Luther’s jaw tightened. He looked at Logan again, and this ti more closely.
"With all due respect," he said slowly, "this isn’t a ga. We shouldn’t....."
He wanted to continue but Rowan’s look stopped him from saying more.
Logan on the other hand, just t his gaze silently, as if he hadn’t said anything unusual at all.
Luther frowned. He didn’t like it—but sothing told him that this boy wasn’t just bluffing. After all, he had years of experience in questioning people and seeing through their lies.
And Logan’s eyes? They may have belonged to a kid, but they weren’t the eyes of a liar, for sure.
Rowan set his cup down, his eyes lingering on Logan—not with suspicion, but with growing curiosity.
"You sound confident," he said in a low voice. "Can you really do it?"
Logan t his gaze calmly. "I’m not sure if I can make them talk," he said. "But it’s worth trying."
He looked toward the terrace railing. "They ca after you, and you don’t seem to have bad blood with anyone. So this isn’t a personal vendetta, for sure. We need to know who sent them and what’s their pri objective. Getting answers is worth the effort."
There was no bravado in his tone. No showing off. Just quiet determination.
Rowan leaned back, letting the words settle.
"Well," he said, picking up his teacup again, "let’s eat first."
A small grin appeared on his lips.
Rowan wouldn’t believe anyone else if they said the sa thing. But Logan? He knew that Logan wasn’t a person who would bluff.
"I don’t want to witness this technique of yours on an empty stomach."
He tried to sound casual—but his heart was beating a little faster.
He was curious.
Very curious.
Because if Logan really had a thod that worked... then today might beco far more interesting than he’d expected.
"Luther," he said without looking up, "wait in the underground cellar. We’ll co after we’re done with our breakfast."
The man hesitated only for a heartbeat. Then he bowed.
"As you command, Your Highness."
He turned and left the terrace, his steps were quiet but deliberate. The door clicked softly behind him, leaving the two alone.
Rowan, putting down his own teacup, poured another cup of tea and slid it across the table toward Logan.
"Once we are done," he said casually. "We can go and see if your technique really works."
Logan gave a faint smile and reached for one of the folded olets.
The terrace fell quiet again—just the occasional clink of cutlery and the soft rustle of morning wind.
Neither of them spoke much after that. After three days of continuous fighting, exhaustion and tension, the calm environnt felt relaxing and too peaceful.
Suddenly Rowan gave a quiet chuckle. "If Daliah knew I was letting a twelve-year-old question prisoners, she’d probably give an earful."
Logan smiled faintly. "Then maybe it’s better if she doesn’t find out."
Rowan was about to respond, but suddenly—
The terrace door opened with a click....
And then....
Clack, clack, clack...
The sound wasn’t threatening. In fact, it was oddly rhythmic—like soone stomping around with oversized shoes.
Both Logan and Rowan turned toward the noise.
It was Daliah.
She was wearing her favorite bunny slippers—pink, fluffy, and shaped like grinning rabbits. The ears flopped with every step, and the soles let out a soft squeak every ti she moved.
She marched in like a tiny commander on a mission.
Hands on her hips. Eyebrows raised. Serious expression.
Rowan blinked. "Ah. Speak of the devil," he thought.
"...Why do I feel like you two are about to do sothing stupid?" Daliah asked, "what’s better if I don’t find out?"
Rowan raised both hands like a guilty culprit. "We were just... eating breakfast."
"Lies," she said flatly.
"You." Then she looked at Logan. "If my brother ends up in another ss, I’m blaming you first."
Logan just blinked. "I was eating olet."
"Exactly," she huffed. "That’s always how it starts. No one knows anything."
Daliah squinted at him, then slumped into a chair with an exaggerated sigh. "But if sothing fun’s happening and I’m not invited, I will riot."
Logan tried—and failed—not to laugh.
"This brother-sister duo was unlike any other." He told himself.
But Rowan wasn’t in a relaxed mood anymore. He wanted to take Logan to the cellar and interrogate those two prisoners, but Daliah ruined it.
"This was going to be harder to sneak past her than expected." Rowan thought. Then said to Daliah, "You ca early today."
Daliah crossed her arms. "I couldn’t sleep. Too many thoughts bouncing in my head."
"Then why not join us for breakfast?" Logan added.
Daliah glanced at the food and wrinkled her nose.
"I don’t eat breakfast. Makes feel bloated. I’ll eat a proper lunch."
Logan looked genuinely surprised. "You skip breakfast... by choice?"
Rowan chuckled. "Don’t question her logic. She claims it’s part of her self-declared ’nutritional schedule.’"
Daliah sniffed proudly. "Exactly. Eat less, move faster. I’m a growing girl, not a goat."
Rowan poured more tea in his cup, casually hiding his earlier nervousness.
"We’ll interrogate the prisoners later tonight," he said quietly to Logan. "When she’s asleep."
Logan gave a slight nod.
"For now," Rowan continued, louder this ti, "we’ll visit the library. I need to review so maps anyway."
"Maps?" Daliah blinked. "That sounds incredibly boring."
"Which is exactly why we’re not inviting you," Rowan replied smoothly.
Daliah scoffed. "Tch. Alright. But if I find out, you guys are doing sothing interesting without inviting , then....."
She made a threatening gesture with her hand instead of finishing the sentence.
She got up and stretched like a cat, then headed for the door. The slippers squeaked all the way out.
The mont the door closed—
Rowan leaned in, voice low.
"We’ll go to the library now. You would have gone anyway. So let’s research about the body strengthening thod first. And when it’s night and Daliah is asleep—we et Luther."
Logan nodded.
"I hope today I find my answers. If cultivation is lost in this era, then why did I feel the presence of spiritual energy, that too from the corpse of an Orc."
User Comments
0 comments from readers