Blaze crouched low on the floor of the study, his blond curls bobbing as he leaned closer to Aiden, who sat cross-legged beside him.
The two boys were tucked neatly behind a towering bookshelf, hidden from the prying eyes of any passing staff. The polished wooden floor was cold beneath them, but Blaze didn't care. His blue eyes gleamed with excitement as he clutched his knees to his chest.
"Brother," he whispered, his voice tinged with reverence. "You met the Jägers. The actual Jägers. That's… that's insane! Tell me everything. What was Evander like? Did he have that air of command like Dad does? And Kacela- what about her? Was she as brilliant as people say?"
Aiden leaned back against the bookshelf with a tired sigh, running a hand through his red hair. "Blaze, for the last time, they're not as grand as you think. Evander Jäger is just an old man who likes to talk in circles, and Kacela-"
Blaze gasped dramatically, clutching his chest as though Aiden had just declared the sun didn't shine in the sky.
"Not as exciting? Brother, are you completely mad? They're the best Hunters in the world! Dad's always said Evander Jäger is a master tactician. And Kacela…" His eyes lit up as though he were talking about royalty. "She's practically our age and already a legend! Was she carrying a weapon? Oh, I bet she had something incredible, like a blade, sleek and dangerous, or maybe one of those revolvers they say the Jägers keep hidden. Tell me she did!"
"She wasn't carrying a bloody sword, Blaze. She's not running around like some knight out of a fairy tale."
"Well, she could've been!" Blaze countered, standing up to pace the room. His hands waved about as he spoke, his blond curls bouncing with every emphatic nod.
"And Evander! What was he like? Did he speak in that deep, commanding voice Dad always does when he's talking about the Association? I bet he did. He's probably terrifying!"
"Terrifying is one word for it," Aiden muttered, his lips twisting into a half-smile.
He could still hear Evander's polished tone, every word dripping with condescension.
Blaze stopped pacing and turned to Aiden, his face alight with awe. "And Kacela? Was she as brilliant as they say? I mean, imagine being trained by Evander Jäger himself! She's got to be, hasn't she?"
Aiden hesitated, the memory of Kacela's sharp gaze and even sharper tongue flickering through his mind. "She's… something," he said carefully.
Blaze leaned forward, practically begging. "Oh, come on, brother! You've got to tell me more! What was she like?"
"Pushy," Aiden replied flatly. "And full of herself."
Blaze's jaw dropped, scandalized. "Brother, how could you say such a thing? She's a Jäger! They're practically legends!"
"Blaze," Aiden began, sitting up straighter and fixing his brother with a serious look, "the Jägers are not legends. They're people. And if you spent five minutes with them, you'd see they're not nearly as perfect as everyone makes them out to be."
Blaze frowned, his enthusiasm dimming for the first time. "But they're still brilliant, aren't they? I mean, Evander's a genius. And Kacela-"
"Kacela's clever," Aiden admitted begrudgingly. "But clever doesn't always mean nice. She's sharp, all right; sharp enough to cut you if you're not careful."
Blaze tilted his head, his expression thoughtful. "So… they're not what they seem?"
Aiden sighed and leaned back in his chair. "No one ever is, Blaze. Not the Jägers, not anyone."
Blaze was quiet for a moment, then his grin returned, just as bright as before. "Well, I still think they're smashing. Especially Kacela. Clever and sharp, just like a proper Jäger should be! Honestly, brother, I don't know how you kept so calm around them. I'd have been shaking in my boots!"
Aiden chuckled softly, shaking his head. "You'd have done fine, Blaze. Probably would've made a better impression than I did, anyway."
Blaze beamed at the compliment, scooting closer to Aiden as though sharing a secret. "Do you think I'll ever meet them, brother? Do you think Kacela will think I'm clever, too?"
Aiden ruffled Blaze's hair affectionately, smirking when Blaze swatted his hand away. "If you ever meet her, just be yourself. That'll be enough to impress anyone."
"Even Kacela Jäger?" Blaze asked, his voice filled with hope.
Aiden nodded, his smirk softening into a genuine smile. "Even Kacela Jäger."
Blaze let out a quiet cheer, his excitement bubbling over once more. "I can't wait, brother. Just imagine! Me, Blaze Chase, chatting with Kacela Jäger. Oh, it'll be brilliant!"
"God help us all," Aiden muttered under his breath, though he couldn't help the small smile tugging at his lips as Blaze began chattering again about the Jägers' supposed glory.
For all his enthusiasm, Blaze still had so much to learn about the world. But for now, Aiden let him dream, finding some solace in his brother's unshakable optimism.
As they were chatting away their morning, a sharp, deliberate knock suddenly echoed through the heavy oak door of the study.
Without waiting for an invitation, Ettore stepped inside, his movements composed, his gaze immediately landing on the two young masters of the house.
The sight that greeted him was, to put it mildly, unconventional.
Aiden and Blaze, the young masters of the Chase Family, were seated on the polished wooden floor, legs crossed like schoolchildren, engaged in an animated discussion. No books, no papers, no chessboards, just the two of them, talking in low, urgent tones.
At Ettore's raised eyebrow, they scrambled to their feet with as much dignity as they could muster.
"Masters Aiden and Blaze," Ettore began, his voice calm yet carrying the unmistakable weight of reprimand, "while I am not privy to every rule of Miss Agnes's curriculum, I am quite certain that sitting on the floor is not considered an exemplary posture for gentlemen of your standing."
Blaze brushed off his trousers, his ears reddening. "We weren't sitting sitting," he muttered. "We were... strategizing."
"Indeed," Aiden chimed in, straightening his waistcoat. "A most productive use of time. But we're on our feet now, so no harm done."
"I was under the impression that the furniture in this house was both plentiful and adequate."
The two did not respond.
Ettore's eyes flicked briefly to the empty floor where they had been sitting, and he raised an eyebrow ever so slightly.
"Sirs," he began, his tone calm but tinged with a faint note of disapproval, "while I am certain the floor provides a unique perspective on matters, might I remind you that chairs exist for a reason? Miss Agnes would hardly approve of gentlemen of your standing behaving as though you were in a field picnic."
Blaze grumbled softly, muttering, "Of course she wouldn't."
Ettore chose to ignore the comment, continuing, "Speaking of Miss Agnes, she has requested your presence in the dining room in precisely ten minutes. Today's lesson concerns table manners. I trust you will find it enlightening."
"Table manners," Aiden echoed dryly, tilting his head toward his younger brother. "You'll need the practice, Blaze. Perhaps today you'll learn not to slurp your soup like a peasant."
"And perhaps you'll learn not to hold your fork like you're wielding a weapon. It's a miracle Agnes hasn't fainted at the sight of it yet. Speaking of, she'd probably do when she hears about what happened this morning."
Aiden groaned, though he couldn't suppress a smirk. "Oh, do be quiet, Blaze. It was one fork."
"One fork," Blaze repeated, snorting. "Dropped so dramatically, the entire staff turned to look. "
Ettore cleared his throat just enough to remind them of his presence. "Miss Agnes has also asked me to stress the importance of punctuality. She, as ever, believes it to be the hallmark of a gentleman."
Blaze groaned once again. "Punctuality, civility, propriety—she never tires of those blasted words. Does she not know we're modern?"
"Blaze, for heaven's sake," Aiden snickered, already walking out the study. "It's one hour. Surely you can endure a lecture on the proper angle of a soup spoon without resorting to melodrama."
"Endure is the perfect word, brother," Blaze muttered, trudging behind his older brother. "Why must we learn all this nonsense, anyway? No one actually cares how you fold your napkin."