There was no room for objection. The Royal Magic Academy of the Capital was about to begin its annual term—an unavoidable summons. Although Sophia would have preferred to keep her son under the protection of the Duchy, she understood it was a necessary political act. The nobles were required to report to the Capital for four months to receive instruction and demonstrate loyalty to the Crown. Afterward, they would return, as the Douglas Duchy was vital to the kingdom's economy—overseeing the harvest and facing the dangerous mating and migration season of monsters that emerged from the dense mana of the forest.
The real problem, however, wasn't bureaucracy. It was fate. There, in the heart of the kingdom, Lusian would inevitably meet his fiancée, Emily—the future Saint of Light—the very woman destined to drive a sword through him.
The urgency was twofold: the approaching start of classes and the internal fracture within House Douglas that threatened to condemn him. Only a month remained, and Lusian felt as if he were being dragged toward the gallows.
Although the destination was unavoidable, the travel arrangements were unexpected. Lusian instinctively headed toward the main carriage—the ostentatious vehicle reserved for Duke Laurence. But Sophia, immaculate and wrapped in a silk-wool cloak, stopped him with the slightest gesture.
"You will travel with me, Lusian," she announced in that melodic voice that allowed no argument.
Lusian didn't need the young Douglas's memories to understand the implication: family coexistence was a minefield. Duke Laurence and his concubine, Martha, would travel with Caleb—the father's favored half-brother. Sophia, the Duchess by decree and the Omega-affinity woman chosen by lineage, would travel with the rightful heir. The family was literally divided into two factions—even on the journey.
Alongside them, the traveling contingent was immense: five hundred warriors and soldiers marched under the command of Albert and Garet. Monica, Sophia's personal assistant, rode with them in the carriage. Faced with such a display, Lusian thought with irony: Monsters and bandits should be afraid. We're traveling with an army.
He followed his mother to a more discreet carriage, marked with a complex protection rune. Upon entering, the interior amazed him: velvet cushions, soft light filtering through engraved crystal panels. There were no horses pulling the vehicle.
"Technology works differently here," Lusian murmured, observing how a mana core glowed beneath the floor, powering the carriage's movement.
"It is applied magic, my son," Sophia replied calmly as she took her seat. Her mere presence reminded Lusian that she was the reason for such comfort. She was the most powerful woman in the kingdom, chosen for the Douglas lineage because of her magical affinity—an affinity that Laurence, the Duke, openly despised, favoring Martha instead.
The carriage glided along the road with absolute smoothness, driven by that silent mana. The journey lasted a week, and thanks to the magical comfort, Lusian barely felt it.
With every passing mile, he drew closer to the Capital—and to the woman who would kill him: Emily, the Saint of Light.
Lusian watched the sunset, already dreading the conflicts that awaited him.