Night draped the royal capital in velvet shadows, the moonlight spilling softly over the tiled roofs and gilded spires.
Inside a grand mansion, servants moved like whispers — quiet, efficient, unseen. The air smelled faintly of old books, candle wax, and expensive tea.
A lone butler, grey-haired and straight-backed despite his age, strode quickly through the corridor. His gloved hand brushed past portraits and marble busts until he reached a towering door engraved with runes of the Valentine crest — though no one dared call it that aloud yet.
He knocked twice.
"Enter," came a deep voice, calm yet commanding.
The old butler, stepped inside. The chamber was vast — part study, part sitting room — and bathed in the warm glow of candlelight. At its center sat a man and woman sharing tea beside a small cake whose single candle had already extinguished.
The man's sharp eyes lifted first. His half, silvered but neatly combed, gave him a look of quiet authority.
"You're late this time, Sebastian," he said, voice low but edged with that habitual arrogance of someone used to obedience.
Before the butler could answer, the woman beside him placed her cup down, a hint of impatience softening her otherwise gentle face.
"Oh, hush, Alarik. Don't scold him now. Show it to me, Sebastian — quickly. I've waited long enough to see how my grandson's birthday went."
Sebastian bowed and hurried to comply. From his inner coat, he produced a crystalline device — a projection orb etched with delicate mana lines. He set it on the table and activated it with a touch.
Light spilled out like water.
A smiling boy and his parents appeared in the air — laughter frozen in a moving picture. They were gathered around a small table, celebrating a birthday with a modest cake. The boy's eyes shone with joy and mischief both.
Alarik leaned back slightly, a faint smirk curving his lips.
"Look at that posture. Confident. Handsome too. He takes after me at that age."
Anastasia chuckled, though her gaze softened with something more tender.
"And just as reckless, I'm sure. He looks like Roy when he was young — though I see your pride hasn't changed in decades."
The image shifted again — the same boy now standing in a forest clearing, facing three mana beasts. A sword in hand, mana swirling faintly around him. The projection flared as the scene played out: precise footwork, quick movements, bursts of raw potential. Then chaos — more beasts emerging, the boy's panicked shout for his father echoing before the image faded.
Anastasia smiled through her sigh. "Oh dear… he's strong, but still a child. That recklessness will get him hurt one day."
Alarik exhaled through his nose, arms crossed. "That's my grandson — fearless, talented, and… admittedly a bit dramatic. Just like me."
He said it with such matter-of-fact pride that Anastasia rolled her eyes.
The orb dimmed, its image fading into the air. Silence settled, but warmth lingered.
Anastasia gestured toward the wall where dozens of framed images already hung — from a baby barely walking to a young boy grinning proudly beside his parents.
"Frame these as well, Sebastian," she said softly. "And place them beside the others."
Sebastian bowed low. "At once, my lady."
But he hesitated. Something weighed on his mind — a doubt he had carried for years, now too heavy to remain silent. After a pause, he spoke carefully.
"My lord… if I may present my doubts?"
Alarik looked up from his tea, one eyebrow raised. "Speak."
Sebastian hesitated, then met his master's gaze — a rare show of courage.
"You and my lady love young lord Lance dearly. And yet… you never call for him. You send me year after year to watch from afar, but never reach out. Is it that you still haven't forgiven Master Roy?"
For a long moment, Alarik said nothing. The fire crackled softly, reflecting in his cold grey eyes.
When he finally spoke, his tone carried weight. "No, Sebastian. I forgave Roy long ago — just after Lance was born, in fact."
That revelation drew a quiet gasp from the butler, but Alarik continued, voice steady and firm.
"I was angry, yes. He threw away an engagement, a title, and our standing among nobles. But I could never hate him — nor his child. What I cannot forgive," he said, lowering his gaze, "is that he didn't try to come back nor asked for forgiveness."
Sebastian frowned slightly. "Then… you hate Lady Cecil?"
Before Alarik could answer, Anastasia's soft voice cut in. "At first, yes," she admitted, looking down at her teacup. "I thought she was only after Roy's name she was nothing more than a lowly commoner how could she be worthy of my son — that she'd leave him once he lost his title. I was wrong. Years have passed, and she stayed. That's why her picture is here among ours."
She smiled faintly, her voice warm but tinged with melancholy ""I am still griefed that she took my son away from me it's been a decade and a half."
Sebastian's brow furrowed in quiet confusion. "Then why, if I may ask, still keep them apart? Why not call them home?"
This time Alarik answered before the question had even fully left the butler's lips.
"It's politics, Sebas. Roy was engaged to the royal family of Silva under the promise I made to Robert Silva — a royal ally. Breaking that engagement was a public insult, a direct blow to the Silva house's pride. Even with our influence, we couldn't risk open conflict. To protect the family's standing… I had to appear unforgiving."
He leaned back, closing his eyes briefly. "If I had called Roy back then, the Silvas would have felt insulted but now things are differentmy grandson is 15 now he has to take step out of the common realm he is so outstanding such magic power and control."
"Then do something about it how long am I supposed to stay away from my only grandson. You promised me it's until he awakens his grimoire." Anastasia Questioned.
"When is the grimoire awakening ceremony." Alarik asked his eyes closed deep in thought.
"In 7 days my lord." Sebas answered.
"Right!, Schedule a meeting with Robert. It's about time for my grandson to come back."
7 days later:
"Mom, Dad I am going to Windrow bye!" Lance announced and stormed out of the gate as Roy and Cecil bid him well.
Just as he dissapeared out of sight. Roy and Cecil looked at each other in the eye and rushed back in.
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"THIS ISN'T EVEN A BOOK!! IT'S JUST A PIECE OF PAPER!!!"
Murmurs exploded around him like wildfire.
"Is that… really a grimoire?"
"That's impossible! Grimoires are books!"
"Did the tower malfunction?!"
"What kind of magic does a blank paper even have?!"
"Hahahaha!! What not a even a whole grimoire." Two boys clearly twins mocked the boy in perfect tune with eachother at the boy.
The tower mage, Eldric, stared down from the platform—speechless for the first time in years.
The boy continued shouting, furious and confused.
"WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH THIS?! WRITE NOTES?! WIPE MY FACE WITH IT?! THIS IS A SCAM!!"
While in the audience Two cloaked figures witnessed the commission.
"Dear, Good thing we came anyway." A cloaked figure spoke to another.
"You, actually considered not coming." Cecil looked at Roy in desbelief. When Lance requested to come alone she just agreed on surface there is no way she is not seeing him getting his grimoire much more reason to come after Lance voiced his concerns about not receiving a grimoire.