I returned to the barn where Lyall was waiting, standing with his arms crossed, his expression unreadable. The three kidnappers knelt before him, their bodies battered beyond recognition. One of them clutched his arm, which was twisted at a grotesque angle, while the other two coughed up blood, their faces swollen and bruised. The scent of iron and sweat filled the confined space.
I approached them slowly, crouching to their eye level. My presence alone sent a sharp chill through the air, the temperature plumting as a suffocating stillness settled over the barn. The n flinched, their instincts screaming at them to move away, but Lyall’s looming figure blocked their escape.
"L-Let us go, please!" one of them whimpered, voice trembling.
"W-We are only re thieves," another pleaded.
"D-Don’t kill us, please!"
Their frantic begging filled the silence, their bodies quaking. I tilted my head, watching them as if they were insects pinned beneath my gaze. My lips curved into a slow, almost amused smile, but the ice in my eyes never thawed.
"I would have let you live," I said, my voice quiet yet carrying the weight of finality. "But the children you dared to lay your hands on... They are special to . Tell , how do you expect to let you go unscathed?"
Their whimpers turned into desperate, frantic cries. They twisted where they knelt, trying to press their foreheads to the ground in submission, but fear had locked their limbs in place.
"What were you planning to do with them?" I asked, my tone indifferent to their anguish.
"We-We only wanted to steal their accessories and leave!" one of them shouted in desperation.
I humd, considering his words. "If that were true, then why did they have bruises on their bodies?"
"We-We... Th-They fought back, s-so..."
I let out a slow breath, studying my hand. My fingers curled, the familiar sensation of power stirring beneath my skin. "Do you know their age?"
Their horrified silence was answer enough.
"Four years..." I spoke.
Azure scales shimred into existence, spreading from my wrist to my palm, their crystalline sheen reflecting the dim light of the barn. My nails elongated, darkening into obsidian claws that glead with deadly sharpness. The kidnappers’ faces drained of color, their bodies stiffening as they stared at my transford limb.
"Y-You..." One of them gasped, eyes darting wildly between my hand and my face.
"I’m the sa Dragon who was here four years ago," I murmured, letting the weight of my words sink in. "And those children... I’m their godfather of sorts. So, tell , what do you think is going to happen to you?"
They didn’t answer. They couldn’t.
Minutes later, I stepped out of the barn, thodically wiping my bloodstained hands with a kerchief. The warm, sticky sensation clung to my skin, the scent of iron thick in the air. Behind , Lyall exited, his expression as impassive as ever, though I knew he had been watching carefully.
We walked through the slums, the narrow streets bustling with people who quickly parted to let us through. Lyall’s presence alone was enough to command respect—after all, he was the one who had gained control over this area. Yet, it was the lingering scent of blood clinging to that made them avert their eyes.
Familiar faces at the inn recognized Lyall imdiately. So nodded in acknowledgnt, others kept their distance. We moved without pause, checking our intel sources, confirming details, ensuring no loose ends remained.
As we made our way back, I finally spoke. "I t Angelina on my way when I was returning the kids."
Lyall glanced at , waiting for elaboration.
"Angelina Lockwood. Wife of Marquis Gareth Lockwood and sister of Asher Lewinstein."
He halted abruptly, his sharp gaze locking onto . I stopped after a few steps, turning back to et his questioning eyes.
"You recognized them right away?" he asked.
I smirked. "Why wouldn’t I? I was there when they were born," I said, raising my hand slightly watching the power swirl underneath the false skin. "I healed her when she was dying with those two inside her."
Lyall’s jaw tightened slightly. He pressed his lips together, his sharp mind working through the implications before he finally asked, "Are you going to tell them that Asher is with you?"
"If the need arises," I answered with a shrug.
He fell silent for a mont, then sighed. "I still don’t understand why you’re keeping him around, Master. Normally, you wouldn’t hesitate to eliminate anyone who poses even the slightest threat to your people. But you’ve let him stay by your side for over four years now."
I exhaled slowly. I understood his frustration, but it wasn’t sothing I could explain—not in a way he would accept.
"Is it because you feel guilty for playing with his feelings?" Lyall asked.
I halted, my gaze flicking toward him. He studied my face intently, as if trying to decipher sothing unspoken. Then, after a mont, he stepped closer.
"If you can’t do it..." he began, letting the offer hang in the air.
I sighed. "Don’t, Lyall. Rose is in love with him. We can’t do anything to him." My voice was firm, but not unkind. "Besides, he’s on my side. I’ll keep him there until I have a strong enough reason to get rid of him."
Lyall’s displeasure was evident, but he didn’t push further. We resud walking, the unspoken tension between us settling like a thin layer of frost in the night air.
After a while, we got onto a carriage, but instead of heading to Lancaster Mansion, our destination was Lockwood Mansion.
Lyall cast a questioning glance, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied . I didn’t keep him in suspense for long.
"Angelina invited over for dinner," I told him casually, adjusting the cuff of my coat.
"They know that I’m Mirielle’s husband."
Lyall cocked a brow, the skepticism evident on his face.
"I told her back then that I was engaged to a man nad Ace D’Arc, a rchant."
His expression barely changed as he asked, "And what if they ask to et her?"
I shrugged. "I’ve told them she’s not here."
"That’s not going to stop them."
I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "I’ll handle it. Don’t worry."
The rest of the carriage ride passed in relative silence, save for the soft sound of hooves against the cobblestone streets. The city gradually thinned out, giving way to the sprawling estate of the Lockwoods. Their mansion was quite grand befitting the Marquis’ title—tall marble pillars, intricate carvings on the stone walls, and golden lanterns flickering in the twilight.
As soon as we arrived, an elderly butler, dressed immaculately in a tailored suit, greeted us at the entrance. He bowed deeply, his voice calm and refined.
"Lord Ace, welco to Lockwood Mansion. The Marchioness and her family have been expecting you."
Lyall walked behind as we entered the vast foyer, where the opulence of the Lockwood estate was on full display. The chandeliers overhead bathed the room in golden light, reflecting off the polished floors and elaborate wall tapestries.
Before I could take another step, Angelina rushed forward, her smile wide and warm.
"Lord Ace! Welco!"
I returned her smile and took her hand gently, pressing a polite kiss to her knuckles.
"It’s an honor to see you again, my lady."
Behind her, Marquis Gareth Lockwood approached, his presence as commanding as ever. We exchanged pleasantries before the butler guided Lyall and to separate guest rooms so we could freshen up before dinner.
After changing into the clothes provided for —an elegant yet modest attire befitting a noble guest—I followed a maid to the grand dining hall.
Upon entering, I quickly noticed that this was no small family gathering. The long mahogany table was surrounded by familiar faces, including Alan and, to my slight surprise, Count Lewinstein.
As soon as Angelina introduced us, Alan and the Count lit up with excitent.
"So, how is Lady Mirielle?" Alan asked as we settled into our seats.
I offered a relaxed smile. "She is well. We had our son two years ago."
Lyall choked on his soup. I barely refrained from rolling my eyes as I slid a glass of water toward him.
"A son! That’s splendid news!" Count Lewinstein exclaid.
"Truly wonderful!" Alan bead.
Angelina, seated across from , leaned forward slightly, concern and curiosity gleaming in her eyes. "Was she well? I hope there weren’t any complications during her pregnancy."
I held my smile effortlessly. "None at all. She and our son are both healthy and thriving." The lie rolled off my tongue with practiced ease.
"He looks exactly like her—radiant blue hair, the sa srizing eyes."
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Lyall had gone completely still, seemingly choosing to ignore my improvisation rather than react further.
"That’s wonderful to hear," Gareth said, nodding approvingly.
Lucius who seed to have grown relaxed around us asked, "Lord Ace, what is your son’s na?"
I barely hesitated. "I’ve nad him Kai."
Lucius chuckled. "Kai? That’s a strong na! I like it."
I smiled as I studied them, they seed happy now but there was a missing piece whom they seed to have very conveniently forgotten.
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