Annabelle's heart pounded in her chest as the weight of her grandfather's words sank in.
'Thrown away?'
She kept her gaze locked on Liam, this stranger who wore her family's ring and commanded magic that nearly rivaled even her own S-Rank. His calm demeanor only added to her unease. He stood there, tall and unbothered, as if this reunion was nothing more than a formality.
Liam met her eyes without flinching, his expression unreadable—a mixture of polite detachment and faint amusement. She hated how composed he looked, as if he had no need to prove himself to anyone. It sent a ripple of annoyance through her.
"So, you're the one that stupid bitch discarded."
Annabelle said coolly, crossing her arms. Her sharp green eyes scanned him from head to toe, looking for any sign of weakness.
"It's curious to see you here with a family ring. How in the world did you come by it?"
Liam gave her the faintest smirk, the kind that suggested he was used to such jabs.
"Curious indeed~"
He replied smoothly, his voice soft but edged like a razor.
"Your cousin Jean-Philippe ensured I received it. Perhaps he saw something in me."
Annabelle's lips thinned.
'Jean-Philippe had a hand in this?'
That only made things worse—her cousin rarely involved himself in family matters unless it was something very important.
Charles, who had been watching the exchange with thinly veiled amusement, stepped forward, planting his cane firmly against the stone floor with a sharp tap.
"Enough of this childish nonsense, Annabelle."
He said with a warning in his tone.
"The boy's family magic speaks for itself. You felt it just now—don't pretend otherwise."
Annabelle bit her tongue, unable to deny the truth. That magic… It had wrapped around her like an embrace from an ancient beast, and she'd liked it. It was intoxicating—something primal, like the old magic the Bourbon family only dared use in desperate moments. But that didn't mean she had to like him.
"Raw power isn't everything, Grandfather."
She muttered.
"He may still pose a threat to the family."
Liam chuckled softly at her comment, and the sound was maddeningly calm.
"I don't need your approval, Auntie~"
He said, his icy eyes flashing with amusement.
"But it's good to know where we stand."
"Careful."
Annabelle said, her voice low, sharp.
"You may be wearing the ring, but that doesn't mean you'll keep it."
Liam leaned closer, just slightly, as if sharing a secret.
"Then you should try and take it~"
He whispered, a dangerous glint in his eye.
Before Annabelle could retort, Charles clapped his hands together, cutting through the tension.
"Enough posturing. There will be plenty of time for pettiness later."
He said with a grin.
"Right now, we eat. There's work yet to be done this afternoon."
Annabelle shot Liam a glare, but he only gave her a subtle, infuriating smile in return.
"Come along, Bell."
Charles said as he turned toward the stairs.
"You'll have plenty of opportunities to test him later, I'm sure. For now, let's not let your grandmother's cooking go cold."
With a final, withering glance at Liam, Annabelle followed her grandfather up the stairs. As they ascended, she heard Liam's measured footsteps behind them, steady and unbothered, as if he already belonged there.
And that, more than anything, irritated her.
Liam glanced toward his aunt Annabelle, whose disapproving stare was softened just slightly by the amusement in her eyes. She was clearly sizing him up, looking for some fault to latch onto, but he could see a glimmer of curiosity beneath her scowl.
Determined not to disappoint his grandmother—and to perhaps earn a bit of respect—he took a step forward, extending a hand, and politely greeted her again.
"Aunt Annabelle."
He said with a slight bow.
"It's an honor to finally meet you."
Annabelle arched an eyebrow yet offered her hand in response. To her astonishment, Liam raised it delicately and bestowed a tender kiss between her ring and middle finger. His touch was cautious and modest—sufficiently respectful to avoid offense, yet insightful enough to acknowledge the underlying power dynamics.
Annabelle was clearly taken with Liam's subtle approach, feeling her resistance to him soften, warming to him more than anticipated. It was rare for her to encounter someone who possessed both the confidence and the shrewdness to navigate the complexities of the Bourbons' world, particularly someone of his youth.
"Just call me Aunty Bell, sweetheart."
She said, reaching out to gently run her hand across his cheek. Her approval glinted in her eyes, and she noted how he barely flinched at the affectionate gesture.
"Come along now, let's see what Grandma Colette has prepared for us."
She looped her arm through his and allowed him to escort her to the dining hall, a playful smile spreading across her face as she caught her grandfather's approving nod from across the room.
As they neared the dining hall, she leaned in and whispered.
"And don't worry about Grandfather. He's a tough one, but a little honey goes a long way with him."
Liam gave her a charming, if weary, smile.
"Noted, Auntie."
When they entered, Charles was already seated at the head of the table, whiskey glass in hand, watching them with a gaze that was as proud as it was analytical. As they took their seats, Annabelle noted with pleasure how Liam settled in without a hint of nerves, even offering to pour her wine—a gesture that did not go unnoticed by the elder Bourbons.
"So, young man..."
Charles began, his voice thick with authority.
"Are you ready to handle what it means to truly be a Bourbon? There's more to it than magic and heritage, you know."
Liam set down the wine bottle, meeting his grandfather's gaze squarely.
"Yes, Grandfather. I've been preparing my whole life, whether I knew it or not. And now, being here, I intend to learn whatever it takes to do justice to our name."
A flicker of approval crossed Charles's face, though he quickly masked it.
"Good. The Bourbons are powerful, not because of what we possess, but because of what we create—power from loyalty, alliances, and resolve."
Colette shared a look with her husband, her eyes warm.
"The boy's got all that, Charles."
She said confidently.
"Just wait. We may have finally found someone worthy of bearing the Bourbon legacy forward."
With that, the family settled into their meal, each secretly relishing the idea that perhaps, just perhaps, a new era was dawning in the ancient house of Bourbon, with Liam as its unexpected heir.
"Do his parents know he's here?"
Annabelle asked her grandfather.
"It's hard to imagine those two idiots would be all that happy about it."
Charles gave a low chuckle, his eyes glinting with a trace of mischief.
"Not a clue."
He replied, swirling his glass of whiskey with a casual air.
"I imagine they'd be less than thrilled, but I saw no reason to enlighten them, and as I understand it, young Liam here didn't exactly leave a forwarding address."
Annabelle arched an eyebrow, curiosity piqued.
"Is that so?"
She turned to Liam.
"Didn't have time to drop by and introduce yourself?"
Liam gave her a faint, wry smile as he poured wine into her glass with a grace that belied his age.
"There wasn't time."
He replied smoothly.
"My adopted family… well, they were murdered. I was left with a choice to either hunt down those responsible for the insult to me, or waste my time with introductions to two people who discarded me at birth. So I chose the former."
He shrugged, a glint of steel flickering beneath his polite demeanor.
"And besides, from what I've learned of my parents, a reunion likely would have changed little."
Colette studied her grandson, taken aback by his bluntness. But there was something about his words—the mix of anger, bitterness, and determination—that felt oddly familiar to her husband. She exchanged a glance with Charles, who nodded approvingly.
"You sound more like a Bourbon with every word."
She said with a half-smile, unable to hide her intrigue.
"Our family has always dealt in… practicalities. But how, exactly, did you track your targets?"
Liam paused, choosing his words carefully.
"It came down to my Origin, grandmother."
He explained, setting down the wine and folding his hands.
"It's called Contract. It allows me to forge deals that, once agreed upon, are bound by magic. Both parties are compelled to fulfill their end of the bargain, or face punishment. It's how I've gathered information, resources, even allies, in my search."
The table was silent for a moment as both Annabelle and his grandparents absorbed his words. Charles gave a low, approving hum.
"And once a contract is made?"
Asked Annabelle.
"The connection lasts until both parties fulfill the terms, or until all sides agree to dissolve it."
Liam replied, his tone calm, his expression unreadable. He sipped his own wine without flinching, and Annabelle's approving gaze softened a bit more.
"Well."
She said, giving him an amused glance.
"Perhaps you're not as new to our ways as I thought, darling."
He said as he sipped his wine, Annabelle gave an approving nod, observing that he didn't react to the taste, despite his youth. Liam had claimed that his Contract ability was his Origin, to keep his actual Origin Index Record concealed, and wanted an excuse for how he gets certain things from his Merchant System Shop.