It wasn't that Nyx had suddenly become overambitious or delusional.
His goal had always been simple.
To live comfortably. To have money, plenty of it. To get a girlfriend, maybe even start a family one day.
A life far away from chaos, far away from the ugliness of humanity.
And he had always known one thing: if you wanted peace in this world, you had to be either filthy rich—or strong enough that no one dared bother you.
Which is why this was a golden opportunity he couldn't miss. Strength couldn't be gained overnight, that much he knew. But nobility? Nobility brought with it respect, influence, and most importantly—wealth.
The only possible course of action:
"I want to regain my status as a noble."
His eyes burned with resolve. His voice carried no hesitation.
It was his best shot. With nobility came power, and with power came security. The image of himself casually tossing gold coins around as if it were toilet paper at Halloween almost made him grin.
Caelia chuckled softly, easing just a little as if his honesty had softened the tension.
But then—her body tensed. As though a spark of electricity had shot through her veins.
"Wait,"
she said quickly, her words almost tripping over themselves.
"Why do you want to become a noble again? Is it… because you want to distance yourself from me now that you're free? Now that you already have two beauties serving you?"
Her frown was faint, but the fact it was there at all surprised him. She herself didn't seem to understand why this bothered her so much.
Nyx had smoothed his voice a little bit and calmed the atmosphere for his request. He knew it was a bit unreasonable and Caelia didn't like his cold tone.
So to stake up his odds for success he had to soften her a bit.
"That's not it. I just don't want to bother you for too long. Even if you don't care about it."
She looked at him deadpan.
"Is that not distancing yourself from me? You just worded it different."
Nyx didn't know if he should be annoyed by the fact that she caught on to his move or laugh at how funny she looked.
But he wouldn't back down. He had to push through.
"You're misunderstanding. Just think about it. People of my current status aren't normally involved with nobility. And if we are, it gets heavily criticized from both sides—nobility and peasantry alike. It would only ruin your image."
She still didn't seem convinced. Her lips parted as if she were about to argue again, her brow furrowed, her fingers drumming nervously against the table.
But Nyx pressed on.
"If I get my title back, it would mean we could spend more time together. We could attend banquets together, auctions. You wouldn't have to go there alone anymore."
Caelia stilled. His words hung in the air, burrowing into her despite her resistance. Her expression softened slightly, though her gaze flickered, uncertain.
She wanted to say no. To reject the idea. But something about it appealed to her more than she cared to admit. She hated those gatherings, the endless smiles, the politics behind every glass of wine. And the thought of not enduring them alone…
For a moment, her eyes betrayed her—longing, quickly veiled again by composure.
"I… see."
Her voice was quieter, still conflicted, but the doubt was cracking.
Caelia's lips parted, then closed again. Her fingers drummed once, twice against the table.
"I… don't know if this is wise."
Her eyes flicked away, troubled.
"Nobility is… chains of another kind. Are you sure that's what you want?"
Nyx didn't flinch. His gaze held steady.
And slowly—hesitantly—her shoulders eased.
"...Alright. If this is truly what you want—then I'll help you."
Her words carried weight now. They weren't lighthearted, nor quickly given. It was a promise she'd wrestled with before speaking.
A weak smile curved her lips.
"Still, your case is… different."
Her smile faded into something more serious.
Nyx leaned forward a bit, making sure to pay as much attention as possible.
"If your case were normal—say, you were simply kicked out for some crime or other reasons—we could pressure your house into letting you back. House Veylin was strong, no doubt. Even problematic for me. But they wouldn't make an enemy out of me just for that."
She let the words hang. Her eyes flicked to the guards, then the door, and finally back to him.
"But this isn't about a simple exile."
Her tone dropped, quieter now. She leaned closer across the table, her hand half-covering her lips, voice lowering until it was almost a whisper.
"House Veylin… is gone. Overrun. Slaughtered."
Nyx's eyes narrowed.
Destroyed? He had thought he'd just been thrown out. The differences between his life and this one's were piling higher and higher.
Caelia studied him, then hesitated again. A shadow crossed her expression, something darker, more dangerous.
"And there's more. People think abominations did it. But that's only the surface."
Her gaze darted once more to the guards, as if even speaking further could draw danger on them. Then she leaned in, so close he felt her breath by his ear.
"The inheritance of House Veylin,"
she whispered,
"isn't just wealth or land. It is said to bind souls… even space itself… into the family's soulrealm."
Nyx froze.
"To carry your domain with you. To subjugate others' souls. To hide anything—or anyone—inside. Always."
She pulled back, eyes glinting.
"That is why your house burned. And that is why, if you want your claim, you'll need the inheritance. Without it, no noble would accept you. And with it… you'll paint a target on your back brighter than the sun."
Nyx's blood ran cold—yet a spark lit in his chest, sharp and hungry. Terrifying? Yes. Overwhelming? Absolutely.
But the thought of carrying power like that—the thought of bending rules like this—ignited something in him.
If such a thing truly existed, he would claim it. No matter the cost.
To bind souls was already terrifying. But to bind space itself? To carry fortresses, to hide armies? No wonder they had been envied. No wonder they had been slaughtered.
For a fleeting moment, doubt cut through
What if she was lying? What if this story about the inheritance was just another chain—one she wrapped around his neck with silk instead of iron?
His eyes narrowed briefly on Caelia's face. Beautiful. Calm. unreadable.
He couldn't trust her fully. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
But… he still needed her.
"You'll need that inheritance if you want to claim your title as head of House Veylin,"
Her voice softened.
"But it will be dangerous. You're only safe now because you're with me. The auction has already made your survival public. More and more people are learning about you."
She exhaled slowly, her body relaxing just a little.
"Once you claim the inheritance, everything will be easier. Until then—you'll need to be careful."
A sudden knock rattled the dining hall doors. Too sharp. Too urgent.