The motion was almost unnoticeable, a testant to the quality of craftsmanship in the carriage, an effort I had personally overseen. Inside, there was no jarring, no shaking. Just the gentle hum of movent that allowed for peaceful thought.
Alfred, knowing
far too well, didn't ask for instructions. Instead, he moved silently to the compartnt where we kept the wine, retrieving a bottle and two glasses. He poured the deep crimson liquid into a finely carved goblet, the color of the wine glistening under the soft glow of the carriage lamps.
Stay tuned to empire
The vineyard producing this wine was another one of my projects—an endeavor I began out of necessity rather than passion. The land and seeds had been cultivated with my skill, Chrysius' Touch, a magic that allowed
to draw out the latent potential of things in exchange for my mana.
The result was unique—wines with subtle notes of honey and spice, so with the aftertaste of the mountain herbs that grew naturally in the surrounding fields. Each bottle from the vineyard had a distinct character, a variety born from careful manipulation of nature's gifts.
I took the cup Alfred offered, swirling the liquid gently before raising it to my nose. The aroma was rich and complex, layers of fruit and earth blending into sothing that hinted at a hidden potency. It wasn't just a product of quality; it was a ans to an end. The profits from this vineyard, and the several others under my control, would go directly into funding the defenses of the earldom.
War was coming. And it wasn't going to be clean.
I took a sip, letting the wine linger on my tongue. Alfred sat across from , hands folded neatly in his lap, his expression neutral, though I could feel the weight of his gaze. After a mont, he broke the silence.
"Is this the right course of action, my lord?" he asked, his voice soft, but there was sothing pointed in his words. He knew I had already considered every angle, weighed every possibility. But he asked anyway, as if giving
one last chance to rethink it.
"Perhaps it is," I replied, my voice colder than I intended. My eyes drifted to the window, staring out at the clouds gathering in the sky. "Perhaps it's the only one."
Alfred remained quiet for a mont, his hands still resting calmly in his lap. Then he spoke again, this ti more carefully. "Did you know about the orc invasion long before it was brought to light?"
His question hung in the air like the faint scent of rain before a storm. I didn't answer imdiately. Instead, I kept my gaze on the passing landscape, watching as the horizon slowly darkened with the approaching rain. The silence stretched between us, but I could feel his eyes on , studying
the way he had done for years.
"I suspected," I said finally, the words carefully chosen. There was no need for further elaboration. Alfred already understood more than most would in his position. He wasn't just a butler—he was soone who had been with
through all of this. There were things I didn't need to say aloud for him to grasp.
He let out a quiet sigh, and when I turned my gaze back to him, I saw a look on his face I hadn't seen in so ti. Sadness. It was subtle, but it was there. His eyes softened, his lips pulling into a slight frown that reminded
of a grandfather watching his grandson make difficult decisions. It was a look I had seen only a few tis in my life, and it always unsettled .
"You need to et your family, at least once again, my lord," he said softly, his tone as gentle as ever.
I t his gaze, my eyes narrowing slightly. There was no anger in , only... hesitation. But I said nothing, allowing him to continue.
"The twins," he went on, his voice quiet but steady. "Lady Clara and Lady Tiara... They asked for your presence during the ti you left to deal with the goblin uprising. They were waiting for you, my lord. Hoping, even. It's been so long since they've seen you.
Too long."
The nas of my sisters sent a familiar chill through , and I couldn't quite et Alfred's eyes. Instead, I stared down at the wine in my hand, swirling it slowly, watching the way the liquid caught the dim light.
"I hope," Alfred continued, his tone heavy with emotion, "that you might find it in your heart to et with them. At least once, before things beco more complicated."
The carriage fell silent again, except for the quiet patter of rain as the first drops began to fall. I glanced outside, watching as the drizzle turned into a steady shower. It was as if the weather reflected the mood inside the carriage—a growing weight that pressed against my chest, though I couldn't pinpoint why.
I turned back to Alfred, and there it was. That look again. The sad, almost resigned smile on his lips. His loyalty had always been unshakable, but there was sothing different in him now—sothing that carried a weight I didn't want to acknowledge.
"I've thought about it," I said after a long mont, my voice quieter than usual. "But I wonder... If I et them again, will I lose sothing?"
Alfred's brow furrowed slightly, his expression thoughtful but patient. "What is it you fear losing, my lord?"
I didn't answer him directly, because the truth was... I didn't know. The rain outside intensified, the drops tapping rhythmically against the glass, the gray clouds heavy with the storm.
"I think," I murmured, my thoughts unraveling in ways I wasn't used to, "if I et them, I might find sothing I've spent a long ti avoiding."
The mories were there—just below the surface, waiting for
to confront them. Draven's mories, not mine. Yet sohow, they felt as though they belonged to , as if this world had woven them into my being when I arrived. There were things about Draven's life that I hadn't fully explored, pieces of a puzzle I had deliberately left incomplete.
The twins, Clara and Tiara... Their nas were etched in my mind, but so were the doubts, the holes in Draven's story that I hadn't yet filled. I had crafted him, yes, but there were things about him—about his family, his past—that were still mysteries to . And that uncertainty unsettled .
"It's troubleso," I admitted, glancing out the window again, watching the rain blur the landscape. "Worrying, even. I'm afraid that if I open that door, I'll lose the balance I've been maintaining."
Alfred's gaze never left , but he remained silent, waiting. Always waiting. I had co to rely on his patience, his ability to let
untangle my thoughts without pushing
in any particular direction.
"My family," I muttered, the words unfamiliar on my tongue.
What does that even an?
I don't know them, not really.
Even in the modern world, I had parents, yes, but there wasn't much more than that.
They were distant, only present in monts of achievent. There's no... warmth in those mories.
I leaned back against the plush seat, staring at the ceiling of the carriage, letting the thoughts co and go as they pleased.
Perhaps it's the sa with Draven.
Perhaps his family is just another aspect of the story I haven't wanted to touch.
His father, his mother... his sisters.
What about them?
What do they an to him?"
I closed my eyes, feeling the weight of it all settle on
like the rain outside.
There are still so many unanswered questions.
Too many gaps in his story.
But the more I avoid it, the more I realize... I'll have to face it eventually.
Within my ti of ponderings, Alfred remained quiet, though I could feel his presence, steady and unwavering. He had always been that way, a constant in the chaos of my life. But this ti, there was sothing different—sothing that made
realize he wasn't just waiting for
to make a decision. He was hoping I would.
I suppose.
That confronting those mories would only add more obligations to my plate.
Obligations I don't have ti for.
Saving myself, saving this world...
It's all intertwined.
But saving this world has always been an excuse, hasn't it?
A reason to avoid dealing with anything personal.
I opened my eyes, staring at the rain as it poured down in sheets. The world outside the carriage was gray, cold, distant.
"And yet," I murmured, my voice barely audible over the sound of the rain, "family... That's sothing I've never truly understood. Not in the modern world, and not here."
I paused, thinking of the twins again. Clara and Tiara. Their nas echoed in my mind, but they felt distant, like sothing I had chosen to forget. And perhaps that's why eting them now felt so daunting—because it ant facing a part of myself I had ignored for so long.
As the carriage rolled on, the rain continuing to fall in heavy waves, I found myself speaking again, almost without realizing it.
"Perhaps," I whispered, "this is the right ti."
Alfred's eyes t mine, and for the first ti, I saw a glimr of sothing like relief in his gaze. He didn't say anything, but his small nod was enough.
I leaned back, closing my eyes as the carriage moved forward, and for the first ti in a long while, I allowed myself to consider the possibility of what might co next.
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