As the days passed by in a blur, Viktor found himself trapped in a swirling storm of emotions. Nervousness, fear, and an unfamiliar sense of thrilling anticipation consumed him. The mere thought of escaping his father's watchful eye and embarking on a journey of self-discovery ignited a spark of excitement deep within him. How could he possibly turn down such a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity?
"Viktor, are you sure you'll be alright with just Emeline accompanying you? You'll be staying here for an indefinite amount of time," Charles asked, his eyes fixed intently on his younger brother. His arm, still cradled in a sling as it continued to heal, served as a constant reminder of the danger they had faced together.
"Yes, brother, I've assured you countless times—I'll be fine," Viktor replied with conviction. His gaze briefly drifted towards Emeline, the devoted maid who lay sleeping nearby. He couldn't help but feel admiration for her unwavering loyalty; she had stood by his side since the beginning and he knew she would continue to do so until the end of time.
*****
The trio made their way towards the grand manor, its towering silhouette looming against the darkening sky. The vibrant colors of sunset painted the clouds in shades of dusty grey and burnt orange. As they rode along the well-kept gravel road, the lush trees of the surrounding forest periodically obstructed their view of the imposing building.
Like the Kirchner family, the Tailons were known for their preference for seclusion and privacy. Virmil Tailon, head of the family and acting Duke of Grisha, held a position of great power and influence. His bond with the Kirchners was forged in Werner's youth and had lasted for centuries, cementing a deep connection between their families and the people of Grisha. Virmil himself had served as General of the Grishan army for thirty years before his firstborn child was born eleven years ago.
Finally, after several more minutes of riding, they arrived at the grand facade of the manor where four figures awaited them. A tall and commanding figure stood at the forefront, draped in a luxurious fur coat that shimmered in the fading light. He wore dark brown pants and a matching suit, topped off with a distinguished top hat. Beside him stood a woman whose striking beauty was accentuated by her ample curves. Her tan skin glowed in contrast to her elegant brown dress.
Underneath the woman's seated figure, a child with short hair and smooth features sat, giving off an aura of innocence. The child wore nondescript clothing that hid their shape and had a somewhat serious expression, though Viktor didn't pay much attention to them.
Standing a little ways away, isolated from the intimate group, was a man who appeared to be around the same age as Charles. He carried himself with perfect posture and was dressed in appropriate attire for his likely role as a guard for the family. The hilt of a sword by his side added to his status within the household.
As the carriage came to a stop and the horses settled down, smiles spread across the faces of those gathered, their hands waving in greeting towards the new arrivals. Moving closer to the Tailon family, Viktor noticed the widest smile on Charles' face as he practically ran towards the tallest and oldest man among them.
"Uncle Virmil!" Charles exclaimed happily, throwing himself into the open arms of the man. With shining brown eyes, the man hugged him back warmly, evident in the genuine smile on his face. After a few moments and some deep breaths, they reluctantly let go.
"Wow, you've grown so much! You're almost as tall as your father," the man remarked proudly. The woman beside him playfully tapped his shoulder as she caught up to them, a loving smile on her lips.
"Oh, honey, you're embarrassing him," she teased, her tone light and playful as she observed the deep blush that tinged Charles' cheeks.
Viktor couldn't help but silently chuckle at the sight. For once, his usually stoic brother looked almost childlike in his embarrassment. It was a rare sight to see Charles let his guard down and be vulnerable, and it made Viktor feel a mix of amusement and resentment. He couldn't help but envy the carefree expression on his brother's face – it was as if he didn't have a care in the world.
Emeline must have noticed the flicker of envy on Viktor's young features, for she reached out and affectionately ruffled his hair before introducing herself with grace and dignity.
"Mister, Madam, my name is Emeline Kirchner, maid to the honorable Prince Viktor Kirchner. It is a pleasure," she said with a graceful bow, her voice carrying a sense of pride in her position.
"Hmm, yes, we've heard of you. The maid who survived the attack against one of the Crows, and a phenomenal piece you are," the woman responded with admiration evident in her tone. Only Viktor caught the subtle implication behind her words.
A puzzled expression briefly crossed Viktor's face before he schooled it into one of composure as they prepared to enter the manor.
***
"Wow..." Viktor couldn't help but breathe out in awe as he took in the sheer grandeur of the home. It was like nothing he had ever seen before, even more lavish than the castle itself. Every corner and crevice seemed to be adorned with expensive trinkets and artifacts, giving off an air of opulence and extravagance.
Virmil let out a booming laugh as he slung his arm around Viktor's shoulder, crouching down to meet him at eye level.
"Impressive, isn't it? It's certainly a step up from your old man's place. He never did have much of a taste for the finer things, except for your mother, well not exactly your mother but rather Charles!" Virmil chuckled heartily, his voice echoing through the ornate halls.
"Did you know, your father and I once fought for that woman, way back when," he reminisced, his voice tinged with nostalgia as he recalled their adventurous past.
Viktor remained silent, his gaze fixed on the towering man who had enveloped him in a one-armed embrace, practically dragging him toward the imposing manor. The man's body was like a fortress, broad shoulders and powerful arms exuding strength and determination. His deep baritone voice echoed through the air, commanding attention and respect.
As they walked down the gravel path lined with perfectly manicured gardens, Viktor couldn't help but feel small and insignificant next to this formidable figure. But as he looked around at the lush greenery and majestic trees surrounding them, he couldn't deny the beauty of his surroundings.
He glanced up at the sky, taking in the soothing sounds of nature—birds chirping, leaves rustling in the wind. But a sudden chill snapped him back to reality, jolting him from his reverie. He turned his attention to the figure standing before him, still clad in vague attire, and noticed a small detail that sent a shiver down his spine.
The figure was trembling—not from the wind or the frosty bite of the cold air, but from...fear? Viktor's senses were on high alert as he tried to piece together what could possibly frighten someone of this stature.
His gaze flickered back to the Tailon family, the esteemed clan his father had known for so long, the family his eldest brother revered. Yet, in that moment, Viktor couldn't shake the feeling of unease gnawing at him. What secrets lay hidden within the walls of the Tailon Manor? What darkness lurked beneath their façade of wealth and prestige?
As they finally reached the grand entrance of the manor, Viktor couldn't help but wonder...what dark secrets would be revealed within the walls of this impressive estate?