For a moment, he debated leaving. But before he could retreat, Irien abruptly closed her book with a soft thud.
"Irish? Is that you?" she called, turning her head slightly.
Arlon froze, holding his breath. He shifted to leave, but she stood and began walking in his direction.
Step— Step—
"Is someone there?" Irien asked again, her small footsteps growing louder.
Irien rounded the corner and froze. Her wide, curious eyes locked onto his masked face, her steps faltering as though she hadn't expected to find him there. For a moment, the silence stretched between them, her small frame stiff under the weight of his gaze. The flicker of hesitation in her eyes was unmistakable—equal parts awe and fear.
"You're…" Her voice trailed off as recognition dawned on her face.
Arlon tilted his head slightly, waiting. Irien fidgeted, glancing down at her hands nervously.
....
The silence stretched unbearably, and Arlon found himself grasping for words. "Do you like reading?" he asked, his voice steady but tinged with a hesitation that betrayed his discomfort. The question felt clumsy, but it was all he could muster.
Irien's head shot up, her nervous expression softening. "Yes!" she replied eagerly, her voice filled with quiet enthusiasm.
"That's good," Arlon said, allowing a faint smile to touch his lips beneath the mask. "It's a useful habit to have."
Irien shuffled her feet, looking at him shyly. "Are you here alone?"
She shook her head. "No… Irish was with me, but she went back to our room to grab her things."
"I see," Arlon replied, his tone neutral. An awkward silence settled between them, and he struggled to find the right words.
Finally, he stepped back and nodded slightly. "I won't disturb you any further. Enjoy your reading."
Irien's eyes widened slightly, as though she wanted to say more. Instead, she gave a small nod and murmured," T-Thank you…," she said, her voice soft but uneven, as though still unsure how to bridge the gap.
Arlon paused briefly before turning and walking away, his cape trailing behind him. As he disappeared around the corner, Irien clutched her book to her chest, staring at the space where he had been.
He's not as cold as I thought, she mused, a faint warmth settling in her chest. For the first time in a long while, the weight of her nervousness seemed to ease.
Step— Step—
Meanwhile, Arlon moved deeper into the library, his thoughts a mix of relief and frustration. This isn't going to be easy, he thought, scanning the shelves for his book. But maybe it doesn't have to be impossible.
Emilia sat behind her polished mahogany desk, her expression thoughtful as Dimitri stood before her, delivering his report with calm precision. The faint scent of lavender lingered in the air, but the weight of their conversation pressed heavily in the room.
Dimitri's steady voice broke the silence. "The Celestial Clan has shown more interest in Arlon than anticipated. They've begun targeting him through their group, the Pry. Their motives are clear—they seek to manipulate him into their fold."
Emilia sighed softly, her fingers brushing against the desk. "I expected this. The Pry have always been drawn to power, and Arlon, as the next heir, is an obvious target." Her sky-blue eyes hardened. "But I won't let them use him. No matter what."
Dimitri paused briefly, measuring his words. "Arlon rejected their offer."
Emilia blinked, her surprise evident. "He rejected them?" she repeated, her tone laced with confusion.
"Yes," Dimitri confirmed, his expression neutral. "He chose a safer path."
Emilia leaned back in her chair, her mind racing. Arlon's decision was unexpected. She had always seen him as ambitious, someone who would seize any opportunity to gain power and secure his position as heir. "I assumed he'd accept," she admitted, her surprise evident. "Why didn't he?"
"Because he is more cautious than most assume," Dimitri replied. "He may appear driven by power, but he isn't impulsive. He is thinking carefully about his future—and the risks involved."
Emilia exhaled slowly, her lips pressing into a thin line. "Perhaps it's for the best," she said, though the concern in her voice remained. "If he'd acted rashly, he might have fallen into their trap. But still…The Pry won't give up. They'll keep pushing him, testing his resolve."
"Which is why I'll ensure their attempts are closely monitored," Dimitri agreed, inclining his head. "I'll continue to monitor his movements and report back to you immediately if anything arises."
"Good," Emilia said firmly, her tone leaving no room for doubt. "We can't afford to underestimate them."
The conversation shifted slightly as Dimitri asked, "And the twins, Your Grace? I trust they are doing well?"
Emilia's gaze softened, but her worry was evident. "They are in stable condition," she said, folding her hands on the desk. "But I remain concerned about their proximity to an awakener. Such connections tend to strain their lineage, draining their energy. It's a dangerous risk."
Dimitri's expression remained impassive, though a flicker of concern passed through his sharp green eyes. "I'll ensure they are kept at a safe distance from any potential threats," he assured her.
Emilia gave a faint nod. "Good. Their health is fragile enough as it is. The last thing I want is for them to suffer further."
Her voice softened as her thoughts turned to Arlon. "And Arlon…" She paused, the words momentarily catching in her throat. "He's still distant from the twins. But I've seen how they look at him. There's admiration there, even if he can't see it yet. Perhaps one day, he'll understand."
Dimitri inclined his head, his tone measured yet reassuring. "Lord Arlon has endured much. His struggle to connect is not without reason. But with your patience and care, as with the twins, he will find his way. Progress, Your Grace, takes time."
Emilia offered a small, grateful smile. "I hope you're right, Dimitri. I only wish their father could have been here to guide Arlon himself."
….
The room fell quiet, the mention of Ciel Throndsen bringing a heaviness neither could ignore. Dimitri's gaze softened as he said, "Ciel may not be here in body, but his presence lives on—in you and in the children. His legacy will not be forgotten."
Emilia's smile wavered, but there was a warmth in her eyes now. "Thank you, Dimitri," she said quietly. "I'll keep moving forward. For them."
Dimitri gave a small bow. "You've done far more than most could, Your Grace. They're fortunate to have you."
For a moment, the two shared a quiet understanding, the weight of loss balanced by determination. Finally, Dimitri straightened. "I'll leave you to your thoughts," he said, stepping toward the door. "I'll remain vigilant and keep you informed."
With a respectful nod, Dimitri exited the room, his footsteps echoing softly down the hall.
Left alone, Emilia turned her gaze toward the window. The sunlight streamed through the glass, casting soft patterns on the polished floor. Her thoughts drifted to the day of Ciel's death, a memory etched deeply into her heart.
"I'm sorry," Ciel had whispered on his deathbed. "I wish I could stay… to guide them. To guide you." Even now, the words cut deep. He had sacrificed everything for their family, leaving a void that even Arlon could not fill.
But despite the sorrow, she had never forgotten his strength or his love. You would be proud of them, Ciel, she thought, her gaze softening. Especially the twins. They've grown so much, even through their struggles.
Her thoughts turned to Arlon. He was still a mystery, his heart guarded and distant. But she refused to give up on him—or on any of her children. He'll find his way, she told herself firmly. I'll guide him as best I can. Just as you would have.
Emilia's expression grew resolute as she straightened in her chair. The burdens of the past weighed heavily on her shoulders, but she carried them with quiet strength. Her children were her future, and she would do everything in her power to protect and guide them.
He would have been proud of them. All of them.
With a final glance out the window, Emilia rose from her desk, her posture poised and determined. There was much to do, but she would face it all—just as she always had.
Elsewhere in the castle, Arlon walked the halls, lost in thought.
Arlon strode through the hallways, the weight of the book he had found in the library grounding him as his thoughts drifted back to his brief encounter with Irien. Her quiet curiosity lingered in his mind, mingling with a faint unease that he couldn't quite place.
His steps were slow and deliberate, his gaze flickering between the ornate surroundings and the path ahead.
As he turned a corner, the sound of hurried footsteps broke the stillness. Instinctively, he stiffened, preparing to step aside. Before he could react, a small figure collided with him, the force jarring but not enough to unbalance him.
His stance remained firm as he steadied himself, while the other person fell to the floor with a soft thud.
Thud—
Arlon glanced down to see a girl sitting on the polished floor, her arms sprawled among scattered books. She rubbed her forehead, stunned, before her wide blue eyes rose and locked onto his masked face.
For a moment, the hallway was silent. Irish froze, her expression shifting between surprise and what looked like a mix of awe and trepidation. Arlon cleared his throat to break the awkward tension and crouched to help her gather the fallen books.
"Are you all right?" he asked, his voice calm but distant.
Rustle rustle—
Irish blinked, snapping out of her daze. "Y-Yes," she stammered, her cheeks flushing as she fumbled to collect the books around her. "I'm so sorry! I wasn't looking where I was going."
"It's fine," Arlon replied, handing her a book. "But you should be more careful running in the halls. You might hurt yourself next time."
Irish lowered her gaze, clutching the books tightly to her chest. "I didn't mean to bump into you," she mumbled, her voice a mix of embarrassment and nervousness. "I was just in a hurry to—" She stopped abruptly, realizing she was rambling. Her fingers tightened on the books as she glanced down, clearly flustered.
"..."
Arlon studied her briefly, taking in her demeanor. Unlike Irien's quiet hesitation, Irish seemed livelier—yet just as unsure around him. Her energy was palpable, though it came with a certain clumsiness that contrasted with her sister's reserved presence.
"I was just coming back from my room," Irish added quickly, filling the silence. "Irien and I… we were in the library earlier, but I forgot a few things."
Arlon glanced at the pile of books she clutched. "That's a lot of books," Arlon observed evenly, his tone neutral as he glanced at the pile.
Irish offered a faint, nervous smile. "I like reading," she admitted softly. "Irien does too. But… we don't get to visit the library often."
"You should," Arlon said simply. "The library is a good place to learn—and to think."
Irish looked up at him, her expression softening as a flicker of relief replaced some of her nervousness. "Do you… read a lot too?" she asked cautiously.
"I do," Arlon replied. "Knowledge is a powerful tool."
Irish's grip on her books loosened slightly. "I didn't expect you to say that," she murmured, almost to herself, as though surprised by his response.
Arlon tilted his head slightly but chose not to press her further. Instead, he straightened and gestured for her to continue on her way. "You should return to the library. Irien may be waiting for you."
Irish hesitated briefly before bowing her head. "Thank you…," she said softly. Her voice carried a note of uncertainty but also a quiet sincerity. Without another word, she hurried past him, her steps quicker and lighter than before.
"..."
Arlon watched her retreating form for a moment before turning and resuming his walk down the hallway. Irish slowed her pace as she glanced back, watching him disappear around the corner.
Her heart fluttered slightly, still reeling from the unexpected collision. Yet, as she clutched her books to her chest, a strange sense of ease settled over her.
She couldn't explain it, but something told her that this wasn't the last time she would cross paths with her brother.