The moment Dimitri spotted Arlon, he broke into a sprint, his voice laden with relief and reprimand.
"My Lord!". Dimitri's voice boomed across the clearing as he closed the distance with long, purposeful strides.
"Do you have any idea what you've put me through!?" His words, sharp with both relief and reprimand, spilled out as he grasped Arlon by the shoulders.
"I thought the worst—I thought someone had taken you!"
Dimitri Miller, his fiercely loyal butler, known for his relentless dedication and, at times, overwhelming concern. As Dimitri's voice wavered, his eyes nearly watering, he shook Arlon slightly, almost demanding reassurance that his lord wouldn't wander off without notifying him ever again.
"..."
Arlon was momentarily stunned, struggling to respond as Dimitri's hold on him tightened. He couldn't help but feel a mix of guilt and embarrassment, glancing around to see the villagers and the trio watching them in bewilderment.
"..."
Lawrence's eyebrows rose in surprise, while Alice and Anthony exchanged curious looks. The entire village was now silent, taken aback by the sight of the noble-looking servant scolding a masked traveller man.
Ace, however, seemed rather entertained, letting out a low chuckle. "So…this is your keeper, huh?" he teased, his red eyes glinting with amusement as he watched Dimitri's stern reprimand.
Realizing he had to say something to defuse the situation, Arlon placed a hand on Dimitri's shoulder, speaking with as much composure as he could muster. "Dimitri… I didn't mean to worry you. I just—things got a bit out of hand here, that's all."
Dimitri's expression softened, though he still looked deeply troubled. "Out of hand? My lord, you have no idea the lengths I went to find you. I'll not let this happen again. I will accompany you at all times if I must!"
"..."
Ace snickered, his voice barely a murmur in Arlon's ear. "You? A nobleman? Doesn't seem the type to me," he teased, flicking his tail in amusement. "I mean, if it weren't for him calling you 'my lord,' I'd think you were just… you know, some runaway."
"..."
Arlon shot Ace a brief, exasperated look before focusing on calming Dimitri down. "Dimitri, listen," he said, his tone firm but reassuring.
"I had a reason for going off. I followed a group of Pry members—I had to find out what they were up to." He gestured to the surrounding village, still bearing scars from the recent attack.
"When I saw they were targeting this place, I couldn't turn back."
The tension in Dimitri's shoulders eased as he took in the scene, his eyes softening. For a brief moment, he seemed almost proud.
"You're…starting to sound like your father, my lord," Dimitri murmured, a note of approval in his voice,But it didn't escape from Arlon's view.
Sigh—
With a sigh he turned to the gathered villagers and his companions, Arlon took a deep breath, preparing to introduce himself with the weight of his family name.With a deliberate motion, he reached up and pulled back the hood of his robe. The fabric fell away, revealing his face to the crowd.
"I am Arlon Throndsen," he declared, his voice carrying the weight of his lineage. Pulling back his hood, he revealed his face to the gathered crowd, his eyes steady as they met theirs.
"Firstborn son of Duke Ciel Throndsen. It is my duty, as a member of the House of Throndsen, to serve and protect those in need. Whatever hardships you face now, know that you will not face them alone."
The words left his mouth confidently, though he could feel a slight flush of embarrassment creeping into his cheeks. It felt almost surreal to speak with such formality and weight, but the reactions around him reminded him it was the right choice.
It still feels overwhelming, even though this isn't my first time speaking in public.
Dimitri, having collected himself, stood a little straighter as Arlon issued his next orders. "Dimitri, I need you to lead the villagers to the villa," he said firmly. "They'll need a place to stay while we work to rebuild what's been lost here."
Dimitri's eyes widened briefly, but he nodded, understanding. "Yes, my lord," he replied, his voice filled with newfound respect. Without another question, he began organizing the villagers, guiding them with the natural authority he had honed over years of service.
As the villagers followed Dimitri's lead, Arlon let out a quiet sigh of relief. Ace, however, wasn't about to let him off the hook just yet.
"Look at you," he purred, eyes glinting with mischief. "Lord of the land, protector of the people. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were getting the hang of this."
Arlon merely rolled his eyes, a small smile tugging at his lips.
———
By noon, the villa had settled into a calm, almost peaceful atmosphere. After all the chaos, the serene quiet was a welcome relief.
Arlon stood by the gates of the villa, addressing the guards who had gathered before him. His commanding yet calm voice carried authority as he gave clear instructions.
"Patrol the area thoroughly. Ensure the villa and its surroundings are secure," Arlon said. "And assist the villagers in settling into the villa grounds. Their recovery is a priority."
The guards nodded in unison and dispersed to carry out their duties. As Arlon turned back toward the villa, he noticed Alice and Anthony hesitantly approaching.
The siblings exchanged uncertain glances, their steps slow and cautious. It was clear they were unsure how to address him now that they had learned of his true identity.
Stopping a few steps away, Alice spoke first, her tone overly polite. "Lord Throndsen... we came to—"
"Arlon is fine," he interrupted gently, a small smile playing on his lips. He gestured for them to relax. "There's no need to act differently. Approach me as you did before. I appreciate your help with the villagers."
"..."
"..."
Alice and Anthony both blinked in surprise but nodded, their unease fading slightly. After exchanging a quick glance, Anthony added, "We wanted to assist further. Perhaps by checking on the villagers and their conditions."
Arlon's smile grew a fraction warmer. "That would be helpful. Thank you. Your support means a lot."
The siblings bowed their heads slightly, visibly relieved, and left to join the other helpers. Watching them walk away, Arlon turned to Dimitri, who was standing nearby.
"Dimitri," he called, his tone shifting back to one of authority. "Have the maids and servants provide the villagers with anything they need. Prioritize food, clothing, and medical supplies."
"As you wish, my lord," Dimitri replied with a slight bow before departing to carry out the orders.
Satisfied, Arlon made his way inside the villa.
Arlon stepped through the grand entrance of the villa, the sound of his boots echoing faintly against the polished marble floor. He paused briefly, letting his gaze sweep over the familiar interior—the high ceilings, intricate carvings on the columns, and the soft glow of the afternoon light filtering through stained-glass windows.
It was a place that spoke of prestige, though its emptiness made it feel hollow.
I hope the villagers don't get overwhelmed by this place.
Ace, perched comfortably on Arlon's shoulder, stretched his tiny legs and yawned. "This place is massive," the black cat commented, his red eyes gleaming with curiosity. "I think I'll go explore for a bit."
Arlon glanced at him, one brow raised. "Explore?" he asked, his tone calm yet carrying a hint of warning. "Fine, but don't get lost. And if you're going to wander off, remember—my room is at the end of the corridor on the second floor. Go there when you're done."
Ace tilted his head, his tail flicking playfully. "What do you take me for, I never get lost. I'm an excellent navigator."
Arlon smirked faintly but didn't reply, simply giving a small nod before continuing deeper into the villa. Ace leapt gracefully from Arlon's shoulder to the floor, landing silently.
The cat stretched again, his sleek black fur shimmering in the soft light, and then padded off down the corridor.
"And don't break anything!" Arlon called over his shoulder. Ace paused mid-step, turning to glance back with a sly flick of his tail.
"Me? Break something? Perish the thought," he said smoothly, though the mischievous glint in his crimson eyes told a different story.
Arlon sighed softly, shaking his head. "He's becoming more like a real cat now," he muttered under his breath, though there was a trace of amusement in his tone.
He adjusted the cuffs of his coat and moved further into the villa, his mind already shifting to the tasks at hand. As much as he trusted Ace to keep himself entertained, Arlon couldn't shake the feeling that trouble tended to follow the little feline wherever he went.
Let's just hope that he behaves.
As he walked through the hallway,he came across Lawrence struggling to carry several bags and boxes at once. Without hesitation, Arlon approached.
"Lawrence," he called out, causing the young man to flinch slightly. "Do you need help with that?"
Lawrence glanced at him, his eyes widening with panic. His grip on the items tightened as he shook his head quickly. "Ah, no, I can handle it. Thank you."
Arlon tilted his head, not noticing Lawrence's unease. "If you're sure. But don't hesitate to ask if you need assistance."
Before Lawrence could respond further, a maid approached, her expression flustered. "My lord, we have a problem," she said. "There aren't enough rooms for all the villagers to stay in."
Arlon turned to her immediately, his brows furrowing. "Where is Dimitri? He should be coordinating this."
"He's in the lobby, my lord," the maid replied.
Nodding, Arlon glanced back at Lawrence. "We'll speak later," he said, his tone calm but firm. Lawrence nodded silently, watching as Arlon followed the maid down the hallway.
As Arlon disappeared around the corner, Lawrence stood motionless for a moment, his eyes fixed on the space where Arlon had disappeared. A flicker of self-doubt crossed his features before he squared his shoulders, clutching the boxes tighter.
"I'll prove myself," he murmured, the resolve in his voice quiet but unshakable
Then, with renewed determination, he continued on his way.
In the lobby, Dimitri stood at attention as Arlon approached. The maids hovered nearby, awaiting instructions. Without hesitation, Arlon began issuing orders.
"Dimitri," he said, his voice firm but even. "Open the unused rooms on the east wing and clear out any unnecessary furniture. Move the excess to the basement for storage."
Dimitri inclined his head. "As you wish, my lord."
"These rooms have been left to gather dust for far too long," Arlon continued. "The villa holds no valuables worth protecting in them. It's better to use the space for the villagers than to let it go to waste."
"As you command," Dimitri replied without hesitation, immediately turning to the maids. "Prepare the cleaning supplies and begin clearing the rooms. I'll oversee the arrangements myself."
The maids curtsied and hurried off to follow his instructions. Dimitri, with his usual efficiency, led the effort, ensuring everything proceeded smoothly. Arlon lingered for a moment, watching as the staff began their work before he turned on his heel and left the lobby.
Arlon walked toward his room, intending to rest, but his feet carried him elsewhere. Instead of stopping at his chambers, he found himself heading toward the study.
Step— Step—
The room was quiet and dimly lit, the faint scent of old parchment filling the air. Arlon's gaze drifted to the corner where the hidden compartment lay. His steps slowed as he approached, a faint sense of anticipation rising within him.
Click—
The room was quiet—too quiet. As Arlon stepped inside, his sharp eyes immediately landed on the desk where the book had been. His pulse quickened. The space was empty.
He approached slowly, his boots making faint echoes on the cold stone floor. The faint layer of dust around the desk had been disturbed, streaked with the faint impression of fingers.
His jaw tightened. Someone had been here.
He crouched to inspect the lower shelves, his fingers brushing over the edges of the books. None of them matched the one he was searching for. Rising to his full height, Arlon's mind raced.
The symbols in that book could've held the answers he needed—answers that, in the wrong hands, might spell disaster.
His fists clenched. "Whoever took it... will regret it."