Morning sunlight gradually poured through the enormous windows of the Valecrest Manor, washing the elegant white-and-navy interiors beneath a warm golden glow while the countless servants throughout the estate quietly carried out their duties beneath an atmosphere far calr than the tension and bloodshed that had consud the manor only a short ti ago.
The soft sounds of utensils, distant footsteps, and faint murmurs occasionally drifted through the corridors, while outside the vast gardens surrounding the estate swayed gently beneath the cool morning breeze.
anwhile, inside the grand dining hall—
Damon sat quietly at the enormous dining table while finishing his breakfast in his usual composed manner.
But unlike before—
This ti, he was not alone.
Seated beside him upon a slightly smaller chair carefully prepared for her height, little Cecelia happily ate the sweets arranged before her with visible excitent, her small hands clumsily holding the spoon while bits of cream occasionally stained the corners of her lips and cheeks.
The entire atmosphere around her felt completely different compared to the withdrawn and frightened child from before.
Although she still remained quiet most of the ti—
There was now visible life within her small movents.
Visible comfort.
Visible warmth.
anwhile, Damon quietly observed her from the side while sipping his tea before eventually reaching toward her face without saying anything.
Cecelia paused mid-bite.
Then gently—
Damon wiped away the cream staining the corner of her lips using a cloth resting nearby.
"...ssy."
Cecelia blinked several tis afterward before lowering her head slightly in embarrassnt while continuing to eat more carefully afterward.
anwhile, standing nearby with breakfast trays still resting within her hands, Sahira watched the scene with barely concealed happiness visible across her face. Every now and then, her eyes would quietly drift toward Cecelia before moving toward Damon again, almost as though she still found the entire sight difficult to believe.
Especially Damon himself.
Because the current Damon sitting calmly beside Cecelia while occasionally adjusting her sleeves, fixing her posture, or quietly reminding her not to eat too quickly looked completely different from the violent and unstable young master she had once feared approaching.
At one point, Cecelia suddenly paused again before quietly lifting a small sweet toward Damon uncertainly.
"B-big brother..."
Damon glanced toward her.
Cecelia hesitated slightly before softly asking,
"...Do you want one too?"
The small awkward offering imdiately caused Sahira’s eyes to widen faintly from the side.
anwhile, Damon himself remained silent for a brief mont before eventually leaning slightly closer and calmly taking a bite directly from the sweet Cecelia held out toward him.
"...Too sweet," he comnted afterward.
Cecelia imdiately lowered her head slightly while clutching the dessert nervously.
"S-sorry..."
But Damon simply reached over and lightly patted her soft white hair afterward.
"I didn’t say it tasted bad."
Almost instantly—
A tiny smile appeared across Cecelia’s face.
anwhile, Sahira herself quietly turned her face away afterward while trying to hide the smile slowly forming upon her own lips.
The warm morning atmosphere continued quietly afterward while sunlight filled the dining hall, and for the first ti in a very long while—
The enormous Valecrest Manor actually felt sowhat alive.
After breakfast eventually ca to an end, Damon calmly stood up from the dining table while the servants imdiately stepped forward to clear the dishes away, the peaceful atmosphere lingering softly throughout the grand dining hall beneath the warm morning sunlight.
Beside him, Cecelia still held onto the half-finished sweet within her small hands while Sahira carefully wiped the cream from her cheeks again, the little girl quietly protesting in embarrassnt as Sahira smiled apologetically while continuing anyway.
anwhile, Damon simply glanced toward the two of them briefly before turning away and leaving the dining hall altogether.
The corridors of the Valecrest Manor remained quiet as he walked through them with steady footsteps, servants and attendants imdiately lowering their heads respectfully whenever he passed by. Yet compared to before, the fear surrounding Damon had subtly changed recently. The terror still existed, undeniably so, but now it mixed together with sothing else—
Confusion.
Uncertainty.
Because nobody within the manor could fully understand anymore whether the young master standing before them was still the sa Damon Valecrest they once feared.
Eventually—
Damon arrived at the training grounds situated within the eastern side of the manor estate.
The large open grounds stretched broadly beneath the morning sky while scattered guards and instructors trained nearby, though the mont Damon entered the area, countless gazes imdiately shifted toward him instinctively.
And at the center of the grounds—
Saffron already stood waiting.
The little boy gripped a wooden sword tightly within both hands while sweat lightly covered his forehead despite the training having barely begun. His dark hair moved faintly beneath the breeze while his golden eyes remained fixed upon Damon with obvious tension lingering within them.
Yet compared to before—
Sothing had changed.
The fear still existed.
But now—
There was determination mixed within it.
Damon quietly observed him for a mont before casually stepping into the center of the sparring grounds.
"Well then," Damon said calmly while loosely stretching one arm, "show what you learned."
Saffron imdiately tightened his grip upon the wooden sword afterward.
Then suddenly—
He rushed forward.
"Hyaaah!"
The wooden blade slashed directly toward Damon’s shoulder with considerably better form compared to before, the movent no longer reckless and unstable like it had originally been during their first spar.
And Damon noticed it imdiately.
His footing improved.
The strike itself was cleaner.
More balanced.
Yet—
Still predictable.
Without even bothering to draw a weapon, Damon simply tilted his body slightly sideways, allowing the wooden sword to pass harmlessly beside him before calmly stepping around Saffron’s exposed flank.
"Too wide," Damon comnted casually.
"You are overcommitting your shoulders again."
Saffron gritted his teeth imdiately before turning sharply and attacking again.
This ti, the sword ca lower.
Faster.
More controlled.
Damon lightly stepped backward.
The blade barely missed his clothes.
"Better," Damon admitted calmly.
Hearing that only caused Saffron’s eyes to sharpen further as he imdiately pressed forward again, repeatedly swinging the wooden sword toward Damon with increasing intensity while the sound of footsteps and clashing wood echoed throughout the grounds.
Yet throughout all of it—
Damon never once retaliated.
He simply moved.
Dodging.
Avoiding.
Redirecting.
Every single movent looked effortless, his clothes remaining untouched while not even a single speck of dirt clung to him despite the dusty training grounds beneath their feet.
anwhile, Saffron’s breathing gradually beca heavier and heavier the longer the spar continued.
"Hah...! Hah...!"
Sweat now dripped visibly down the little boy’s face while frustration slowly began appearing within his movents again.
Because no matter how hard he tried—
He still could not touch Damon even once.
Not even the hem of his clothes.
At one point, Saffron suddenly lunged forward with far more force than before, clearly attempting to catch Damon off guard through sheer aggression alone.
But Damon rely sidestepped smoothly before lightly tapping Saffron’s wrist.
The boy instantly lost balance.
THUD—
Saffron stumbled roughly across the ground before barely catching himself from falling completely.
"Your emotions are entering your movents again," Damon said calmly while standing behind him. "The mont frustration controls your body, your sword becos predictable."
Saffron’s teeth clenched tightly afterward.
Then imdiately—
He turned and attacked again.
And again.
And again.
Each strike carried visible improvent compared to before, his posture gradually stabilizing while the stiffness within his swordsmanship slowly disappeared little by little beneath Damon’s constant corrections.
Yet alongside that improvent—
The frustration within Saffron also continued growing.
Because despite all his effort—
Despite every improvent—
Damon still avoided every single strike as though the difference between them remained impossibly vast.
And after that—
The days within the Valecrest Manor gradually began passing beneath a strangely peaceful rhythm that nobody within the estate had expected would ever exist around Damon Valecrest again.
Morning after morning, the grand dining hall slowly beca less silent than before as little Cecelia continued sitting beside Damon during breakfast, her small hands happily reaching toward the sweets Sahira prepared while Damon occasionally wiped the cream from her cheeks with visible annoyance that no longer carried any real coldness behind it.
At first, Cecelia still hesitated whenever
speaking to him, her voice soft and uncertain as though she still feared the warmth surrounding her might disappear at any mont.
Yet little by little—
That hesitation slowly faded.
The frightened little girl who once lowered her head at every word gradually began speaking more often, asking small innocent questions in her timid voice while quietly following Damon around the manor whenever she could. Sotis she would sit silently beside him while he read docunts, sotis she would carefully tug his sleeve to show him flowers she found beautiful, and other tis she would simply remain near him quietly without saying anything at all.
And strangely—
Damon allowed it.
anwhile, Saffron’s mornings beca consud almost entirely by training.
Every single day, Damon continued appearing at the training grounds without fail, and every single day, Saffron challenged him again with the sa wooden sword clutched tightly within his hands. At first, the little boy still approached those sparring sessions with obvious fear lingering within his movents, his shoulders tense and his breathing uneven whenever Damon stepped toward him.
Yet as the days passed—
That fear gradually lessened.
The stiffness within his swordsmanship slowly disappeared beneath Damon’s constant corrections, while the frustration originally consuming him during every spar gradually transford into determination instead. His strikes beca cleaner, his footing steadier, and his reactions sharper little by little beneath Damon’s relentless pressure.
Though no matter how much Saffron improved—
He still could not land a single hit.
Not once.
And every ti Damon effortlessly avoided his attacks without even drawing a weapon, the little boy’s frustration would imdiately return all over again.
"You are thinking too much before swinging," Damon would say calmly while stepping aside from another strike.
Or—
"You are relying on your eyes too heavily. Learn to predict movent."
Or sotis—
"Again."
Only that single word.
Again and again.
And sohow—
Without anyone truly realizing when it happened—
The atmosphere between the brothers slowly changed as well.
Saffron no longer instinctively trembled whenever Damon approached him.
The fear remained, yes.
But now it mixed together with stubbornness, frustration, competitiveness, and sothing dangerously close to admiration.
Even the servants throughout the manor gradually beca quieter whenever observing the three siblings together, because the sight itself felt strangely unreal.
Damon walking through the manor corridors with Cecelia asleep against his shoulder.
Saffron loudly protesting during training while Damon casually humiliated him without effort.
Sahira nervously following behind while trying to stop Cecelia from eating too many sweets.
The enormous Valecrest Manor, which once felt cold and suffocating even during daylight, slowly began feeling sowhat alive again beneath those small everyday monts.
And before anyone truly noticed—
The days quietly passed by like that.
Until eventually—
The final evening of Damon’s stay within the Valecrest Manor arrived.
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