Michael

Paris, France

Château de Ambroise,

Inside the large estate, a vast field that seemed to spread as far as the eye could see, with no trees or bushes in sight. Just a large grass meadow, resembling a golf course.

A man stood there, he had a charming face with alluring amber eyes. He wore a chocolate leather jacket and black trousers, coupled with a silver earring by his left ear.

He stood by a grave, his eyes gleamed with a mixture of sadness and nostalgia. The grave itself was a masterpiece of elegance, a small white building that resembled a miniature tomb. The structure was adorned with intricate gold designs that danced across its surface, casting a subtle shimmer in the sunlight.

The name "Pandora Corsaire" was etched into the stone, the letters carved with precision and care. The font was ornate, with subtle flourishes that added to the overall sense of luxury and refinement. Below the name, a simple yet poignant epitaph was inscribed: "La lumière de mon âme" – The light of my soul.

He gently placed a rose flower on the grave bed and smiled, his eyes welling up with emotions. He was about to say some words when he heard a slight chuckle come from beside him. "I knew you'd be here," a voice followed, seemingly from the same source of the chuckle.

He turned to face the owner of the voice, and smiling heartily beside him was a beautiful woman in her early 40s. She had gold blonde hair tied into a ponytail, purple eyes, and adorned herself with a golden necklace that had a purple crystal pendant, further adding to her charm.

The man smiled and shifted his gaze back to the grave. "Can't I visit my dear mother's grave anymore?" he muttered.

The woman chuckled and moved closer to him. "Richard, we both know that she's not dead," she said, her voice laced with a hint of worry.

Richard frowned and clenched his fist. "She is to me," he said softly, a hint of pain in his voice.

The woman sighed and faced him. "It's good to see you again, brother," she smiled, opening her arms for an embrace.

Richard chuckled and hugged her warmly. "Good to see you too, Naomi," he muttered, breaking free from her arms.

"My, you've grown so much. Last time I saw you, it was all about partying and English women," Naomi chuckled, her eyes sparkling with mirth.

"Sister, it is still, all about partying," Richard replied with a smile, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

Naomi laughed, a melodious sound that filled the air. "Well, I've really missed my baby brothers. Speaking of which, where is Michael? I figured he'd be the first of us to arrive, after all, he has this thing about lateness," she said, her brow furrowed with concern.

Richard shrugged. "I don't know, he could be inside the mansion already. I came here as soon as I arrived," he stated, his eyes scanning the surrounding area.

Naomi nodded. "Well, we better go and meet aunt mj. She's really excited that we're here," she said, beginning to walk away from the grave.

Richard scoffed, following behind her. "You haven't gone to see her yet?" he asked, his voice laced with amusement.

Naomi shook her head. "Oh no, I just happened to come across Aurelia by the gate. And she told me that Aunt was very ecstatic, and it's either because of today's event coupled with our arrival, or maybe she's had too much vodka," she explained, a chuckle escaping her lips.

Richard raised an eyebrow. "Please, I think it'll take more than a few shots to make her drunk. Besides, we both know Carmilla. She gets excited only when feeding, killing, or talking about family," he replied, his voice dripping with hilarity

Naomi giggled. "You forgot torturing," she added

Richard snickered. "She does take pleasure in seeing her enemies suffer. It literally puts her in heat," he stated

Naomi burst into laughter, her eyes shining with tears. "Hahaha, that's very true. Remember when Henry the First turned down her offer for Ronald and his daughter to get engaged?"

Richard paused, his eyes widening with delight. "I recall that vividly," he said, already laughing slightly

Naomi continued, her voice laced with amusement. "After losing a lot of his precious sons and horses, didn't he kiss Aunt's feet and even begged to make Ron the heir to the English throne?"

Richard laughed out loud, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "He sure did. I don't know why Maya erased this from history. It could have been the most hilarious event in the history of hilarious events," he said

As they continued walking towards the large manor, passing by several other small buildings in the chateau's environs, he added, "You know, Ron told me that he was never actually interested in the princess. He only danced with her out of respect, since she was the first girl to approach him. But Aunt saw them dancing and thought, 'Hey, what a perfect couple,'"

"Well, in the end, they did turn out to be the perfect couple," Naomi muttered, a nostalgic smile spreading across her face.

Richard nodded in agreement. "I agree, sometimes Aunt's appeal of chaos can actually turn out to be something good, unlike us," he said, his voice tinged with a hint of self-deprecation, but deep down, he wasn't bothered by it.

Naomi playfully pushed him. "What do you mean us? You guys, definitely. But me, my appeals have always been about the greater good," she said, touching her chest with a proud smirk.

Richard raised an eyebrow, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Are you serious?" he asked, his voice filled with skepticism. "Do you want me to list it all for you? Oh sister, let's not even get started with the Hundred Years' War,"

Naomi chuckled, her eyes shining with mirth. "Hey, that wasn't my fault. I only advised Edward not to forgo his heritage, and he decided to go start a war with France," she said with a defensive expression.

Richard snickered. "Okay, if you say so," he said, his voice tinged with sarcasm.

"By the way, how's the united states treating you? I heard you head the main intelligence organisation there," he continued

"Well, america's... America, but i'm not the head of the agency. Just the deputy head who likes to fuck around," Naomi replied with a playful smile

Richard chuckled. "As expected of you sister, you don't like to work much. Just give a few of your brilliant ideas and leave the rest of us to it. You haven't changed a bit," he muttered in a jovial tone.

"You're right about that," she replied with a smile. "But, work much? Nah brother, I don't like to work at all," Naomi stated, causing both herself and Richard to burst into laughter.

As they approached the main building, a stunning white modern Louis XIII-style castle, Naomi turned to Richard. "Shall we? I'm sure she's eager to see us," she said, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

Richard nodded, his expression turning serious. "Yes, let's go. I'm sure she'd be very excited. Afterall, it's been a long time," he said, his voice laced with a hint of trepidation. Together, they walked inside the castle, through it's giant doors.

*****

A while ago,

Charles de Gualle Airport,

The airport was abuzz with activity as a tall, handsome man came down from a plane and into the terminal. He walked towards the immigration check point and had his ID verified, before proceeding to the baggage reclaim area, to collect his duffel bag.

As he exited the terminal, the bright sunlight and gentle breeze enveloped him, carrying the sweet scent of freshly cut grass. He retrieved his mobile phone from his pocket, his fingers poised to dial a number, when his gaze fell upon a man standing in the distance, holding a cardboard sign with his name.

He furrowed his brows in curiosity and walked up to the man. "Who sent you?" he asked, his voice firm, but polite.

The man raised a brow and looked at him from head to toe before responding. "Êtes-vous Michel Corsaire?" he asked in the native language.

Michael nodded and replied the man in French. "I am, and i do not recall, requesting for a pick up driver before boarding. So who sent you?" he replied with a sharp voice

The man smiled awkwardly, a bit intimidated by the person in front of him, but he tried to look composed. "Um... I was sent by the countess, she requested the i escorted you to the chateau," he muttered, in French.

Michael chuckled. "Alright then, let's go," he agreed immediately, without a second thought.

The man nodded, collected his bag, then lead him to a black suv, parked nearby. They arrived at the car, it was a Mercedes-maybach GLS 600, and it was attracting a lot of attention, as people stole glances and took pictures of it.

The man opened the door for Michael to enter, before entering as well, then started the engines. As they drove through the city, Michael couldn't help but wonder how his aunt had known he would arrive by a public plane. The driver, sensing his gaze, met his eyes in the rearview mirror and smiled.

After a while, they arrived at the entrance to a grand chateau estate, marked by a large, silver gate. The driver honked twice, and the gate swung open, revealing a picturesque landscape of lush gardens, sparkling fountains, and rolling hills.

As they approached the main building, a stunning castle with towering spires and grand architecture, Michael felt a sense of nostalgia wash over him.

The driver stopped the car in front of the castle doors, jumped out, and opened the door for Michael. "Monsieur, nous sommes arrivés," he said, motioning to the building.

Michael stepped out of the car, took a deep breath of the crisp, country air, and smiled. "Merci beaucoup," he replied the man, his eyes scanning the facade of the castle.

He sighed in satisfaction, glancing around the entire estate. "It's feels good to be here again," he muttered and entered the building.