A Favor or a Threat?

Ramiro dismissed Ivan with a curt nod, his sharp eyes softening slightly as he turned back to Luzia, cradled in his arms like she weighed no more than a feather. "You've made your choice, Luzia. And... I will respect it."

It was the sort of tone that dripped with unspoken disapproval, and Luzia picked up on it immediately. She tilted her head, her brown eyes wide and innocent like a baby bird's. "What's that supposed to mean, Dad? Don't you trust my judgment?"

Ramiro's expression didn't change much, but the flicker of a brow and the almost-audible sigh were answer enough. His face practically screamed 'No, absolutely not, never in a million years,' but his words betrayed none of it. Instead, he settled for, "I trust you'll learn from your mistakes."

Ouch. Luzia narrowed her eyes, her lower lip jutting out in a pout. "Thanks for the vote of confidence," she muttered, crossing her arms as best as she could in her father's iron grip.

Ramiro chuckled—a deep, rumbly sound that felt more like a challenge than actual amusement—and ruffled her hair with one hand. "You'll survive. Now, come on, little one. We've got a full day planned, and you're going to love it."

"Little one?" Luzia huffed, wriggling to free herself from his grip. "I'm not a baby! Put me down!"

"Not a chance," Ramiro said, smirking as he adjusted her like she was a particularly fidgety sack of flour. He carried her out of the training grounds and through the halls with the easy grace of a man used to hauling much heavier burdens.

The rhythmic click of boots on stone announced Aurelio before he even spoke. "My lord..." he called, his tone clipped and urgent as he approached.

Ramiro paused mid-step, his brow furrowing as he turned to face his steward. "What's wrong?"

Aurelio's gaze flicked to Luzia, who was now craning her neck to look at him with blatant curiosity. "It's... something very urgent," Aurrelio hedged, clearly unsure if he should continue with an audience present.

"Just say it," Ramiro said, his voice dropping an octave, a flicker of impatience creeping into his tone.

Aurelio straightened, his expression grim. "Marquis Arturo de Cazadores is here."

For a moment, there was silence. Then Ramiro's eyebrows shot up, and a slow, unsettling smile spread across his face—a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Well, well," he drawled, tilting his head as if savoring some private joke. "Isn't that a surprise?"

Luzia's eyes widened as her stomach dropped. Oh, right, she thought, the pieces clicking together. 'Ramiro's older stepbrother. But he wasn't supposed to meet Ramiro this early according to the novel... Seriously, I don't get it, why are things deviating from the novel?'

She studied her Ramiro's face, but his expression gave nothing away except for that unnerving grin. It was the kind of smile that made grown men sweat—and, occasionally, made Luzia wonder if she'd inherited some of his menace. 'Highly doubt.'

"Should I be worried?" Luzia asked aloud, her voice hesitant.

Ramiro glanced down at her, the grin softening into something almost reassuring. "Not at all," he said breezily. "Unless you're him."

'Now that's an odd thing to say... Well, he is a villain after all,' Luzia thought, watching Ramiro's face.

"Luzia, dear," Ramiro said suddenly, looking at her, his tone distant, his face a mask of indifference. "It seems we'll have to spend time together some other day."

Before Luzia could say anything, he handed her unceremoniously into Aurelio's arms.

"Take her to her room," he commanded coldly, already walking away, his cape sweeping behind him like a shadow.

"Yes, my lord," Aurelio replied, his grip firm but gentle as he adjusted Luzia in his arms.

'I'm curious about what they're going to talk about though,' Luzia mused, her gaze fixed on her father's broad back as he disappeared down the hall. She leaned into Aurelio and whispered, "Do you know what they will talk about?"

Aurelio shook his head, his expression unreadable as he spoke, " I don't know my lady." As he carried her toward her room.

---

Ramiro strode down the hall, the air around him growing colder with each step. When he reached the drawing room, he pushed the door open with deliberate force.

Inside, a man with midnight-black hair and piercing grey eyes sat waiting, his posture casual. He looked up as Ramiro entered, a practiced smile stretching across his face.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, Marquis," Ramiro said, his voice calm but carrying an unmistakable edge.

The man rose to his feet, his smile widening. "Dearest brother, it has been so long, hasn't it?"

Ramiro's gaze darkened as he lowered himself into a sofa opposite Arturo. "I will ignore the fact that you've chosen not to address me as you should, Marquis."

Arturo's smile faltered for a fraction of a second before he shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "Huh? But we are family."

Ramiro laughed—a sound that could chill blood. It was low and carried the unmistakable ring of danger. "Family? Do you always have to use that card whenever you come here? I addressed you by your title, Marquis. You should do the same."

Arturo's fist clenched by his side, but he forced a smile, bowing stiffly. "Greetings, Duke."

"Good. Now, why are you here?" Ramiro asked, leaning back, his sharp gaze boring into Arturo.

Arturo hesitated, his smile tightening. "I came to ask about the sudden redevelopment of Sunshine Orphanage. Since I own the orphanage, I should have been informed—"

"Because?" Ramiro cut in, his golden eyes glowing dangerously as he tilted his head like a predator toying with its prey.

"Well..." Arturo began, but Ramiro raised a hand to silence him.

"Did you forget," Ramiro said, his voice dangerously soft, each word deliberate, "that I own the land your orphanage is built on? I own everything in this duchy. You have no say in the matter. I'm simply fixing what you neglected." His eyes gleamed with an edge sharper than a blade, and his lips curved into a cold, thin smile. "Whether you were aware of the... horrible things the staff there were doing is irrelevant. The redevelopment will continue, and so will the claiming of ownership."

Arturo's face tightened, a flicker of anger breaking through his composed facade before he quickly masked it. For a moment, his fists clenched at his sides, but then he bowed his head slightly, his voice low and measured. "I misspoke. Forgive me, my lord."

Ramiro's smile didn't waver, but his eyes glinted with something dangerous. 'I would kill him right now... if only I had proof he was involved or aware of the staff's deeds.'

Instead, he simply leaned forward, his smile turning razor-sharp. "Then consider this a favor, Marquis. I'm cleaning up your mess. You should be thanking me."

Arturo's forced smile wavered, the edges threatening to give way to the simmering frustration beneath. His hands curled into fists at his sides, his knuckles white. 'Just because he managed to get on Father's good side and inherited the duchy doesn't mean he can keep disrespecting me like this.'

A subtle smirk tugged at the corner of Arturo's lips as a thought slithered through his mind. 'I'll have what's rightfully mine soon enough.'

Outside the drawing room, Luzia crouched by the heavy wooden door, her small frame tucked into the shadows. She pressed her ear to the crack, her heart racing as she tried to make out the muffled voices inside.

'I managed to rush back here just in time after Aurelio left me in my room... Now, what could be so important that Ramiro had to hand me off to Aurelio?' she wondered, her curiosity outweighing any fear of being caught.

Ramiro's deep, commanding tone carried through the door, though the words were muffled. Luzia caught fragments: "...cleaning up your mess... no say in my duchy..." His words were clipped and cold, the kind of tone that made even grown men flinch.

Then came another voice—smoother, more measured. It had to be the Marquis. She strained to hear his reply, but it was too faint.

Her nose wrinkled as she thought, 'The novel didn't explicitly explain the kind of relationship they had, but from this, I can tell—they're like two wolves circling each other. Except Ramiro's the bigger, scarier wolf.'

Arturo smiled, clasping his hands together as if pleased with himself. "Oh yes, I completely forgot. Father actually sent me here."

Luzia's eyes widened, her ear pressing against the door as she leaned in, eager to hear more. 'Ramiro's father?'

Ramiro's expression flickered, his surprise barely concealed. Father sent him? He stared at Arturo, confusion briefly crossing his face before he sighed, exhaling a slow breath.

"He said he wants to see you," Arturo continued, his voice casual but laden with an underlying urgency. "The Magic Tower needs a master... Father can't handle it anymore..."

Ramiro cut him off sharply, his tone firm. "I left that place a long time ago. I told Father I don't need that position."

"Why?" Arturo asked, his voice rising slightly as if trying to push for a reason.

Ramiro fell silent, turning his gaze away.

'Ah, yes. The reason why you're avoiding the Magic Tower is because of your unstable magic... because you lost your wife, your emotions became a mess, and so did your magic.' Arturo thought, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. 'But that's not enough to get Father to drop it. He still wants you to rule, despite all of it... Unbelievable.'

Arturo's smirk remained as he leaned forward, his voice almost mocking. "Father said if you refuse once again, then you should hand over the Ignis."

'The Ignis? That sounds familiar, but I've never seen it in the novel,' Luzia thought, her curiosity growing.