A shrill wail pierced the thin walls, shattering the night's peace. Vel groaned, dragging a pillow over his face as the faint moonlight bathed his room.
"Again... Lyra?" he muttered, voice muffled.
He tossed the pillow aside, sitting up with a sigh. The baby's room was just down the narrow hallway—previously Landre's room, but she barely stayed here anymore. Saint duties had whisked her away, first to Lona, then all over Iz'mir. Vel couldn't remember the last time she'd stayed for more than a week.
The crying continued, relentless. Vel ruffled his hair in frustration. Lack of sleep had turned his thoughts sluggish, his annoyance growing as he wondered how his parents—at their age—could muster the energy for another child two years ago. Having a toddler for a sibling was so far removed from anything in his past life.
His feet met the cool wooden floor as he shuffled to the door. Stepping into the hallway, he saw dim light escaping through the crack of Lyra's door. It creaked slightly as he pushed it open.
There she was—tiny fists flailing, face scrunched, and flushed cheeks as she kicked in her crib. Vel approached cautiously, feeling out of his depth as her cries grew louder.
"Alright, little monster," he huffed, leaning over the crib. "What's the matter now? Hungry? Lost your favorite blanket? Or just out to ruin my sleep?"
Nothing but wailing in response. Not that he expected an answer.
Vel awkwardly lifted her, with less finesse than he would a sword. Lyra squirmed, her little hands grabbing at his tunic, tears still rolling down her face.
"There, there..." he murmured, rocking her with as much effort as he could muster through his fatigue.
With time—and no small effort—her cries softened to sniffles, then hiccups, until finally her tiny head rested against his shoulder. Vel let out a small laugh.
"You're lucky I'm leaving soon," he whispered, continuing his slow circuit around the room. "Otherwise, you'd have to deal with your big brother's wrath, little one."
Vel looked down at Lyra, her tiny face relaxing against his shoulder. Four years gone by so fast... He had once been a carefree child, lost in the joy of simple things, but now the weight of responsibility began to creep in, much like Giri's past life. The slow march into adulthood all over again.
He shifted Lyra against his shoulder, her soft breath warming his neck. He paced the room gently, listening to the soft sounds of night.
In the past four years, he had taken every opportunity to prepare himself. He practiced his magic daily, expanding his mana pool until it brimmed with energy. He even unlocked a sword art skill, one he dared not reveal to anyone—especially not Celia.
"I can't let her think it's easy for me," he mused. "She's working so hard to improve. I don't want to discourage her."
His special privileges from the Admin status blurred the lines of fairness in this world. The ease with which he learned and acquired skills still baffled him. Why he retained this power was a mystery, yet he often found himself grateful for it.
As he settled deeper into thought, an intrusive notion wormed its way into his mind. If only he could cast a sleep spell, one simple incantation to lull Lyra into a peaceful slumber.
His gaze wandered to the crib, the way Lyra's tiny fists clenched and relaxed, each movement instinctive yet so frustratingly uncoordinated.
"How hard could it be?" he wondered. "Just a little sleep spell... but no, that wouldn't be right. She needs to learn how to soothe herself naturally."
The soft creak of floorboards and the whisper of bare feet against wood broke his contemplation. Just then, Mari appeared in the doorway, her hair slightly tousled from sleep.
"Vel? You're awake?" she inquired, her voice gentle and a bit drowsy.
Vel turned, his heart lifting at her presence.
"Just trying to soothe her," he said, adjusting Lyra slightly in his hold.
Mari moved closer, her gaze shifting to the baby.
"Seems like you're quite occupied," she remarked, a faint smile breaking through.
Vel shrugged, a soft chuckle escaping him.
"It's nothing I can't manage."
"Guess I'm a middle child now," he joked, feigning exasperation as she carried the baby back to the crib.
Mari glanced back at him, amusement dancing in her tired eyes.
"You know I still love you, Vel. But she needs me more right now," she said softly, settling Lyra into the crib with practiced movements.
The baby stirred briefly before her breathing steadied. Mari's fingers lingered on the blanket's edge, smoothing it one final time.
"She's lucky to have such a caring big brother," Mari added, watching as Lyra's tiny fist uncurled against her cheek.
"Yeah, I know, Mom," Vel replied, moving closer to Mari. He wrapped his arms around her from behind and pressed his chin on her shoulder, feeling the familiar comfort of her presence.
Having a second mother after reincarnation felt strange at first. Giri's consciousness had wrestled with the concept, but Vel's instincts recognized the truth—she would protect him with her life.
The silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken thoughts. Maybe they were all feeling Landre's absence. She rarely came home anymore, swept away by her duties as a Saint. The realization hit him—soon, he would leave this house too. Halen had sent invitations for a farewell party to celebrate his departure for the Academy in Lona. Excitement and dread wrestled in his chest.
Mari turned slightly, her expression softening.
"Are you ready for the party?" she asked, her voice laced with a blend of curiosity and concern.
Vel hesitated. The excitement of the Academy loomed large in his mind, but the thought of saying goodbye tugged at his heart.
"I mean... it's just a party, right?" he said, trying to sound nonchalant.
But deep down, he felt the weight of leaving home, of stepping into a world that would test him in ways he couldn't yet understand.
He noticed Mari's gaze shift away, as if sensing the turmoil swirling inside him. Vel could almost feel the unspoken words hanging in the air.
"It's going to be okay," Mari said softly, as if reading his thoughts.
Vel nodded, but uncertainty lingered. With a gentle squeeze, he released his embrace and excused himself back to his room.
Next morning, at the breakfast table. Vel's gaze drifting over the spread of meat and eggs before him. The savory scent filled the air, yet his thoughts occupied a different space.
"You're going to need a new suit," Von declared, breaking through Vel's contemplation.
Vel blinked, a lump forming in his throat. The idea of being dressed up for a party seemed extravagant, and the notion of letting his parents buy something for him felt wrong.
"They said it's a party, but formally, it's a ceremony," Von continued, glancing between Vel and Mari. "Both you and Celia will need something nice."
Vel shifted in his seat, his hands fidgeting with the edge of the tablecloth. He had saved up small amounts of money from odd jobs around town, determined to be independent. He didn't know how much generosity Lady Halen would extend to him, and relying on his parents felt like a step backward.
"I can pay for it," he offered, his voice barely above a whisper.
Von shook his head, a stern look on his face. "No, not for this occasion. It's important to present yourselves well."
Vel sighed, the weight of responsibility pressing down. He felt anxious about the upcoming Academy entrance test and how he might perform. Failing would sting, especially in a new suit.
"Let's go to the tailor today. You go tell Celia," Von instructed, pushing his plate away as he stood.
Vel stepped through the worn wooden door of the orphanage, greeted by the familiar scent of books and the soft murmur of children's laughter. The common room bustled with activity as kids gathered around Celia, who read animatedly from a colorful storybook. Her voice flowed like music, captivating their wide-eyed attention.
"Good morning, Vel," Celia said, her face lighting up as she spotted him.
Vel offered a shy smile, his heart tugging at the sight of her radiant spirit.
He wondered if Celia felt the same knot of anxiety he did. In just a few days, she would leave the orphanage for good. He had his family to support him if things went sideways, but for Celia, failure meant more than just disappointment—it meant uncertainty.
"What brings you here this early?" she asked, tilting her head, her curiosity piqued.
Vel hesitated, then blurted out, "You wouldn't guess it. My father said I need a new suit, and you too. We're going to the tailor today."
"Suit?" she echoed, surprise flickering in her eyes.
Vel nodded, feeling a mix of excitement and dread. "For the party, at Lady Halen's estate."
Before she could respond, one of the younger children piped up, "Are you and Vel a...'couple', Celia?" The room erupted in giggles, and Celia's cheeks flushed a bright red.
"No! We're just…friends"
Celia fumbled over her words, her embarrassment only fueling the laughter. Vel's heart raced at the innocent mix-up, an amused grin breaking through his tension.
Vel observed the other children, their laughter ringing through the common room, but Celia's expression shifted. She bit her lip, glancing towards the door.
"Can we talk somewhere else?" she asked, her voice low.
He nodded, sensing the weight behind her request.
The noise of the children faded as they walked toward a small grove nearby, the rustling leaves creating a tranquil backdrop.
Once they settled beneath the shade of a tree, Celia hesitated.
"I haven't told them yet," she finally said, her gaze fixed on the ground.
"Told them what?" Vel prompted, puzzled.
Her brow furrowed, and she took a breath. "About leaving the orphanage. About the Academy."
Vel's heart sank. He felt the tension in her voice, the anxiety that lay beneath the surface.
"I feel bad too, you know," he admitted, guilt creeping in as he thought of his own family.
"Leaving your family?" Celia asked, eyes widening.
He nodded, the weight of his words pressing down on him. "Yeah. Von, Mari, even Lyra… I guess everything has a price."
Celia's expression softened, a shared understanding passing between them.
"It's like we're both moving on, but… it doesn't feel right, does it?" she mused, looking into the distance.
Vel clenched his fists, frustration bubbling just beneath the surface. He had longed for adventure, yet the thought of leaving the warmth of his family behind twisted something deep within him.
"I'll miss this place," he confessed.
Vel straightened his back, pushing aside the melancholy that threatened to overwhelm him. The rustling leaves above seemed to whisper encouragement as he turned to face Celia.
"It's no use looking back now," he said, his voice gaining strength. "We've prepared ourselves for the Academy. We need to push forward."
The morning sunlight filtered through the branches, casting dappled shadows across Celia's face as she absorbed his words.
"Don't worry," Vel continued, offering a reassuring smile. "On the bright side, you won't be alone at the Academy."
Something flickered in Celia's expression – a mix of relief and another emotion she tried to conceal. Her fingers played with her sleeve as she processed the thought of having Vel by her side throughout their journey.
"Yeah," she agreed, her voice soft but steady. "We'll get through it."
Vel stood up, brushing off his pants before extending his hand to help her up. "Now, let's go get you some new dress."
The tension in Celia's shoulders eased as she accepted his hand, rising to her feet with renewed determination in her steps.
Vel tugged at the collar of his formal suit, the deep blue fabric stiff against his skin. The small chain at his chest caught the light as he shifted before the mirror. Four years in Elnor, and he still wasn't used to wearing anything this elaborate.
His fingers traced the air, summoning the interface with practiced reluctance.
MP: 547
The numbers glowed faintly in his peripheral vision. He dismissed the window with a quick gesture—looking at those artificial displays always reminded him how constructed this world was, no matter how real it felt.
The mana pool had grown considerably since his first clumsy attempts at Ice Lance. That spell had become his template for everything else—once he understood the sigil patterns, swapping elemental properties was just a matter of rearranging the components. Fire projectiles, earth spears, wind blades—all variations on the same foundation.
His sword work had progressed too. Von's relentless drilling had pushed Air Cutter to first-tier mastery, though Vel found himself losing interest in pursuing higher levels. Another offensive technique felt redundant when he could achieve similar results with spellwork.
What frustrated him most was the gap in his knowledge—no appraisal magic, no way to properly analyze the people around him. The sigils he'd memorized offered no hints toward unlocking that function. It was like trying to code without access to the documentation.
"Are you ready, Vel?" Mari called from the kitchen.
He straightened his jacket one final time.
"What about Lyra?"
"Miss Oltan will watch her. Don't worry."
Vel's pulse quickened. Today would change everything, yet standing here in this borrowed finery, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was still just playing a role.
Vel stepped out of the house, evening light painting Elnor's cobblestones gold. Von and Mari walked ahead in their formal clothes, carrying themselves with quiet dignity. Pride warmed his chest, though uncertainty gnawed at him.
A polished black carriage waited at the street's edge, Lady Halen's crest gleaming on its door. A servant bowed as they approached.
Celia emerged from the shadows, transformed. Her usual dark training clothes were gone, replaced by flowing white silk that caught the dying light. She moved differently—chin up, shoulders back.
"You look great today," Vel said before he could stop himself.
She tilted her head, lips quirking upward. "Just today?"
His face heated. This wasn't the girl who'd cried over Clara's news. Something had shifted in her—confidence where doubt used to live. He'd always seen her as his training partner, but…
"It's a shame Landre can't be here," Mari said, glancing at the empty space beside them.
The carriage's interior surprised him—polished wood and velvet cushions far grander than its modest exterior suggested. He settled beside Celia, their formal clothes rustling together. Lavender drifted from her direction, making him hyperaware of the narrow space between them.
Von and Mari sat across from them, exchanging glances that made Vel's skin crawl. His father's eyes gleamed with barely contained amusement while his mother hid a grin behind her hand.
"The carriage is quite comfortable," Mari said, voice dancing with mischief. "Perfect for young couples—I mean, perfect for the journey."
Heat crawled up Vel's neck. He shot her a look that screamed 'stop,' but it only widened her smile.
"Indeed," Von rumbled, unusual warmth in his gruff tone. "You two look quite... matching."
Celia shifted beside him, their shoulders brushing. The contact jolted through his spine, making his parents' knowing looks unbearable.
"Father..." he muttered, wanting to disappear into the velvet cushions.
The carriage lurched forward. Celia grabbed his arm for balance, her fingers warm through his sleeve. Von and Mari's smiles grew impossibly wider.
This would be a very long ride.
The carriage rolled to a halt in front of Lady Halen's estate, a grand building that stood proudly amid a sprawling garden bursting with vibrant blooms. The evening sun cast a golden hue over everything, illuminating the flowers in their final display of the day. Vel stepped down from the carriage, his pulse quickening, unsure of what to expect.
He took in the sight of the entrance, adorned with garlands of blossoms and flanked by impeccably dressed maids and butlers who greeted them with polite nods and warm smiles. The atmosphere felt festive, almost too extravagant for a mere farewell party.
"This seems a bit much for a goodbye, doesn't it?" Vel murmured, glancing at Celia beside him.
She nodded, her expression thoughtful. "Yeah, it feels more like a celebration than a farewell."
Vel felt a twinge of unease. He had known Lady Halen for four years, and her benevolence often masked political intentions. She didn't act without reason, and this lavish setup likely served a purpose beyond merely sending him and Celia off.
His parents followed suit, exchanging glances that hinted at shared concerns. Von stood tall, his demeanor more serious than usual, while Mari's smile faltered slightly as she observed the surroundings.
A few more carriages lined the driveway, one bearing the Adventurers' Guild emblem. Vel's pulse quickened at the sight.
"Looks like Graham's arrived," he pointed out, trying to mask his apprehension.
Celia's gaze darted toward the carriage, a glimmer of excitement sparkling in her eyes. "I hope he doesn't make a big fuss over me."
"Too late for that," Vel said, forcing a chuckle.
Vel followed the servants through the estate's main entrance, his footsteps muffled by plush carpeting. The interior's grandeur surpassed even his expectations - crystal chandeliers cast dancing lights across marble floors, and ornate tapestries adorned walls that stretched toward high ceilings.
The servants guided them down a corridor lined with portraits of past lords and ladies. Each face seemed to watch their progress with painted eyes that held secrets of centuries past.
"This place is incredible," Celia whispered beside him, her voice filled with wonder.
Another set of doors opened before them, revealing a ballroom that took Vel's breath away. Red carpeting spread across the floor like spilled wine, while round tables draped in white linens dotted the space. Servants bustled about, some carrying trays of glasses while others adjusted flower arrangements with practiced precision.
Vel's gaze drew to the raised platform at the far end of the room. Its elevation commanded attention, clearly designed for announcements and speeches. The setup reminded him of formal events from his past life - gatherings where every detail carried meaning.
Mari squeezed his shoulder gently. "Are you alright? You look pale."
"I'm fine, Mom," Vel assured her.
A servant in crisp formal wear approached their group with a practiced bow. "I will go alert Lady Halen of your presence." He turned with fluid grace and disappeared through a side door.
Von shifted his weight, adjusting his collar. "Remember your manners," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.
Vel nodded absently, his attention caught by the growing number of guests filtering into the room. Each arrival sparked whispers and movement among the waiting servants, like ripples in a still pond.
The ballroom filled with chatter as more guests arrived. Movement from above caught Vel's attention—Lady Halen emerged from the upper floor, her silver hair gleaming under the chandeliers. She walked along the balcony with practiced grace, her black headband catching the light like a crown.
Graham stood behind her alongside two well-dressed men. Their rich fabrics and calculating expressions marked them as merchants, though their presence puzzled Vel.
Lady Halen descended the grand staircase with measured steps, approaching their family with a warm but reserved smile.
"Von, Mari," she greeted them with a slight nod. "I trust the journey was comfortable?"
She turned to Vel and Celia. "And here are our guests of honor. The young talents who will represent Elnor at the Academy."
"Thank you for hosting us... Lady Halen," Vel said, remembering his manners just in time.
Her eyes sparkled with amusement at his delayed formality. "There are some people I'd like to introduce you to," she glanced at the merchants still conversing with Graham above, "but that can wait. First, we should properly begin this evening's festivities."
Lady Halen moved toward a raised platform at the ballroom's far end. Her steps echoed across the polished marble as conversations died down. She reached for an ornate silver bell on a delicate pedestal.
The clear chime cut through the remaining murmurs. Heads turned and bodies shifted, all eyes drawn to Lady Halen's commanding presence. Even the merchants above paused their discussion.
"Honored guests," her voice carried effortlessly across the silent room, "tonight we celebrate not just two promising young talents, but the future of Elnor itself."
She gestured toward Vel and Celia with an elegant sweep of her hand. "In times of change, we must nurture those who show potential. The Academy has long been the crucible where raw talent is refined into true capability."
Vel felt the weight of dozens of stares. Beside him, Celia straightened her posture, though he noticed her fingers fidgeting with the fabric of her dress.
"These two will not only chase their own ambitions—but bear the honor and future of Elnor itself," Lady Halen declared. Her gaze swept across the room. "Their success is our success. Their strength, our strength. Let us toast to Elnor's rising stars."
This wasn't about him or Celia, Vel thought. It was about Elnor's claim over them. Whatever he achieved at the Academy, it would always circle back to Lady Halen.
Lady Halen paused, noticing the skeptical glances exchanged among her guests. Her smile never faltered as she addressed the undercurrent of doubt directly.
"I see some hesitation in your faces," she said, her voice carrying a hint of challenge. "Despite their young age, these two have shown remarkable potential that warrants our investment."
She turned toward Vel and Celia with an expectant look. "Perhaps you don't believe until you witness with your own eyes? Shall we remove any doubt by letting our guests of honor demonstrate their abilities?"
"Velarian, Celia—please, join me," Lady Halen extended her hand toward the elevated marble platform draped with ornate carpet.
Vel exchanged a quick glance with Celia. Her eyes reflected the same reluctance he felt, but they both knew refusal wasn't an option. Together, they stepped forward through the parting crowd.
The platform felt exposed, like being placed on display. Graham approached, drawing his sword and presenting it hilt-first to Celia.
"For those unfamiliar with their accomplishments," Lady Halen announced, "Velarian is gifted with magical potential despite not being of mage descent, while Celia possesses exceptional talent in swordsmanship that rivals those twice her age."
So that's how much of a show this 'party' is about, Vel thought bitterly. Everyone expecting something in return for their 'generosity'.
He caught his father's eye in the crowd. Von gave an almost imperceptible nod of encouragement.
Fine. If they wanted magic, he'd give them magic.
Vel whispered an incantation under his breath, focusing his concentration. "Feryis Minorem." Ice coalesced around his hand, crystallizing and focusing around his fingertip. With deliberate showmanship, he touched a nearby glass of wine. The liquid hardened instantly, freezing solid in seconds.
Murmurs rippled through the crowd—exactly the reaction Lady Halen had wanted. Despite his annoyance at being displayed like a curiosity, Vel couldn't help noticing the unmistakable pride in Von and Mari's faces.
Celia hesitated beside him, then stepped forward with Graham's sword. After a moment's pause, she flourished the thin blade and shifted into a stance Vel recognized from their countless practice sessions. Tiny sparks of lightning flickered along the metal's edge, dancing like fireflies.
The crowd made the same appreciative noise they'd given Vel's demonstration, with several nobles leaning forward in genuine interest.
Lady Halen's smile widened. Her gambit had worked perfectly.
She graciously excused Vel and Celia, guiding them back to their previous position near Von and Mari. With practiced elegance, she raised her crystal glass.
"To the Novalance family, whose courage has strengthened Elnor," she proclaimed. "To Clara Freznoria's legacy, carried forward by her sister." Her gaze softened as it fell on Celia. "And to the future of Elnor, embodied in these promising youth."
The crowd echoed her sentiment, glasses tilting skyward in unison. Vel noticed how his mother beamed with pride while his father maintained a more reserved smile.
As conversations resumed around them, Lady Halen approached with the two merchants trailing behind her. Their expensive clothing looked oddly out of place among Elnor's simpler aristocracy.
"Allow me to introduce Nema and Khaz," Lady Halen said. "They oversee a prominent merchant branch in Lona."
Vel's mind raced. Merchants from Lona attending a small celebration in Elnor? Something didn't add up.
"These generous gentlemen have offered to provide you both with lodging during your time at the Academy," Lady Halen continued. "This would significantly reduce your monthly expenses."
Vel fought to keep his expression neutral while alarm bells rang in his head. Nobody offered something for nothing—especially not merchants.
Kindness had nothing to do with it, Vel realized. This was about control - financial leverage disguised as charity. Just as in his old world, they would hold power over him through this "generosity."
"I appreciate the offer," Vel said, keeping his voice neutral. "But I'd prefer to stay in the Academy dorms."
Nema stepped forward, his silk robes rustling. A practiced smile spread across his face as he raised his hands in a placating gesture.
"Now, now, young master Velarian. Such decisions shouldn't be made hastily," his voice carried the smooth confidence of someone used to negotiating deals. "Consider the practical benefits - our residence sits mere blocks from the Academy grounds. The time saved on commuting alone could be better spent on your studies."
Vel noticed how Nema's eyes flickered between him and Lady Halen, gauging reactions.
"The dorms can be quite... restrictive," Nema continued, adjusting his ornate rings. "Our accommodations include private study spaces, a fully stocked library, and dedicated servants to handle your daily needs. Think of how much more you could accomplish without such mundane distractions."
He turned to Celia, his smile widening. "And for the young lady, we maintain separate wings with the highest standards of security and comfort. No sharing facilities with strangers, no need to worry about lost belongings."
"The cost savings are substantial," Khaz added, his voice carrying the sharp edge of a merchant's practicality. "Room and board at the Academy consumes nearly half a student's expenses. Our offer would free up those funds for additional tutoring, better equipment, rare books..."
Vel felt Celia shift beside him, clearly tempted by the proposal. The merchants had done their research - they knew exactly which buttons to push, which concerns to address.
"We've housed many promising students over the years," Nema said, his tone growing confidential. "Many who now hold positions of influence throughout the kingdom. The connections you could forge under our roof... well, they could prove invaluable to your future careers."
Vel studied Celia's expression, noting the subtle signs of interest in her eyes. For someone leaving the orphanage, the promise of a stable home and financial security must have felt like a lifeline. His instincts screamed that there had to be hidden strings attached to such generosity, but he couldn't deny the practical benefits for Celia.
She met his gaze, a mix of hope and uncertainty in her features. Her fingers twisted the fabric of her dress.
"The offer is... very generous," Celia said, her voice soft but eager. "Having access to a private library would help with studies..."
Vel held back a grimace. He couldn't let Celia walk into whatever scheme these merchants had planned alone. The thought of her isolated in their residence, subject to who knew what pressures or manipulation...
"If Celia accepts," Vel said, measuring each word carefully, "then I'll consider it as well."
Nema's smile widened fractionally - too quick, too pleased. "Excellent! We can discuss the details-"
"But," Vel cut in, "I'd need to see the residence first. And review any contracts or conditions thoroughly."
Khaz's eyes narrowed slightly at Vel's interruption, but Nema maintained his pleasant demeanor. "Of course, of course! We wouldn't expect anything less from such promising students. Perhaps we could arrange a tour next week?"
Celia's shoulders relaxed, relief evident in her posture. She shot Vel a grateful look, understanding blooming in her expression. Whatever came next, they would face it together.
"That would be acceptable," Vel replied, already planning how to scrutinize every aspect of this arrangement. He might not be able to avoid the merchants' scheme entirely, but he could at least try to protect Celia from the worst of it.
Lady Halen's smile carried the satisfaction of a perfectly executed plan as the merchants concluded their arrangement with Celia and Vel.
"Before you go," Lady Halen added, "you should walk around, greet some of the other guests. You never know when these connections might prove useful."
Vel sighed inwardly. The situation reeked of manipulation, yet the opportunity was too valuable to dismiss. They'd have to play along and see how things developed.
He guided Celia back to Von and Mari at their assigned table. Servants appeared with artfully arranged plates of roasted meat and vegetables, providing a welcome distraction.
"The merchants seemed quite interested in you two," Mari observed, cutting into her meat.
"They offered us lodging in Lona," Celia explained between bites.
Von's expression tightened but he kept his voice neutral. "Generous of them."
As the meal progressed, a young man in expensive clothing approached their table. He bowed slightly to Celia, speaking in tones too low for Vel to catch. Celia's cheeks colored slightly as she listened.
Before Vel could attempt to hear their conversation, Lady Halen appeared at his shoulder.
"I have another surprise for you," she said, drawing him away from the table. Her grip on his arm was gentle but insistent. "I heard that you like to learn about this world and its history. There's someone I'd like you to meet later."
She steered him toward a quieter corner of the ballroom. "But first, I insist you stay the night here at the manor. I've had rooms prepared."
Her tone left little room for refusal. Vel recognized, declining would appear ungrateful after everything she'd done for him. Whatever her motives, she clearly had more planned for this evening.