Harmonia Calendar 715, Thal 22 - Ashspire Estate, Elandor
Early Morning - Anton's Study
The Swordmaster's report arrived before breakfast.
I unfolded the parchment and smoothed it flat across the desk. My eyes traced the lines as I read.
[Awakened. Core stabilized. Recommended rest.]
My voice slipped out low.
"Awakening..."
I set the parchment aside, sliding it beside the stack of guest lists.
The leather creaked under me as I leaned back in the chair.
Children awaken between fourteen and fifteen.
That is the course of nature.
The gifted awaken at thirteen.
But twelve?
At twelve, there is no training, no talent.
That was fate itself.
'Father like son.'
The thought almost amused me.
'So the boy wasn't useless after all.'
With this, nobles of rank will take notice.
A high match might be possible, and by chance… Grand Duke Valmontis's daughter turned twelve this year.
Fate had its ways.
I took up a slip of paper and dipped the quill, my hand wrote in tidy strokes.
[Keep him presentable.]
***
Noon - Training Chamber
The chamber was built from plain stone, its walls pressed close, meant for focus.
The floor bore the marks of drills, scuffed lines, and gouges.
Training dummies stood in a row along the wall, beside them leaned the weapon racks.
I stood in the center.
Shing.
The blade sang as it cut air, the dummy shuddered beneath the blow.
But it wasn't the sound that rang in my head.
It was their faces.
Mother's soft smile.
Lucien's proud look.
Theodora's bright cheer.
All of them, clapping, and cheering—
For him.
For the bastard.
I changed my grip and drove the tip into the dummy's chest.
Shuk.
The wood cracked, and splinters flew.
Again.
Shuk.
Again.
Shuk.
The wood shook with each stab.
'He's twelve, and they're already calling him a prodigy. He remembers the names of kitchen girls, and they swoon. He stands like a servant, and they call it humility. Ridiculous.'
Step.
The sound of steps broke my thoughts.
A servant waited at the door, head bowed low.
"Lord Favian, the tailor asks for your measure."
My voice came flat.
"Then he should come and take it."
Shuk.
I drove the sword into the post and left it there.
***
Noon - Garden
The garden was small but well-kept.
At its heart stood a springwell of white stone, its sides decorated with faded engravings.
Water shimmered silver in the sunlight as it trickled softly down.
A circle of marble tiles surrounded the well, from which flowerbeds spread in every direction—bursts of purple, white, yellow, and red.
Tall trees ringed the garden, their leaves tinted red and orange instead of plain green.
They stood like a painted wall, giving the place a quiet air of secrecy.
I sat on a stone bench by the springwell.
This was my place.
My refuge.
I spent every break here, eating lunch, watching butterflies drift lazily through the air.
I closed my eyes, breathing in the scent of flowers, and listened to the soft trickle of water.
Until—
Step.
Footsteps broke the silence.
My eyes opened, head turning to the stone path.
Step.
And then he appeared.
'Young Master Adonis.'
He wore a plain black tunic.
His black hair was tousled, falling across his forehead. Bright blue eyes scanned the garden, stopping only after finding me.
A smile spread across his lips as he waved a hand.
"Sarah."
I looked away, heat rising up my neck.
'He's the only one who calls me by name. The others just say 'maid' or 'girl'.'
My heart races every time he says it with that smile.
He crossed over and dropped onto the bench beside me.
His legs were stretched out lazily, head leaning back, and his eyes closed as he let out a heavy sigh.
"Haaah."
He was—
Too close.
Closer than any boy had ever sat near me.
I shifted slightly, putting space between us.
Silence settled again.
I tried to look away, but couldn't help myself and glanced at him.
He sat, eyes shut, almost sleeping.
His lips curved into that smile I liked.
But—
I frowned, annoyed.
'He barges in, breaks the silence, and now sits there without even speaking to me?'
I cleared my throat with a cough before speaking.
"Young Mast—"
His eyes opened at once.
He cut me off with a wave of his hand.
"Sarah. How many times must I say it? Don't call me 'young master.' Adonis is fine."
Heat rushed to my face, and I turned away.
"But… if someone heard, it wouldn't look proper."
He chuckled softly.
"Sarah, look at me."
My head turned before I could stop it.
His blue eyes caught mine.
"There's no need for titles between us. Or was I wrong to think we're friends?"
My mind blanked.
'Friends? A noble and a maid? Impossible. And yet…'
My heart pounded.
At last, I whispered, lips trembling.
"A…Adonis."
His grin widened.
"Much better. Don't you think so, Sarah?"
He stretched my name, teasingly, and I liked how he said it.
I nodded faintly.
"Yes."
He leaned forward, chin propped on his hand, eyes fixed on me as though nothing else in the
garden mattered.
His voice carried a playful note.
"How is your work? I hope no one gave you trouble...or this 'young master' here has to give some trouble to them."
My eyes met his.
I loved it when he looked at me like that.
It made me feel—seen.
I chuckled as I spoke.
"No, nobody troubled me. But..."
His brows lifted.
"But?"
I took a breath.
"You know Elise, don't you? She works in the kitchen."
He gave a small nod.
"She always brings me the kitchen linens to wash. Yesterday, she came while I was taking a break and got angry when I didn't jump up right away. I told her she could wait a moment, and guess what she said?"
His eyes widened in surprise.
"What did she say?"
I scowled at the memory.
"She said I should show her proper respect, since she's been here longer. But she's the same age as me. Then she said that it wasn't right for a maid to receive help and to interact with you, and that I should keep my distance."
Adonis's eyes sharpened.
The warmth of his voice cooled.
"And why should it matter to them if I talk to you? Or if I help you?"
My breath caught.
It wasn't anger exactly, but something raw flickered in him.
It felt good to see him like this.
He leaned closer, voice firm.
"Sarah. I help you because I want to. I talk to you because I like you. You can tell Elise that."
My eyes drifted toward his lips before I noticed it. When I did, heat began to rise.
I turned quickly away, whispering.
"Yes, Adonis."
He nodded once and leaned back, gaze drifting to the flowerbeds.
We sat in silence, watching butterflies wander from flower to flower.
I found my courage after a moment, though my voice cracked.
"Adonis…don't you usually train at this hour?"
He glanced at me, then back ahead.
"Yes. But Mother ordered me to rest after my awakening."
It took a moment before I realized what he had just said.
I froze, eyes widening.
"Awakening!? But...children only awaken after turning thirteen!"
A faint smile touched his lips.
"Normally, yes. Thirteen to fifteen. I was lucky."
A memory rose in my mind.
Tales my father once told me.
"Awakening at twelve…I've heard stories. Heroes of past eras awakened early, too. At twelve."
He gave a sharp laugh.
"A hero? Sarah, I was just lucky. I'm nowhere close to a hero."
My lips curved, a small smile spreading at the thought.
"I didn't say you are one now…but maybe...you will be."
His eyes lingered on me.
Then—
He looked away, whispering.
"A hero…"