"I have a surprise for you!"
Hearing the excitement in his mother’s voice, Kael remained silent for a moment. Then, his gaze softened slightly.
"...I’ll wait for it, Mother."
That was all he said, without altering the usual calmness of his tone.
Alessia kept smiling. She didn’t add anything else. She had learned not to expect unnecessary words from her son. However, she understood the nuances behind his silence.
She turned elegantly and left the room, followed by her servant.
Kael watched her figure disappear, his expression returning to its usual indifference. Only with his mother did he let his guard down, if only for a moment.
Lydia, who witnessed the scene with surprise, had never seen Kael adopt that expression since the blue three-horned horse struck him.
Without saying a word, she began to dress him professionally; each of her movements was fluid and precise as she checked his strengthened body.
After a few minutes, Kael was fully dressed: he wore a black and white shirt with the Medici Clan emblem on the left side of his chest, black pants, and black leather shoes.
His black hair, tied back in a simple ponytail, contrasted with his preference for wearing it loose. But habit outweighed preference.
The sky outside the window darkened like the jaws of a hungry wolf, the clouds dragging heavily as the snow fell in silent spirals, covering the mountain with a white blanket.
Not long after, night fell.
Kael left the room, accompanied by Lydia, who had remained silent. Outside, Eren was already waiting, albeit with new bandages.
They made their way through the corridors, polished to a shine under the bluish glow of the moonlight, stones, oval gems, as big as fists, floating in golden lamps, casting flashes of silver and indigo on the walls.
The servants bowed as Kael passed by, their heads bowed, their hands busy with never-ending tasks. But their eyes were fixed on him, fleeting and calculating. Everyone knew that the seventh young master was no longer the same as before.
After a few minutes, they arrived at the main hall, where Kael’s other brothers were reading or studying. Their mothers were there too.
Kael scanned the room with a brief, cold glance. He didn’t take long to make up his mind: if he was going to follow the path of the Zu, it wouldn’t be like the fools who throw themselves into the abyss on impulse. Ignorance was weakness, and weakness was unacceptable.
As he made his way to the library, an elderly man dressed as a butler, with gray hair and blue eyes, approached him. His fine features gave him a mature air.
Kael recognized him immediately: he was his father’s butler, Jack, a rank 7 Zu Master, who in his youth was known in the Northern Frontier as "Jack the Destroyer."
Jack bowed slightly and said respectfully, "Young Master Kael, your father has sent for you."
Faster than he expected. Kael looked at him for a few seconds before speaking in a neutral voice, "My father?"
"That’s right, young master. Please follow me." Jack stood up, a professional smile spreading across his face.
Kael remained silent. Then he gave a slight nod to Lydia and Eren, who understood immediately.
Jack turned and began to lead the way. Kael followed him.
As they made their way toward Zephyr, the patriarch of the Medici Clan, the mansion seemed to hold its breath. As they crossed the main hall, a suspenseful silence fell over those present, followed by stares that pierced them.
Butler Jack, whose presence was synonymous with the patriarch’s shadow, strode forward, guiding someone unexpected: Kael, the seventh son, the same one who, until a few months ago, had been the object of ridicule and contempt.
Among the wives, young masters, and ladies of the family, murmurs erupted like sparks of gunpowder, mixing envy, disbelief, and resentment.
"Since when does butler Jack act as escort to the despised Kael?" whispered one of the brothers, clenching his fists until his knuckles turned white.
"Damn it! Another privilege just because of that damn S-rank talent?" another snorted, biting his lip to hide the hatred boiling inside him.
One of the wives, stroking her son’s shoulder with feigned sweetness, whispered in a honeyed voice, "My love, don’t worry. Your father will one day see your true worth..."
Although in her eyes shone the same question that tormented everyone: Why were Kael and Lyra the only ones worthy of attention?
In a corner, a young lady dug her nails into her silk fan, thinking, "If I had a talent like his... would he finally notice me?"
After crossing the main hall, they went outside, where the bitter cold of the night hit their faces.
The stone paths, once elegant and polished, now lay hidden beneath a thick blanket of snow that crunched under their boots with every step.
The air smelled of winter: clean, metallic, with a distant hint of burning wood still wafting from the mansion’s chimneys.
They moved forward silently, away from the imposing structure. Soon they entered the bamboo forest, where tall, green, flexible stalks stood like guardians. Moonlight filtered through them, drawing silvery patterns on the uneven snow.
Kael scanned his surroundings calmly. Every new corner had to be evaluated, for even the most serene beauty could hide traps. In this world, caution meant life; trust meant death.
Following a barely marked path, they climbed a hill covered with vibrant grass.
There was no trace of snow there; the ground was warm beneath his feet, and the air smelled of damp earth and fresh shoots.
Jack stopped and announced, "This is as far as I can take you. Mr. Zephyr is further ahead."
Kael nodded and continued walking.
As he reached the top of the hill, the hut appeared before him: a simple structure made of dark wood and red tiles. Beyond it lay a lake with still waters, where black and white lotus flowers floated, swaying to the rhythm of the breeze.
In front of the hut, a stone table awaited him. Two chairs made of the same material flanked it. On the table, a chessboard was perfectly arranged. None of the pieces had been moved yet.
Zephyr stood by the lake. His tall, slender figure was silhouetted against the moonlight. His hair was red as blood, and his tunic was the same color, fluttering in the wind. His hands rested behind his back, and his gaze was fixed on the dark waters.
Kael stopped a few steps away from the table.
Zephyr barely turned his face. A faint, almost imperceptible smile appeared on his lips.
With a gesture, he indicated the chair in front of him.
"Sit down. Wine or tea?"