Pico fussed over the collar of my jacket like a tailor on a mission. "Hold still, young master. If you keep moving, it will crease."
"I'm not moving. You're choking me," I muttered.
She sniffed primly. "Handsome clothes demand discipline."
Before I could protest, the door burst open and Susan charged in, skirts flaring. "Lucian! A disaster!"
I frowned. "What now? Lose another ribbon?"
"It's not ribbons!" She grabbed my sleeve dramatically. "Marcus isn't back yet!"
"…With the gift?"
"Yes—the pendant! What are we supposed to give Jason if it isn't here?"
The image of Jason unwrapping nothing in front of the nobles flashed through my head. "That would be… memorable. For all the wrong reasons."
Susan paced like a general mid-crisis. "What if he doesn't return in time?"
The door opened again, and Marcus entered—calm, collected, carrying a small velvet box.
"Young lady. Young master," he greeted with a bow. "My apologies for the delay. The craftsman required additional time."
Susan nearly ripped the box from his hands. "Marcus! Do you know how close I was to fainting?"
I exhaled in relief. "Cutting it close, but good work."
Marcus allowed himself a small, smug smile. "You need not worry so much."
Crisis averted, we followed Pico toward the banquet hall.
The great hall glowed beneath golden chandeliers. Silver candelabras lined the walls, garlands looped elegantly between them, and nobles murmured in polished tones while musicians tuned their strings.
Father, Susan, and I descended the staircase together. Every eye followed us, though tonight, the spotlight belonged elsewhere.
At the base of the stairs, Father's commanding voice filled the room.
"We thank you all for joining us this evening. Tonight marks my firstborn's twelfth year—his first steps toward adulthood. On behalf of House Vanheart, I extend my gratitude."
Polite applause rippled through the crowd. Then Mother appeared, her hand resting proudly on Jason's arm.
Jason wore deep navy robes embroidered in silver, every inch the noble heir. Together, they descended under renewed applause. At Father's nod, Jason stepped forward.
"I am honored by your presence on this day," he began, calm and measured. "Your blessings mark the beginning of my journey. I shall strive to embody my father's virtues—strength, integrity, and duty—and to wield them in service to those who trust me. For this, I thank you."
More applause followed, warm and approving. I had to admit, the guy could talk.
At the center of the hall, a towering three-tier cake awaited. Jason sliced into it to cheers and laughter, the air thick with sugar and pride.
Then came the gifts.
Father went first, presenting a silver brooch shaped into our crest—a lion beside a flag. "Carry this with pride," he said gravely. "It bears our name and your duty."
Mother followed, offering a spellbook bound in leather. "For your coming studies. May it guide you well."
Finally, Susan and I stepped forward. She opened the velvet box with theatrical care, revealing a silver pendant set with a Navaratna gem that shimmered deep violet under candlelight.
Jason's eyes widened. "A Navaratna…" He lifted it reverently, light dancing across its surface. Then he smiled—genuine and soft. "This is no ordinary gift. It will remind me of my family. Thank you, both."
Susan grinned. "You'd better keep it safe, brother."
"Just don't break it," I added dryly.
He chuckled, clasping it around his neck. "I will treasure it—always."
For a fleeting moment, the music faded, leaving only warmth—Jason smiling, Mother glowing with pride, Father's stern face softened.
When the cake was gone and the formalities ended, the real party began. Servants hurried with trays of wine and sparkling juice, laughter filled the air, and nobles mingled in polished clusters.
I stuck close to Susan at first—safety in numbers—but that didn't last. A pack of noble girls spotted her and whisked her away.
So there I was, a lonely decorative prop at my brother's celebration. My eyes naturally drifted toward Jason.
Of course, he wasn't alone. Three girls surrounded him and Jason looked like he'd been born for it. Smooth smiles, charming laughs, perfectly placed compliments. The future King of Flirtation.
I sighed. Great. He's not just the model heir—he's the main character in a romance novel.
Then, a voice behind me: "Oh? Young Master Lucian?"
I turned. A young woman with chestnut hair and warm brown eyes approached. Recognition struck. Jason's tutor—Mina. Seventeen or eighteen, poised, elegant..
She gave a polite bow. "My, you've grown since I last saw you properly."
"Ah, yes," I said awkwardly. "You're… Jason's tutor, right?"
"That I am," she smiled. But her gaze slid toward Jason, still surrounded by admirers. The smile thinned. "I see nothing's changed. Surrounded by them again."
Her tone was polite, but the edge was sharp.
"I suppose he's… popular," I offered.
"Popular," she echoed, half-laughing. "Too smooth for his own good." Then her eyes softened on me. "But I heard you managed mana pooling on your first try. That's quite the feat."
I rubbed the back of my neck. "It was… luck."
She shook her head gently. "No, that kind of control isn't luck. You should be proud."
Before I could thank her, a familiar voice called from across the hall.
"Lucian! Come here."
Father stood beside a tall man with silver-streaked hair and a woman in an elegant gown. A girl about my age stood before them.
I excused myself quickly and made my way over.
"Lucian," Father said, smiling, "allow me to reintroduce Lord Cedric Halden and Lady Elara. You met them during your first-year ceremony—though you were far too small to remember."
I bowed politely. "It's an honor."
Cedric chuckled. "You've grown well, boy. Resemble your father more and more."
Lady Elara smiled kindly.
Father nodded approvingly, then gestured toward the girl. "This is their daughter, Aria."
The girl stepped forward, curtsying lightly. She had soft auburn hair tied with a ribbon and bright green eyes that caught the lamplight.
"It's a pleasure, Sir Lucian," she said with practiced grace.
"Likewise, Lady Aria," I replied, returning the bow.
Our parents exchanged knowing smiles—the kind that screamed future alliances—before drifting off to discuss politics and trade. And suddenly, it was just the two of us.
For a heartbeat, silence. Then Aria tilted her head, a playful glint in her eyes.
"So," she said, lowering her voice conspiratorially, "do you always look so serious, or is it just tonight?"
I blinked. "I wasn't aware I looked serious."
She laughed softly. "You do. It's endearing—like you're studying everyone."
For some reason, I didn't mind her teasing. "Well, someone has to stay serious while my brother entertains half the hall."
Her gaze flicked toward Jason, now laughing gracefully with his admirers. She shook her head. "Your brother's certainly charming. But I prefer thoughtful conversation."
"Oh?" I asked, intrigued. "And what would you like to discuss, Lady Aria?"
She grinned faintly. "Anything but politics or alliances. I've had enough of those to last a lifetime."