I was carried to the bed and helped into a sitting position.
The pain had dulled… but it still stung beneath the surface.
"Are you alright?" my uncle asked.
"…Mm." I nodded.
"Good." His gaze lingered on my face. "You truly resemble my sister."
"Thank you… for saving my life."
"There is no need for such formality. We are family." His tone remained even. "However, you must be more careful from now on. The chain that restrained them until today has broken."
He glanced toward the door.
"The guards will arrive soon. Your naming ceremony will begin shortly. It will be your first time stepping beyond this room."
He sat beside me, studying me in silence.
"Do you know the bird called a canary?" he asked at last. "It is admired for its bright yellow feathers. The wealthy purchase them… and place them in cages."
His hand rested lightly against the side of my neck before I noticed.
"But a finch without such brilliance is ignored."
His fingers tightened slightly—not enough to hurt.
"You are the same. If you shine, you will be caged. If you are dull, you will be forgotten."
His eyes met mine.
"So become strong. Live freely. It will not be easy… but I will protect you."
Heat suddenly surged through my body.
It felt as though something inside me was burning.
My vision blurred.
Darkness swallowed everything.
"…Ah."
A dull ache pulsed through my head as I forced my eyes open.
"Young Master, you are finally awake. Are you feeling well?"
"Yes…"
The events after my uncle saved me were hazy.
"How long was I asleep? Where is my uncle?"
"You slept for three days. According to Lord Myravel, the assassin's attack was not minor. You also suffered a head injury."
The servant hesitated.
Before he could finish—
"So you've finally woken."
Lord Myravel entered.
The servant immediately bowed. "I shall take my leave, Young Master."
"How are you feeling?" my uncle asked. "You must prepare for tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?"
"Yes. You will be meeting your father for the first time."
I remained silent.
"It is your naming ceremony," he continued. "Every member of House Luminon receives their first name and is formally recognized at the age of five."
So this is that day.
"You need not concern yourself with anything else. Rest well tonight. Tomorrow will be long."
"Will only I be present… or my siblings as well?"
"Descendants from the branch families will attend. You are the youngest of the main family."
"I understand."
"Good night. I will see you tomorrow."
He left without another word.
So tomorrow… I meet the head of this house,my father.
Sleep did not come easily.
The next morning, maids and attendants dressed me in formal attire.
"Young Master, it is time to depart for the main palace."
I entered the carriage without hesitation. Ten guards followed in disciplined formation.
The estate was vast. The outer structures rose high into the sky—towering like a hundred-story building from my previous world. It was difficult to imagine that all of this belonged to a single family.
The main palace gates opened slowly as we approached.
Before coming here, my nanny had drilled the customs and formal greetings into me repeatedly.
Lower the head.
Right hand over the heart.
Do not speak unless acknowledged.
A butler awaited me and guided me toward the ceremonial hall.
Children around my age stood in small groups. Some glanced at me openly. Others avoided eye contact altogether.
I took my position quietly to the side, maintaining posture as instructed.
Then—
"All hail! The Great Duke of House Luminon has arrived!"
The voice echoed sharply through the hall.
Every person lowered their head at once.
I followed precisely as I had been taught—right hand placed over my chest, head inclined at the proper angle.
The atmosphere changed instantly.
It was not loud.
It was not chaotic.
It was heavy.
The air itself seemed to press downward.
Respect was not requested here.
It was enforced by presence alone.
Even with my head lowered, I felt it—cold and absolute.
When permission was given and I slowly raised my gaze—
A man clad in black stood at the head of the hall.
His expression was unreadable.
His eyes were neither angry nor warm.
They were simply distant.
Measured.
As though everything before him had already been weighed and categorized.
This was not a father.
This was the Great Duke.
"Let the naming ceremony begin."