Thorne lay sprawled on his bed in Uncle’s estate, staring at the ceiling. His fingers absentmindedly fiddled with his mother’s pendant, feeling the familiar warmth of the aether as it pulsed faintly beneath the surface. He toyed with the flow of it, restricting and widening the aether, feeling subtle changes ripple through his body as the intensity fluctuated.

  He was bored. Worse than that, he was grumpy.

  It had been days since the fight with the golem, and his body had completely healed. The aether fatigue that had weighed him down after the battle had finally lifted. He should have been relieved, but instead, an unsettling feeling hung over him. It refused to go away, clinging to him no matter what he did.

  Thorne sighed, flipping the pendant between his fingers. Since arriving in Alvar, his life had been a constant whirlwind of running, fighting, and scheming just to stay alive. Every moment had been filled with action or plotting. Now... now he had nothing. Nothing but waiting. Waiting for another invitation to some noble’s party, waiting for something to happen.

  But Alvar wasn’t Valewind. The social scene here was staler, and the gatherings were rare, especially now with the constant aether disruptions plaguing the city. People were cautious, locking themselves away in their estates, afraid they’d get caught in another wave of destruction. Some of the nobles had even fled to their country estates, feeling safer surrounded by the quiet of nature than in the city.

  Thorne groaned. He had nothing to do. Nothing. His fingers tightened around the pendant.

  “Maybe I could head to the forest and hunt,” he muttered aloud, trying to convince himself. His new trait, Lunar Champion, was itching to be tested. He knew he needed to absorb more aether from the beasts to unlock the next tier of his abilities. Last night, he’d tried out Silverlight Strikes for the first time, and his dagger had glowed faintly with a silver light, just like the moon. He had wanted to test it further, see how much damage it could inflict, but he hadn’t been in the mood to traipse through the woods.

  Thorne sat up, tossing the pendant onto the bed. “I’m not going to accomplish anything by lying here,” he muttered to himself.

  With a heavy sigh, he stood and wandered over to his closet. His fingers trailed through the rich, smooth fabrics, trying to decide what to wear. After a few moments, he settled on a simple gray outfit with a blue overcoat. Without the help of a servant, it took him longer than usual to button everything up, but once he was dressed, he felt... better. More refreshed. More purposeful.

  His first appearance in Alvar society had been a complete failure, but that didn’t mean it had to stay that way. Maybe he could remedy that. He would stroll through the noble quarter, see if he could bump into someone familiar, strike up a conversation. Anything to make connections and turn things around.

  Thorne straightened his coat, grabbed the pendant from the bed, and put around his neck. Time to do something.

  *

  The streets of the noble quarter carried a quiet stillness, as if even the stones beneath Thorne’s boots had settled into a long-held breath. There was something eerie about how subdued everything felt. The grand estates, with their towering walls and intricate gates, seemed lifeless—more like fortresses than homes.

  When he reached the square, he slowed. The governing building stood tall and imposing at the heart of it, surrounded by stately shops and open stalls. Thorne’s eyes flicked toward the corner of the square, where memories from years past came flooding back—standing there, a young beggar boy, watching the nobles pass by, hoping for a coin or even just a glance.

  He sighed, a small, rueful smile tugging at his lips. What a difference a few years made.

  Shaking off the thoughts, Thorne moved to a nearby stall, buying a drink filled with slices of exotic fruit, the sweetness of the honey coating his tongue. He wandered from shop to shop, his eyes lazily drifting over the goods displayed in the windows. He wasn’t really paying attention—his mind was elsewhere, restless.

  And then, he saw her.

  A young woman, accompanied by an older lady with a rigid posture, stepped out of a jewelry shop just ahead. Behind them, a servant struggled to carry several brightly wrapped packages, each one tied with extravagant bows.

  Thorne’s gaze lingered on the young woman—the heart-shaped face, the cascade of blonde curls, the striking green eyes. She moved with effortless grace, but it wasn’t just her appearance that caught his attention. He knew her. It clicked.

  Lady Langston’s brunch.

  She had sat across from him at the table, her eyes filled with curiosity. He hadn't known who she was then, but her face had left an impression.

  His posture straightened, a small spark of intrigue igniting within him. Without missing a beat, his expression shifted into one of pleasant surprise, his Acting and Mask of Deceit skills molding his features into the perfect blend of charm and recognition.

  Their eyes met.

  Thorne stepped forward with an easy smile. “Good afternoon, my Lady,” he greeted, his voice smooth and confident. “A pleasant surprise to see a familiar face.”

  The young woman blinked, her lips parting slightly before curving into a soft smile of her own. “Good afternoon, my Lord,” she replied, her tone polite but carrying a hint of warmth. “I believe we met at Lady Langston’s brunch?”

  Thorne gave a slight bow, his smile widening just enough to show genuine interest. “Indeed, we did. It’s rare to see anyone out and about these days. Most seem to prefer the safety of their homes.”

  Her smile grew as she glanced at her chaperone, who stood stiffly beside her, before turning her attention back to Thorne. “Well, I suppose some of us are a bit more restless than others. The estates can be dreadfully dull after a while.”

  Thorne caught the glint in her eyes, the unspoken desire for something more. But she held herself with the kind of grace that didn’t give away too much. She was poised, measured, yet... something beneath the surface stirred.

  “Lady Ravencourt, I believe it is time for us to leave.” The chaperone interrupted, the older woman giving Thorne hostile looks.

  “You must be Lady Selene Ravencourt,” Thorne said, his tone shifting subtly as the realization settled in. He'd read the name in passing but had imagined a much younger girl. “I am Lord Thorne Silverbane.”

  “Selene Ravencourt,” she confirmed with a slight nod, her smile lingering. “A pleasure to meet you properly.”

  Ravencourt.

  His mind briefly flicked to the family, the feud, and the power struggle. He had read the briefing about her, about her family. Yet here was Selene in the flesh, a name mentioned only in passing, as though she were insignificant—a child. But standing before him now, there was nothing childish about her. He had assumed she was too young to be of any consequence. But as he stood there, looking into her bright green eyes, he realized she was anything but.

  “Lord Silverbane,” she repeated, her gaze flicking briefly to the servant beside her, struggling with the boxes. “You’ve traveled quite a bit, haven’t you? You must find Alvar dreadfully boring.”

  Stolen novel; please report.

  There was a hint of amusement in her voice, but her words were careful, as if she were testing the waters. Thorne gave a soft chuckle, sensing the challenge.

  “It’s true,” he admitted, his eyes twinkling. “Alvar has a... slower pace compared to some of the places I’ve seen. But I find there’s beauty in the quiet too, don’t you?”

  She tilted her head slightly, her curls bouncing with the movement. “Perhaps,” she mused, her lips curving into a playful smile. “But I imagine someone like you—someone who’s seen the world—must long for excitement.”

  Thorne’s gaze sharpened just a fraction, catching the subtle undertone in her words. She was curious, intrigued by the idea of adventure, but she wasn’t showing all her cards just yet. Still, he could sense it—the thirst for something beyond the walls of Alvar, for stories that extended far beyond the safety of the estates.

  “Well,” Thorne began, his tone low, almost conspiratorial., “excitement can be found in the strangest of places. It’s all about knowing where to look.”

  Her smile widened slightly, and for a moment, their eyes held. Their conversation seemed to narrow, the rest of the world fading into the background. There was a quiet understanding between them, something unspoken.

  Selene’s chaperone shifted beside her, breaking the moment. “My Lady Selene,” the older woman said, her tone firm, “we really must return to the estate.”

  Selene glanced at her chaperone, a flash of annoyance passing through her eyes before she quickly composed herself. “Of course, Milena.” She turned back to Thorne, her expression softening. “But before we go... I would love to hear more about your travels, Lord Silverbane. Perhaps we could sit for a moment?”

  Thorne’s smile widened. “There’s a lovely bakery just there,” he said, gesturing to a small shop with a couple of tables outside. “They serve excellent pastries. I’d be honored if you joined me.”

  Selene’s face brightened, but Milena stepped forward, her eyes narrowing slightly. “My Lady, it would not be proper. The Lord is unaccompanied.”

  Thorne’s smile faltered for only a second before his Acting skill kicked in, his expression shifting to one of carefully measured grief. “Ah... yes, of course,” he murmured, his voice heavy with emotion. “Forgive me. I lost all my companions during my journey. They were... dear to me. Brave men, all of them.”

  Selene’s eyes softened, a quiet sympathy flickering across her face. Milena hesitated, her strict posture faltering just slightly, but it was Selene who reacted.

  “Milena, that’s quite enough,” she said, her voice calm but resolute. “It’s just a conversation.”

  Without waiting for further protest, Selene turned and walked toward the small bakery, her movements graceful yet filled with quiet determination. Thorne watched her, a flicker of admiration passing through him.

  Milena pursed her lips but, with a resigned sigh, followed after her charge.

  Thorne, his grin barely contained, stepped forward and pulled out a chair for Selene, his eyes catching hers as she sat down. There was something electric in the air between them, a subtle connection forming with every exchanged glance, every unspoken word.

  “I’d love to hear more about the southern provinces,” Selene said, her voice light but eager. “I’ve always wondered what life is like beyond Alvar.”

  Thorne leaned back slightly, his grin widening just enough to show his amusement. “I have plenty of stories to share, my Lady,” he replied, his tone smooth. “Where would you like me to begin?”

  The server arrived with a small menu, but Selene was quick to make a suggestion, her eyes bright with enthusiasm. "You must try the blueberry pie," she said, clasping her hands together as if she were revealing a grand secret. "It's the best in all of Alvar."

  Thorne couldn’t help the small, unintentional laugh that escaped him. It wasn’t mocking—just an instinctive reaction.

  Selene’s head tilted slightly, her eyes narrowing with amusement. “What’s so funny?”

  Thorne smiled, more to himself than at her. “Forgive me, Lady Selene. It’s just... blueberry pie happens to be my favorite dessert. But it’s been a long while since I’ve had it. A... past experience left a bit of a bitter taste, so to speak.”

  Selene’s brows rose, curiosity sparking in her eyes. “Is that so, I sense a story here?” Her lips curved mischievously. “Well, will I be able to change your mind? The blueberry pies are divine here!”

  Thorne gave an indulgent smile, feeling a warmth he hadn’t expected. Despite himself, he found the words slipping out before he could stop them. “I suppose I can be persuaded.”

  Selene clapped her hands together in triumph, a victorious gleam in her eyes. “Two slices of blueberry pie, then,” she said to the server, her excitement bubbling over.

  As they waited for their order, their conversation shifted to small talk about the current happenings in Alvar. Thorne leaned back, watching her closely as she animatedly discussed the aether occurrences. “I heard a rumor,” she said, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, “that some brave hero helped the city guards defeat a gargantuan aether beast. They say it was... enormous!”

  Thorne smirked internally, though his expression remained neutral. So, word of the fight with the aether golem has already reached the Ravencourts. He took mental note of that. It could be useful later, knowing how quickly rumors spread in noble circles.

  The server returned with their slices of blueberry pie, each one a delicate masterpiece drizzled with syrup. Selene wasted no time, picking up her fork and taking a bite with a delighted sigh. Thorne followed suit, the taste of the pie bringing back memories he had long pushed aside. It was sweet, with a subtle tartness from the blueberries, and for a brief moment, he allowed himself to enjoy it.

  “So, tell me,” Selene said between bites, her voice light but curious. “What is it like to travel so far? Have you visited many cities?”

  Thorne leaned back, considering his answer. He could feel the intensity of her gaze, the eagerness to hear more about the world beyond Alvar. He began by mentioning a few of the cities Arletta had advised him to talk about—names that would sound impressive to any noble, yet distant enough to remain vague.

  But when he spoke of Valewind, the details came naturally. “Valewind is like no other place,” he said, his voice lowering just slightly, as if sharing a secret. “The city is beautiful and ancient, filled with old traditions and history. But it’s also alive in a way that’s hard to describe. There’s a party every day, a gathering every night. Something new, something exciting always seems to happen. The nobles there are... different.”

  Selene was captivated. She rested her head on her hand, her eyes wide with curiosity, hanging on to every word. “That sounds... incredible. Are there so many nobles in Valewind? Enough to have parties every night?”

  Thorne chuckled, savoring her interest. “Not all the gatherings are hosted by nobles, though. The younger ones—people our age—often go out to the city’s taverns and wineries once the sun sets. It’s a... different sort of excitement.”

  “Taverns?” Selene’s eyes widened in scandalized surprise, and Thorne couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at his lips.

  “Not the kind you’re used to, I’m sure,” he said, his voice smooth. “These taverns are respectable establishments, with the finest drinks and food. They only allow the most reputable people inside. Some of them...” he paused, leaning forward ever so slightly, “are quite spectacular. With bards, dancers, and breathtaking views of the city.”

  Selene's mouth formed a small, shocked “O” as she took it all in. She was completely entranced, her face alight with the thrill of imagining something so different from the world she knew.

  "I want to go there," she whispered, almost as if she had forgotten where she was. The words slipped out before she could stop them, her eyes glazing over with a distant dream.

  Thorne laughed, the sound rich and warm, though he noticed Milena’s glare burning into him from the side. He could tell the chaperone wasn’t pleased with him putting such ideas in her charge’s head. But Selene’s face remained radiant, her desire evident.

  "I’m sure you’ll have your chance to travel someday," Thorne said, his voice gentler now. He could sense the yearning in her words, the wish for more than what Alvar had to offer.

  But Selene’s expression faltered, her smile fading into something uncertain. “Maybe,” she murmured, her tone quieter now. “In Alvar, things are different. As you’ve probably noticed, there aren’t many parties. Not like Valewind. Everything here is... slower.”

  Thorne studied her for a moment, noting the far-off look in her eyes, as if she were considering something. Her fingers drummed lightly on the table, her thoughts clearly wandering to some distant place.

  Then, as if struck by a sudden idea, her expression transformed—her face lighting up with a radiant smile that was almost infectious. “Lord Silverbane, I must depart!” she announced, standing abruptly and gathering her skirts with surprising urgency.

  Thorne blinked, caught off guard by her sudden shift in mood. His expression mirrored genuine confusion as he stood as well, offering a slight bow. “Of course, my Lady, but...”

  Milena gave Selene a questioning look, but the young woman’s resolve was unshakable. “Milena, we have to pay a visit,” Selene said firmly, waving her finger at the servant to follow. The authoritative tone in her voice suggested that this wasn’t a matter up for discussion.

  Before Thorne could even fully process the change in her demeanor, Selene turned back to him, offering a dazzling smile. “I will see you soon, Lord Silverbane. I can’t wait to hear more of your stories,” she said with a graceful curtsy.

  Thorne bowed in response, still flabbergasted by the whirlwind of her sudden departure. “Of course, my Lady. It was a pleasure.”

  As Selene began to turn away, she paused for just a moment, her gaze locking with his. There was something playful, almost mischievous, in her eyes. “You’ve given me many great ideas,” she said with a wink. “I have a feeling something exciting is on the horizon.”

  And with that, she swept away, her skirts billowing as she hurried down the street, leaving Thorne standing in stunned silence, the lingering scent of blueberries and adventure in the air.

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