CHAPTER 2
The morning sunlight streamed through the tall arched windows of the Voss Estate dining hall. The long mahogany table was laid out with freshly baked bread, fluffy scrambled eggs, chilled orange juice, and delicate silver bowls filled with assorted jams. The entire spread looked impeccable.
Kael Voss sat alone at one end of the table, still dressed in his soft navy pajamas, his dark hair tousled from sleep. He quietly spread butter across a slice of toast and took slow, thoughtful bites.
Draven Voss stood motionless in the wide doorway, arms folded tightly across his chest. He was already fully dressed in his crisp academy uniform, tie knotted perfectly, shoes polished to a mirror shine. His sharp gray eyes fixed on Kael for a long, silent moment.
Kael lifted his head and met his gaze directly.
Draven released a short, icy huff of laughter — nothing warm or kind about it. Without uttering a single word, he strode past Kael's chair with rigid shoulders, his polished shoes clicking sharply against the marble floor. He headed straight for the sweeping staircase and vanished upstairs.
The elderly butler, Mr. Harlan, approached quietly, wiping his hands on a small linen cloth.
"Young Master Kael, did Young Master Draven wake up in a foul mood this morning?" he asked gently.
Kael glanced down at his half-eaten toast and gave a small shrug.
"I have no clue…"
He replied, continuing to eat.
Night fell.
The grand estate grew quiet and dim, with only a handful of wall lamps casting soft golden pools of light along the corridors.
Kael stepped out of his bedroom wearing a loose t-shirt and comfortable shorts, rubbing his tired eyes. He rounded the corner and—
BAM!
He collided straight into Draven, who was heading in the opposite direction.
Kael stumbled backward a step.
"Sorry! I didn't see you coming…"
Draven's eyes narrowed with clear irritation.
"Watch where you're walking next time!" he snapped, his tone harsh and cutting.
He attempted to shove past.
Kael turned fully toward him, brow furrowed.
"Hey! What's your issue? You're the one who ran into me! If anyone has the right to be upset, it's me!"
Draven halted mid-step, his back still facing Kael. Slowly, he pivoted around, his voice dropping to a low, frosty murmur.
"Why? Why should it be you?"
He let out a bitter, mocking laugh.
"Let me guess… because you're the true heir of the legendary Flame Sovereign? Because you're the strongest one in this house? The future master of the estate?"
He took a step closer, his gray eyes blazing with resentment.
"Or is it simply because I'm just the adopted cousin? I don't get any real voice here? Is that what you think, Kael?"
Kael remained still, not flinching, only looking genuinely puzzled.
"What are you even talking about, Draven? None of that makes any sense."
Draven's expression twisted with frustration.
"I'm talking nonsense now, am I?"
He jabbed a finger hard against his own chest.
"Tomorrow, you'll understand exactly what I mean."
He whirled around, stormed down the hallway to his room, and slammed the door with such force that the walls vibrated.
Kael stared at the closed door for a moment.
"What's his problem…?"
he whispered to himself.
He shook his head slowly and headed downstairs.
The kitchen was illuminated by a single warm overhead light above the sink. Mr. Harlan stood there washing dishes, sleeves rolled up neatly, humming an old melody under his breath.
Kael walked in.
Mr. Harlan looked up and smiled warmly when he saw him.
"Young Master Kael, still up at this hour?"
"Yeah… just came down for some water."
Kael filled a glass from the large pitcher on the counter and downed half of it in one long gulp.
"Young Master Draven was here earlier too," Mr. Harlan mentioned.
"You must have crossed paths with him?"
Kael let out a tired sigh.
"Yeah. More like he barreled straight into me."
Mr. Harlan chuckled softly.
"Don't judge him too harshly. He hasn't stayed at the estate in years. He's still adjusting to being back."
Kael pulled out one of the kitchen stools and sat down, resting his chin in his palm.
"Mr. Harlan… Could you tell me more about Draven? I feel like I should understand who he really is… and exactly which branch of the family he comes from."
Mr. Harlan dried his hands thoroughly on a clean towel, then pulled up another stool and sat across from Kael.
He offered a gentle, knowing smile.
"Very well. If you truly want to know… I'll tell you everything about Young Master Draven."