Chapter 5
Lucian passed by Zion and stepped out of the room.
Without a trace of hesitation, he moved forward with small, precise steps. His eyes were sharp and certain, as if he already knew the layout of the mansion.
Yet this child, called “Lucian,” had been in the estate for barely two days.
“Have you finished cleaning here?”
“Tommy, Mosquis wants us in the underground cells.”
As the small boy made his way from the third floor down to the first, he passed countless servants. Not one of them seemed to notice him.
“Meryl, do you think we can finish this inside today?”
“Don’t worry. Just trust me.”
Even when he brushed past Meryl, who held a dust-stained cloth close to her face, there was no flicker of recognition. While others might not know him, Meryl certainly would—but her gaze never moved.
Thanks to that, Lucian glided through the hallways, weaving easily among the people until he reached his destination.
“Is it here?”
He arrived at the far end of the first-floor corridor. Unlike the noisy opposite wing, this side was unusually quiet.
Paintings lined the walls on either side, each draped with a cover. Judging by the dust that had settled on them, even the servants rarely passed this way.
Of course, such things were meaningless to Lucian. What mattered was retracing the fragments of memory, filling in the gaps left by the years gone by.
“…Next time, I’ll invite you to my house. Until then, don’t cry, and if those nasty brats bother you, fight back, okay?”
A gentle voice echoed on the wind, a memory from long ago. Amid the hellish days, that brief fragment from five years past had been a source of strength.
Perhaps that was why, when a knife once again threatened his throat, he recalled that child, that voice, and the words that had comforted him.
His subordinate had asked why he was stepping into such danger on his own, but the answer was clear: the only reason was to see that child again.
The child had once been so kind, but… had truly forgotten him.
Lucian exhaled, recalling yet another fragment of the past.
“The end of the first-floor corridor has portraits of our family. Mother and Father are easy to recognize, but no one recognized me. I cried for a long time that day—I didn’t like how the portrait turned out.”
With a small gesture from Lucian, the cover over one painting slipped to the floor.
As expected, a single portrait revealed itself.
A father and mother, and a child. The child, who had inherited violet eyes from the father and silver hair from the mother, stared straight ahead with red-rimmed eyes.
“So when my sibling is born, we’ll paint a new portrait. Soon, a sibling will arrive, and by the time you visit, you’ll see the new one!”
But unlike the excited voice, only the original portrait remained. There was no sibling, and even the mother Lucian had glimpsed long ago was absent from the mansion.
Puzzled for only a moment, Lucian moved forward, determined to find an answer. At the same time, the cover was replaced over the painting. Dust remained undisturbed, with no marks of anyone’s hand.
Meanwhile, in the first-floor parlor…
Medea sat facing a representative from Lissran Trading. Sophia peeked outside the parlor, keeping a watchful eye on the surroundings.
“The items you ordered have arrived?”
Only after Sophia firmly closed the parlor door did Medea speak. Normally, she would have been guided to her private third-floor parlor, but today’s visit had been sudden. Moving to a different room already prepared for the guest would have seemed odd.
The arrival of the “items” indicated a disruption in the plan; hearing the news was more urgent than relocating.
“Yes, these are the necklaces you ordered last time. Please have a look.”
With that, the man placed each small box on the table. While most made a dull, metallic sound, the final one was completely silent.
Medea read his gaze at once.
“Proceed.”
Inside each opened box, necklaces gleamed in the light. But the last contained not jewelry, but a small note.
[I have contacted you. Come to the secret location.]
Medea handed the note back to the man, who, as if expecting it, took a tiny vial from his coat and poured it over the paper. A small flame flared, and the note turned to ash.
“Then, until next time—”
As he rose to leave, having completed his task, Sophia’s brown eyes widened in surprise.
“Ah! That startled me.”
Her gaze fell upon a child outside the window.
“Miss, it’s Lucian.”
Lucian should have been on the third floor with Zion. How had he come all this way? The parlor and his room were at opposite ends of the mansion. A child wandering alone would surely have been stopped by someone—yet here he was.
Sophia tilted her head, staring at him through the window.
“I’ll escort him inside, and you bring Lucian in.”
“Oh, I’m fine. Is there nothing else to convey?”
The man hurriedly collected his things.
“Tell him I’ll visit soon.”
“Yes, then. I look forward to the next invitation.”
Raising his voice so the servants outside could hear, the man left quickly.
“Miss, I’ll go get Lucian.”
Sophia rose to follow.
A short while later, Sophia returned with Lucian.
“Lucian, how did you get all the way here?”
“I came out to look around… and got lost,” Lucian replied, his face downcast, echoing the same expression he’d worn when he had begged not to return.
“Is that so? Sophia, is anyone outside?”
Though he had made it this far by luck, the path back would be complicated for a child.
“Emma’s here… I’ll escort him. Better someone familiar, since it’s already so strange for him.”
Sophia had been the one to carry Lucian from the underground cell, her gentle eyes meeting his. Yet, perhaps because of those same eyes, Lucian’s expression darkened further.
The truth was, he had only been disappointed that the person he hoped for had not been kind.
“No, you go fetch Meryl. I think he needs to visit ‘that place’.”
Medea nodded toward the ash on the table. Sophia understood and agreed, heading out.
For a brief moment, Medea and Lucian were alone.
“Miss, may I ask you something?”
“Yes.”
Lucian lifted his head, meeting Medea’s gaze.
“Have you ever gotten lost, like I did?”
“Hm… no.”
Her answer came after a brief pause, calm and unembellished.
“…You know, every time I got lost in the palace, you appeared like a savior.”
No matter how many times he replayed it, he knew he hadn’t imagined it. And yet, Medea’s expression did not seem deceitful.
“Then, let’s go.”
The answer had come from an unexpectedly simple place.
The maid who had been tasked with escorting Lucian was older, seasoned with years of experience in the mansion.
“You were always so bright and kind, Miss.”
“Yes, so kind that even this old woman was moved.”
At Lucian’s question, the maid’s lips moved as if enchanted.
“But why did you change?”
Medea was composed in all things, rarely smiling. It was as if she had locked away all her emotions.
“After Lady left this mansion… maybe from the shock, she forgot much of the past, and her personality changed completely…”
The maid suddenly covered her mouth, realizing her slip.
“Child, forget what you just heard, don’t repeat it anywhere. Understand?”
“Yes,” Lucian nodded with a faint smile. He truly intended to forget.
As long as the memories with him were not painful, anything else didn’t matter. He could overlay the faint memories with his own, as Lucian.
But relief was fleeting. The heavy fate that refused to yield would soon separate them once more.
