Chapter 18- The calm before a storm

Jane sat in her room, gently swirling the tea in her delicate porcelain cup, making the amber liquid ripple under the soft glow of the lamp.

A faint grimace crossed her lips as discomfort settled in her stomach. It was a consequence of her indulgence earlier in the day. She sighed as she sank deeper into her sofa.

It had been her first outing in weeks, and she had let herself go. The lavish spread of delicate confections at the tea salon had been far too tempting to resist, and Sofia's encouragement had only made things worse. One bite turned into two, then three, until she had sampled nearly everything on the menu. Now, the rich sweetness sat heavy in her stomach, a reminder of her lack of restraint.

She placed the cup down on its saucer, pressing her fingers lightly against her stomach as she exhaled.

It had been an eventful day, filled with shopping, a visit to the parlor, and… a brief return to Marcellus Manor.

The memory flickered in her mind as she gazed at the golden hue of her tea.

It was in the afternoon when she arrived at the manor. She remained seated in the car and didn't step out.

It was simple task.

She caught sight of a young maid walking toward the manor's entrance. With a swift motion, Jane lowered the window and called out.

"You there."

The maid, hearing a familiar voice, halted in her steps and turned toward the car. Her expression held a flicker of confusion as her eyes landed on Jane. It had been some time since she had last seen the young lady at the manor, after all.

"Yes, young lady?" Bell answered hesitantly, dipping into a quick bow as she lifted the edge of her skirt slightly to approach faster.

"Tell Ara to come out," Jane ordered without further explanation.

Bell hesitated for only a second before nodding and hurrying inside. Jane watched with mild impatience, her fingers drumming lightly against the window frame.

After a brief wait, the heavy doors of the manor opened once more, and Ara stepped out, walking toward the vehicle with a steady, practiced grace. She was Jane's personal maid, a presence who had been with her since she could remember. In her hands, she carried a small, intricately carved wooden box, its polished surface gleaming under the daylight. Delicate gold filigree lined its edges, and a fine clasp secured its contents within.

Approaching the vehicle, Ara stopped just before Jane's window and bowed deeply before extending the box toward her.

"Young Lady," she said in a smooth, measured tone.

Jane accepted the box, flipping open the lid with practiced ease. Nestled within a velvet cushion was the jewelry piece she had requested. The stones sparkled in the light, catching her eye immediately. Satisfied, she smiled, closing the box with a soft click.

Bell, still standing a few steps away, strained her neck slightly in an attempt to see what had been inside, but Ara's figure obstructed most of her view. Whatever it was, Jane clearly found it satisfactory.

Without another word, Jane leaned back into her seat and gestured for the car to move. The wheels creaked against the gravel before smoothly rolling forward, carrying her away from the estate once more.

Her task was complete, and now, she could finally enjoy the rest of her day without concern.

Back in the present, Jane allowed herself to relax fully into the embrace of her sofa. With a final slow sip of her tea, she exhaled in contentment. It had been a long day, but a fulfilling one.

Her eyelids felt heavy, exhaustion settling into her limbs from the hours spent outside. Tomorrow could wait. For now, she would simply rest.

- - - - - -

The car moved smoothly along the quiet road, its engine humming softly against the stillness of the night. The passing streetlights cast fleeting glows across the interior, illuminating the two figures seated within the tinted windows.

John leaned back against the leather seat, his posture relaxed, yet his sharp eyes remained attentive. Beside him, Noah sat nestled against the cushioned interior, his small hands resting limply in his lap. His eyes, though still faintly glistening with the remnants of the day's enjoyment, fluttered shut for longer each time, his blinks growing slower and heavier.

John glanced at him, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Did you enjoy yourself today?"

Noah blinked sluggishly before nodding. "Mm… yes. It was really fun," he mumbled, his voice light and airy, as if speaking required too much energy. A tiny smile graced his lips, but it wavered as exhaustion weighed him down.

John watched him in amusement, his tone turning gentle. "Good. You should rest. I'll wake you when we arrive."

Noah hummed in response, but sleep had already claimed him. His breathing slowed, soft and rhythmic, his small frame gradually leaning to the side until his head rested against John's arm.

John remained still, his gaze lowering to the child beside him. The dim glow of the passing lights cast flickering shadows over Noah's face, accentuating the gentle curve of his cheek and the soft flutter of his lashes.

His expression softened, but there was something distant in his crimson eyes, a memory lingering at the edge of his mind.

"He really does look like you, brother."

John's lips pressed into a thin line as his eyes slightly darkened, a quiet sorrow flickering within their depths.

Outside, the streetlights blurred past, reflections dancing against the car's windows. John turned his gaze away, exhaling a quiet breath.

The vehicle continued its smooth journey through the night, the road ahead stretching toward the manor waiting beyond the horizon.

- - - - - -

Lucien walked through the brightly lit corridor, his steps measured and deliberate. His footsteps echoed softly within the quiet resonance of the dormitory.

As he neared his room, a habitual motion had him extending the bag to casually toss it aside. He paused briefly, his fingers tightening slightly around the handle as his gaze flickered down toward the contents within.

He drew out the small box, weighing it in his palm.

His golden eyes studied the item with an unfathomable gaze.

The lapel pin gleamed subtly under the light, its gold framework catching the glow.

He let out a quiet breath before slipping the box into his pocket, discarding the gift bag and letter with a practiced flick of his wrist. Perhaps the pin might prove useful later, should his father inquire about it.

Continuing down the path, he spotted Theodore and Kevin waiting by his door. Theodore, as always, looked entertained, while Kevin remained his usual stoic self, standing with his arms crossed.

Theodore grinned as soon as he spotted Lucien. "Ah, finally. We were wondering when you'd drag yourself back here."

"You're back," Kevin greeted, his tone neutral but acknowledging. "A lot of your stuff arrived while you were gone. I kept them in my room."

Lucien's gaze flickered toward him. "I'll have the workers fetch them later. Thanks for keeping them in the meantime."

Theodore let out an exaggerated sigh. "You should've seen the stuff Mr. John sent this time. The packages practically piled up like a mountain."

He paused briefly as he remembered something. "Oh, right. There was a cake along with all that stuff, but the other kids devoured it already."

Lucien's reaction was nonexistent. "Let them have it," he said flatly.

He shifted slightly, the weight of the evening still clinging to him. "I'll freshen up first and join you guys later."

Kevin gave a brief nod. "Suit yourself."

With that, the two bid their farewells and left, their voices fading as they disappeared down the hall.

Lucien stepped into his room and closed the door behind him, the quiet of the space welcoming him like a familiar embrace.

He threw his coat over the sofa and sank into its cushions, leaning back with a soft exhale as he let his thoughts wander freely.

Instead of peace, all he found was an unsettling emptiness.

His gaze instinctively landed on the book resting on his desk. It lay still in its pristine glory… without a smudge of ink in sight.

It had thrown his thoughts into disarray ever since he found it.

Lucien had never been one to dwell on things, but lately, an unsettling feeling had taken root. It was a sense that something was shifting, just out of sight. Even tonight's dinner had come unexpectedly.

Had his life always been this unpredictable? Or was he only now beginning to notice?

He ran a hand through his hair, shaking off the thought.

In the end, it didn't matter.

No matter what happened next, he would face it the way he always did- without expectation, without hesitation.

For now, all he wanted was a moment of quiet.

Lucien let out a slow breath, feeling the weight of the day settle over him. The dim glow of the bedside lamp cast unique shadows across the room, stretching lazily over the dark wood floors.

With an easy motion, he stood from the sofa, his fingers moving to loosen the knot of his tie. The fabric slid free, a smooth whisper against his shirt, and he draped it over the sofa. His shirt, once pristine, now felt stifling, and he unfastened the buttons at his collar, undoing them one by one as he made his way toward the bathroom.

Warm steam curled into the air as he turned on the faucet, and soon the sound of running water filled the room, drowning out the silence.

The night would pass.

A new day would come.

And Lucien would continue on, just as he always had.