom.
Mikhail's gaze shifted to the three youngsters before him, his voice filled with determination. "That means, all of you must master the Ravenshield family's blade essence technique before the arrival of next month," he announced.
Briana, ever the cunning one, raised an eyebrow and inquired, "But Uncle Mikhail, what about sister Eve? She hasn't quite mastered swordwielding yet. How will she participate?"
Mikhail paused for a moment, contemplating the question, before responding, "Well, Briana, that is precisely my concern." He chose not to delve further into the matter, leaving his answer hanging in the air. This made Briana frown slightly.
Eveloria spoke up with unwavering confidence, "Don't worry, Uncle Mikhail. I may not have mastered it completely, but I will showcase whatever I have learned." Her smile radiated determination, despite her own uncertainties about her abilities.
Mikhail nodded slowly as he thought, 'It's not just about showcasing whatever, Eveloria.'
"Well, that's the end of today's training," he declared.
A while after Ambrose, Briana, and Eveloria had returned to the manor, Mikhail followed suit. As he made his way down the corridor, he couldn't help but feel a pang of bitterness at the thought of encountering Beatrice.
"Just need to locate my brother and make a swift exit. I'd rather not cross paths with her," he muttered to himself, the distaste evident in his voice. Fortunately, he had managed to avoid her thus far.
Proceeding down the corridor cautiously, his eyes scanned its length. Relief washed over him as he found it to be empty, yet he remained cautious about stepping forward.
Releasing a sigh of relief, he closed his eyes momentarily, only to feel a sudden grip on his shoulder from behind. Shocked, he let out a loud scream and leaped backward, fully prepared to confront the intruder.
To his surprise, he found himself face to face with Marlene. Instantly, a wave of relaxation washed over him. She appeared both worried and astonished.
Marlene appeared different from the last time he had seen her. Her once tightly bound black hair now cascaded over her shoulders in soft curls, lending her an air of gentle elegance. Clad in simple, slightly worn maid attire that suited her nicely, she held two large bags filled with groceries in her hands.
Mikhail couldn't help but notice how stunning she looked, even more so considering her usual tired and stressed demeanor. Despite the strain, she somehow managed to radiate beauty.
She glanced up and down the hallway, her eyes darting cautiously from side to side. Leaning in close, she whispered, "Are you okay?" The words escaped her lips in a hushed tone, barely audible.
He glanced around nervously before answering softly, "Yes... Why do you ask?" His voice matched her quietness, filled with a hint of anxiety.
Marlene, sensing his fear, glanced up and down the hallway once more.
"I can smell your fear," she murmured.
"You need to hide it better, it doesn't suit you."
With a swift motion, she handed him one of the bags from the pile she was carrying.
"Help me with this," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. Without waiting for a response, she walked away, disappearing into the corridor.
The bag in his hands wasn't heavy, but he knew it was filled with more than it appeared. Determined not to burden her any further, he caught up with her and offered to assist with the second bag.
Marlene looked at him with her piercing black orbs, her face etched with exhaustion. She managed a tired smile, appreciating his gesture.
Taking a deep breath, he returned the smile, his heart fluttering slightly as their eyes met. Side by side, they continued their slow stroll until they reached the kitchen.
Coming to a stop, Marlene gestured for him to set the two bags down on the table. He complied, placing them gently and silently.
She bowed gracefully and expressed her gratitude, saying, "Thank you for your assistance, Sir Mikhail."
Stepping away, he nodded in acknowledgment, flashing her one last warm smile before exiting the kitchen.
When the doors closed behind him, he took a deep breath, as if awakening from a haze. The overwhelming panic he had felt dissipated, replaced by a comforting sense of contentment. Leaning against the door, he couldn't help but chuckle softly to himself.
After a brief moment, he straightened up and continued down the corridor towards Lucian's study. As he reached the door, he poised himself to knock but hesitated upon hearing raised voices from within. Curiosity piqued, he pressed his ear against the door, hoping to decipher the source.
Two distinct voices echoed through the room, one belonging to Lucian, which he recognized instantly, and the other to Beatrice. Their conversation seemed intense, filled with exasperation and disagreement.
"Are you truly going to allow her to have free rein?" Beatrice's voice resounded, laced with frustration. Lucian let out a weary sigh, reclining in his chair. It was evident that Beatrice's words had irked him.
"If I pressure her, she will refuse to marry him. We must allow Eveloria the freedom to make her own choices. Besides, she doesn't have many options," Lucian responded, his tone tinged with resignation.
Beatrice scoffed derisively, her words dripping with disdain. "Since when have you begun caring about Eveloria's wishes?"
Her words struck with a harsh venom, cutting through the air and leaving an uncomfortable silence in their wake.
"Eveloria shall wed Lord Gavriel and that's it." Beatrice declared.
Mikhail's anger surged within him, threatening to consume his rationality. His hand instinctively reached for the door handle, ready to unleash his fury on the unsuspecting scene inside. However, in a moment of self-restraint, he halted his impulsive actions. While he understood there was little he could do about the discussion taking place, the words uttered by Beatrice still stung deeply.
Lucian's insensitivity infuriated Mikhail, and he couldn't fathom how he could allow Beatrice to speak so callously. Why wouldn't he intervene to prevent Eveloria from marrying Lord Gavriel? Shouldn't she have the freedom to choose a partner she genuinely liked? After all, she was a human with her own desires and preferences.
"Alright then, I shall relay the news to Lord Gavriel. The marriage shall take place after the month of the coming-of-age ceremony," Lucian conceded, his tone fraught with exasperation.
A mirthful smile crept across Beatrice's face as she uttered a simple "good."
Mikhail, seething with anger, could no longer contain his fury. His words forcefully slipped through clenched teeth as he flung open the door. His fists tightly clenched at his sides, the tremors of his anger nearly visible.
"You're accepting the marriage proposal without her knowledge?!" Mikhail spat, his voice dripping with disdain.
"I cannot believe you would stoop so low! Your duty should be to protect Eveloria's feelings, not subject her to an arrangement of your choosing! She deserves better than this, Lucian!" he bellowed, his fury echoing through the room.
Lucian and Beatrice stared at him, dumbfounded by Mikhail's sudden outburst. After a moment of silence, Lucian regained his composure and rose to face his brother, his brows creased in frustration.
"This is none of your business, Mikhail," he stated calmly, but there was a hint of irritation in his voice.
Mikhail growled in response, his anger palpable.
"Of course it is my business! You have no right to act as if you can make decisions for her when you've never cared about Eveloria!" He pointed an accusing finger at Lucian.
Beatrice opened her mouth to interject, but Lucian raised his hand, signaling her to remain silent. The room was filled with tension as the brothers locked eyes, their emotions boiling beneath the surface.
"Did you forget your place in this family? You're nothing but an illegitimate child," Lucian snapped in anger, his voice laced with bitterness.