Caelia let out a defeated sigh, her eyes darkening as the grace of an untouchable aristocrat returned.
"…Seems word has spread farther than I'd hoped."
She turned to one of the guards near the door.
"Open it."
The man bowed with the sharp precision of a seasoned knight before striding to the entrance of the dining hall.
The heavy doors creaked open, revealing the hurried steps of the old butler, Cail.
He bowed deeply.
"My Lady, Duchess Avelyne of House Beaufort and her nephew, Edric, have arrived. They request the honor of sharing tea with you."
Caelia's eyes narrowed.
Nyx could tell by the subtle flicker of her expression that she was not pleased.
"I will meet them,"
she said coolly. Then, turning to Nyx:
"You may take your time eating—or do as you please. I'll find you once I am finished."
With those words she swept out of the hall, the air shifting with her departure.
Selene, Serra, and one guard remained.
Nyx's eyes flicked toward his maids. The pressure Caelia had unleashed earlier was nothing to scoff at. He wondered if they were all right.
What he saw nearly stunned him. They looked utterly unbothered. Not only that—they carried themselves with a steadiness that even the armored guard lacked. That guard, after all, had dropped his weapon under the weight of her aura.
But Selene? Serra?
They looked as if it had been a breeze.
Are they really that strong?
They didn't look much older than him, yet the difference felt as wide as an ocean.
Serra noticed his look.
"Is something the matter, Young Master?"
Nyx shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips.
"No. I was just… amazed at how strong you are. And beautiful, too."
Selene nearly glowed, her face blooming crimson as her eyes sparkled. Even Serra's lips curved faintly at the words.
Nyx chuckled under his breath. Adorable. Too adorable.
After reassuring himself of their condition, he returned to the food, eating until he was comfortably full.
With his late breakfast finished, he rose.
"Let's take a look outside."
Selene guided him with confidence and delight. She had served longer than Serra and knew the estate well. Serra followed in quiet grace.
The garden lay before them—vivid, carefully kept. Flowers of every hue bloomed in neat patterns, the paths winding like painted strokes.
Nyx stood silent for a moment, surprised.
He hadn't expected Caelia to like flowers so much.
Truth be told, he didn't care much for them. They looked nice, sure, but what did they do? You poured work into them for nothing in return. A scam, as far as he was concerned.
But he also knew that mindset was his own—born from a twisted life clawing at survival.
Selene, however, looked radiant, her joy as she described each flower infectious. So he stayed silent, letting her have her fun.
When the tour was finished, he finally asked,
"Can you take me to the training grounds? I want to see how the knights train."
Selene nodded eagerly, and they turned to leave.
They'd barely stepped beyond the flower beds when a sharp, mocking voice cut through the air:
"Hey! You peasants—what do you think you're doing here?"
A young man stood ahead on the path, draped in silks too fine for the morning sun. His features were sharp, almost handsome, but twisted with arrogance. Behind him trailed a pair of retainers, carrying themselves with the swagger of men who thought their master untouchable.
Selene froze instantly, her smile vanishing. Serra's gaze hardened like steel.
Nyx, on the other hand, simply arched a brow.
The boy strutted closer, sneering.
"This is the private garden of Lady Caelia. Servants have no right to parade through it."
His gaze swept over Selene and Serra dismissively before landing on Nyx. He scoffed.
"And you—what insolence. Dressed like that, walking as if you belong? Know your place."
Nyx didn't answer.
Silence was its own kind of weapon.
The boy's sneer deepened.
"Cat got your tongue? Or are you simply too stupid to speak without permission?"
His retainers chuckled, feeding his ego.
Selene's fists clenched at her sides. "Watch your words! The Young Master is—"
"Selene,"
Nyx interrupted softly, without looking at her. His tone was calm, almost bored.
"Don't waste your breath."
That only infuriated the boy further. His face flushed red, his voice rising.
"You dare ignore me?! You lowborn wretch—I'll teach you the discipline you clearly lack!"
With a sharp gesture, one of his retainers tossed him a slender dueling cane tipped with steel. The boy caught it with practiced ease, spinning it arrogantly in his hand.
He pointed it straight at Nyx's chest.
"Kneel. Or I'll make you."
Selene took half a step forward, panic clear in her eyes, but Serra placed a restraining hand on her arm. Her voice was low, steady.
"Wait."
Nyx finally smiled—a thin, cutting curve.
"Kneel? To you?"
His voice dripped with sarcasm.
"You must have mistaken me for someone who gives a damn."
Gasps erupted from the servants, Selene's breath caught, and Edric's face twisted in rage.
"You insolent bastard! Do you even realize who I am?!"
He slammed the tip of his cane into the gravel, chin lifting proudly.
"I am Edric Beaufort—of House Beaufort. You'll kneel, or I'll break you where you stand."
He raised the cane, stepping forward with clear intent to strike down.
Edric's sneer widened as his retainers shifted forward, stepping into the gravel path.
Selene instinctively moved half a step in front of Nyx, her back stiff, eyes blazing. Serra mirrored her with quiet precision, tray angled low at her side like a shield in disguise.
Nyx's gaze flicked between them all—the arrogant noble brat, his two thugs, his own maids tense and ready. No guards. No audience. Just them in the garden.
Perfect. No one to stop this from spiraling. Just me and my two maids against a spoiled kid with delusions of grandeur. What's the worst that could happen?
His lips twitched, almost a smile.
The retainers cracked their knuckles and stepped closer.
"Hold him,"
Edric ordered, voice sharp.
"Let's see how long his arrogance lasts once he's on the ground."
Selene's fists clenched, trembling with the urge to lash out. Serra, calmer, slid a half-step sideways, cutting the angle. They didn't move to attack—yet—but their bodies screamed one thing clearly: You won't touch him without going through us.
Edric's command hung in the air like a whip crack.
His retainers moved at once, boots crunching on the gravel as they closed in, each reaching out to seize Nyx by the arms.
Selene flared instantly, stepping into their path.
"Don't you dare—!"
Her voice was sharp, but Edric only smirked.
"Oh? The little maid thinks she has a say?"
He flicked the cane in her direction.
"Step aside, or I'll make sure you're punished alongside your little friend."
Serra's hand darted out, steel-fast, catching the cane just as it jabbed forward. The movement was smooth, controlled, not even rattling the porcelain tray she still held in her other hand.
Her eyes locked onto Edric's, calm but cold enough to chill bone.
"You will not touch him,"
she said evenly.
The retainers froze mid-step, surprised by her speed. Edric, however, only grew more furious, jerking his cane back.
"How dare you put your hands on me, servant!"
Nyx exhaled slowly through his nose, watching the chaos unfold.
This is ridiculous. A spoiled noble brat throwing tantrums, two dogs ready to bite, and my maids caught between protecting me and not causing a political incident. Typical.
He tilted his head, voice dripping with mockery.
"So this is the pride of House Beaufort?
Two trained dogs to hold down unarmed servants, while the master waves a stick around?"
Edric's face turned crimson.
"You insolent piece of trash!"
"Careful,"
Nyx added, tone almost playful now.
"If you shout any louder, the flowers might wither. And then what would Lady Caelia say about you ruining her lovely garden?"
The boy snapped.
"Seize him!"
The retainers lunged.
Selene moved first, sliding between them and Nyx, her arms raised in a defensive cross. She caught the first man's strike on her forearm, twisting her body to shove him sideways into the hedge. The second swung wide at Nyx, but Serra was there, tray flashing up with a sharp clang as she intercepted the blow. The sound rang like steel on steel, though the tray didn't so much as dent.
Nyx hadn't moved an inch. He just watched, lips curling in the faintest smirk.
And here I thought today would be boring.
Edric raised his cane high, fury in every line of his body.
"You'll regret this, you bastard!"
he spat, stepping forward to strike—
And this time, the blow connected.
The steel tip slammed into Nyx's shoulder with brutal force.
White-hot agony tore through him, sharp and blinding, as if fire had been driven straight into his flesh. His knees almost buckled, his vision swam for a heartbeat. Warm blood surged, spilling fast, soaking through the fabric of his tunic.
He staggered half a step back, breath catching in his chest. His jaw locked, teeth grinding so hard it felt like they might crack. But no sound left his throat. No cry, no groan—just silence.
Selene's voice shattered it, raw and panicked.
"Young Master!"
Serra's eyes widened, cold fury flashing through them as she shoved her retainer aside.
Edric sneered down at him, eyes blazing with triumph.
"Pathetic. All that arrogance, and you can't even defend yourself."
Nyx straightened slowly, his body trembling, blood dripping steady and bright—but his gaze… his gaze burned. Not with pain. Not even with anger. Something darker.
Edric raised his cane again, fury silencing any trace of reason.
The steel whistled down—
Clang!
The sound split the garden like a thunderclap. Steel met steel, the cane halted mid-swing by a blade that had appeared as if from nowhere.
Edric froze, eyes wide, his arm trembling against the weight pressing his weapon back.
A cold voice cut through the garden, slicing sharper than any sword.
"Enough."