CHAPTER#37:Tour around the fortress

"Then I shall take my leave, madame."

Derran rose slowly, his crooked back protesting the movement. His wrinkled, bony hand hovered over the metal door handle—an ornate wolf's head—before the door swung open on its own.

"Oh! Old man?"

A startled voice met them at the threshold.

"Well, well, if it isn't Blake. Quite the surprise to see you here," Derran remarked, his tone mildly amused.

The butler's expression darkened as his gaze flickered between the elderly man and Luciana. "What might you be doing in the master's chambers?" His voice was stern, edged with suspicion.

Luciana stiffened, her mind racing for an explanation, but Derran spoke first, his demeanor unshaken.

"The lady requested medication for the young lord. As you can see, her maid has just taken the child to change his clothes." He offered an easy smile, his tone deliberately casual.

Blake did not look entirely convinced, but he said nothing. Luciana stepped forward, drawing the butler's attention.

"Thank you for your assistance, Mister Derran. It eased my mind to see my son in comfort." She dismissed him with a polite nod, her words carrying an implicit request for Blake to let the matter rest.

As Derran slipped past them, Blake turned his attention back to Luciana, his expression neutral once more.

"May I ask what brings the butler here at this hour?" she inquired.

"The master has requested that I escort you around the fortress and introduce you to the servants," Blake replied, his tone noticeably softer than before.

Luciana hesitated, then asked, "Before we proceed, may I know where my husband is?"

"The lord has traveled to Alaksad territory for negotiations, madame. A surge of wildlings has been wreaking havoc in the southern regions."

Luciana's expression shifted, her brows furrowing in concern. "I see… I hope he is safe." Her hands clenched into fists.

Blake studied her for a moment before offering, "Shall we?"

The stained-glass windows cast fragmented hues of color along the stone corridors as Blake led her forward.

After a stretch of silence, the butler spoke, his voice thoughtful. "If I may be so bold… What is it about the lord that worries you, madame?"

Luciana exhaled softly, acknowledging his directness. "That is indeed a bold question," she admitted.

"Forgive me if I've overstepped. But ever since I have served the lord, he has always been… an unusual man. Detached. Unyielding. Yet, on the night he brought you here, something was different. He was—" Blake hesitated, searching for the right words. "—more expressive. As if his heart had been moved."

Luciana remained silent, unsure how to respond. The butler's assumption was not entirely false, but neither was it entirely true.

"My lady… do you sympathize with him?"

Her gaze flickered toward him, but she did not answer immediately.

"Perhaps," she murmured at last, reluctant to acknowledge even that much.

Blake nodded, sensing there was nothing more to say. The conversation lapsed into silence as he continued the tour.

The fortress was an architectural relic of another era—its stone blocks arranged in elaborate patterns, its faded tapestries swaying gently with each passing draft. As they descended to the second floor, Blake took flight, his wings carrying him effortlessly downward.

Luciana, on the other hand, had to navigate the treacherous stone steps on foot. The ancient staircase bore cracks and wear, each step a hazard waiting to catch an unsuspecting traveler.

"Madame, watch your step!" Blake warned as she nearly stumbled.

She steadied herself, brushing off his concern. "I'm fine," she reassured him, though her heart still pounded from the near fall.

Blake hesitated before suggesting, "It would be far more convenient if you could fly in such situations."

Luciana's expression darkened briefly. "If only I could." Her voice was barely above a whisper, tinged with quiet frustration.

Blake halted mid-step, turning to face her fully. "You… can't fly?" His disbelief was evident.

"I know what you're thinking, Blake. Every Amanécerian is born with wings. It is strange, isn't it?"

The butler bowed his head deeply. "Forgive me, madame. I did not mean to offend you."

"You didn't. You couldn't have known. I simply never found the right time to mention it."

A beat passed before Blake spoke again. "And the young master?"

"Nemesis is undernourished. I believe he will develop wings once he regains his health."

"I see…"

The second floor contained offices, guest quarters, and a familiar courtyard where the Blue Van merchants were lodging. The courtyard also housed Derran's laboratory, though the old man was absent.

Luciana carefully avoided the hidden traps that Blake pointed out as they proceeded to the first floor. This level housed the kitchens, the training hall, the grand hall, the main reception area, restrooms for travelers, and various offices. Among them, an abandoned hospice caught Luciana's attention.

"This hospice… has it been out of use for long?" she inquired.

"For years," Blake confirmed. "With the right renovations, it could serve a new purpose."

Luciana nodded thoughtfully. If restored, it would be an ideal place for Derran to conduct his research.

As they turned a corner, a familiar hallway came into view—one she recognized from the night she had fled.

Eventually, they stepped into a vast central courtyard, lush and green. Unlike the other overgrown and untended courtyards of the fortress, this space was functional, cultivated to provide food for the soldiers.

Blake's voice carried a note of regret. "This was once tended by a proper gardener, but he resigned due to delayed wages. One of the junior servants now maintains it."

Luciana glanced around, a sense of nostalgia creeping in. She recalled the imperial palace gardens where her mother, the empress, and her aunts—Duchess Aurora and Lady Naila Arcea—often gathered. They would sit for hours, sipping tea, their conversation light and unhurried. She remembered her mother, Aphrodite's ladies in waiting would often go, plucking fresh dates and olives from the trees, for her and used to serve her to enjoy them with banana cream pastries, even while buried in her work.

Those days felt like another lifetime.

"Madame, if you grow tired, please do not hesitate to tell me," Blake assured her.

Luciana pulled herself from her reverie. "Thank you, Blake. I will, should the need arise."

"Then I believe it is time to formally introduce you to the household staff."

The main reception hall loomed ahead, its towering stone walls imposing yet dignified. Wide, pointed arches stretched high above, upheld by sturdy grey pillars that had withstood centuries.

The banners of Stygian hung solemnly from the arches, their dark fabric shifting slightly in the air.

Blake cleared his throat, his voice commanding as he addressed the gathered servants.

"As of today, the master's wife, Madame Stygian, will oversee this household as the lady of the Stygian Territory."

The servants exchanged uncertain glances before bowing in unison.

"We welcome the madame of Stygian," they murmured in dutiful chorus.

Luciana watched them closely, her sharp eyes catching the flickers of doubt beneath their rehearsed deference.

"They look more confused than reassured," she noted silently.

Blake remained composed, his gaze steady. "Shall we continue, madame?"

Luciana straightened her posture, masking her own uncertainty.

"Yes. Let us proceed."