A Step Away

Lucien Mathis de Valentine lounged comfortably in the grand study of the Valentine Manor; his legs draped lazily over the armrest of a velvet chaise longue. The scent of rosewater and parchment lingered in the air, mingling with the warmth of the crackling fireplace. Soft candlelight flickered against towering bookshelves filled with centuries-old tomes, an indulgence only few of the noblest families could afford.

Across from him, Lord Louis Valentine sat at his imposing desk, dressed in his usual dark attire, exuding the same quiet authority that had ruled the Valentine family for generations. His sharp violet eyes—watched his son with an unreadable expression.

"You've spent your entire life within these walls," Lord Valentine said at last. "I have kept you here for your own protection, but you are not a child anymore, Lucien. It is time you accept your responsibilities as the heir."

Lucien stretched with all the lazy grace of a pampered cat, The contrast between his two distinct eyes gleaming with amusement. "Oh, Father, always so serious. I do understand my responsibilities—truly, I do." He placed a hand dramatically over his heart. "But don't you think that before shouldering such burdens, a young man such as myself ought to experience the world first?"

His father remained impassive. "Experience the world?"

"Yes!" Lucien straightened, his smile widening. "Surely, it would be wise to step beyond these gates, breathe fresh air, and see what lies beyond our Manor. I'll visit the villages, observe how people live, and gain a broader perspective—would that not make me a better heir?"

Lord Valentine arched a skeptical brow. "You sound as if you are making a noble sacrifice."

Lucien sighed, placing a hand to his forehead as if struck by great emotion. "Oh, the hardship of travel! But if it is for the sake of our esteemed family, then I must endure it."

Before his father could respond, another voice chimed in.

"Oh, Lou, let the boy go!"

Lady Victoria de Valentine stood near the window, practically glowing under the candlelight. With golden hair cascading over her shoulders and warm, expressive eyes, she was the embodiment of light against her husband's composed ad dignified presence.

"Lucien is only twenty! He should see the world, explore, experience new things!" she insisted, her voice brimming with enthusiasm. "Surely, you don't want him to grow old in this mansion without ever stepping beyond its gates? That would be far too tragic!"

Lord Valentine let out a quiet sigh, rubbing his temple as if he already was fighting a losing battle.

"Mother is absolutely right, Father," Lucien added smoothly, leaning against the desk with a playful smile. "If I am to lead this family, I should understand more than just our estate. Besides, you always say a ruler must be prepared for anything."

"And what exactly do you intend to prepare for?"

Lucien waved a hand vaguely. "Oh, you know—diplomatic relations, governance, strategy..." His expression remained light, but sharper glint flickered in his gaze. "And of course, broadening my horizons."

Lucien knew damn well he wasn't planning on doing all that work—his idea of broadening horizons usually involved more lounging and less politics.

But Mei Mei, who had been lurking anxiously near the doorway, gasped. "Young Master, that sounds far too troublesome!"

"Mei Mei, please, I can handle myself," Lucien said with a dismissive wave. "Besides, I have you, don't I?"

Mei Mei clutched his sleeves, his face scrunched with worry. "But, Young Master, you've never had to lift a finger for anything in your life! What will you do if—"

Lucien patted his personal butler's shoulder with an exaggerated sigh. "Mei Mei, Mei Mei... Have a little faith in me."

Lord Valentine watched the exchange before finally speaking. "You may go, Lucien" he said at last. "But this is not an escape. When you return, I expect you to be ready to take on your responsibilities."

Lucien's smile was all satisfaction. "Of course, Father. You'll see, I'll return more responsible than ever."

Victoria clasped her hands together in delight. "Oh, how exciting! My son, off on his first real adventure!"

Then, just as quickly, her enthusiasm wavered, and she hurried to his side, cupping his face. "But be careful, my darling. Eat well, don't stay up too late, and if you see anything suspicious, don't get involved!"

Lucien chuckled, "I promise, Mother."

But Victoria wasn't done. She turned to Louis, a sly smile forming. "Besides, dear Husband, don't act so strict—weren't you just as much of a troublemaker at his age?"

Louis barely reacted, merely giving his wife a long look. "That was different."

"Was it?" Victoria raised a delicate brow, clearly enjoying herself. "I distinctly remember hearing stories of a certain young noble sneaking out of the estate to challenge the knights into a duel—"

"That is enough, Victoria."

"And I recall someone being caught in the village square after causing a scene at a noble's banquet—"

"Victoria."

Lucien perked up at this, looking entirely too amused. "Father, I had no idea you were so lively in your youth!"

"That was a long time ago," Lord Valentine said flatly.

Victoria pouted dramatically. "Oh, come now, Louis, you turned out just fine! So why not let Lucien have a little fun before settling into his duties?"

Lord Valentine sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "...Fine. But he is still the family's heir. He cannot be reckless."

Lucien beamed. "See, Father? I'll be the very imagine of responsibility!"

Mei Mei groaned quietly. "This is already a disaster."

The grand study of the Valentine estate fell into a serene hush the moment the door closed behind Lucien.

The lingering echo of their son's playful words still hung in the air, but now, only two remained.

Lord Louis Valentine, ever composed and dignified, stood by the window, his sharp gaze fixed on the garden beyond.

His long, dark hair fell neatly over his shoulders, the very picture of an unshakable patriarch—at least to anyone else.

A quiet rustling of silk broke the silence as Victoria approached him.

Unlike her husband's cold exterior, she radiated warmth, her golden hair bouncing gently with each step.

"You know," she began softly, tilting her head as she stood beside him, "you could have been a little gentler. He's only twenty, Louis. Let him dream a little."

Lord Valentine scoffed quietly, though the faintest hint of tension eased from his shoulders. "Hmph. Dreaming is one thing. Gallivanting into danger is another."

His arms crossed as he cast her a sidelong glance. "He takes after you—reckless."

Victoria laughed, light and sweet, leaning into his shoulder without a care for his stoic front. "Oh? And what's wrong with that? I seem to recall a certain young lord once sneaking out past curfew to bring me flowers. What was it you said back then? Ah—'A proper lady shouldn't lower herself to pick wildflowers,' wasn't it?"

A faint pink dusted Louis's ears. He cleared his throat, gaze shifting sharply back to the window. "I was... ensuring you didn't catch cold. Your inability to dress warmly was concerning."

"Ah, yes. How thoughtful of you," she teased, her voice bright with affection. "And here I thought it was because you were madly in love with me."

A pause. His lips pressed together in a thin line—but he didn't deny it.

With a playful hum, Victoria tiptoed closer, her fingers lightly brushing against his arm. "You worry too much," she murmured, softer now. "Lucien is stronger than you think. And besides... isn't it nice to see him curious about the world?"

"He's already touched that power once, Louis—and even then, he came back to us. Let him discover the history of his family and the world outside. He'll be safe. His ancestors are watching over him, guiding him, just as they always have throughout the ages."

For a long moment, he didn't speak. But then—

"Vi."

Her heart skipped, warmth flooding her chest. That nickname—an old relic from their youth, one he only used when no one else was around.

Louis exhaled quietly, as if the word alone took more effort than it should have. "You... spoil him too much."

"And you pretend not to," she countered with a grin, leaning up to press a feather-light kiss against his jaw. "But you're just as soft when it comes to him."

His composure cracked, just barely. "Nonsense." But his hand—large, steady—rose to gently cup her wrist, holding her there for a second longer. "If he gets himself hurt, you'll be the one crying. Again."

"And you'll be the one pacing the halls all night."

"I do no such thing," he huffed, though the warmth in his voice betrayed his usual coldness.

Victoria laughed softly, letting her hand slip into his. "Of course not, my dearest Lou bear ."

His grip on her hand tightened immediately, violet eyes flashing with disbelief as his face burned red. "Do not call me that."

"But it suits you." She beamed up at him, utterly delighted by his rare flustered state. "So big and growly—my fierce, cuddly Lou."

"Victoria." His voice dropped an octave—a warning.

"Hmm?"

"...I should have left you in the garden."

"And yet, here we are." She tugged him gently, weaving their fingers together with ease. "You're hopeless without me, admit it."

He sighed—deep and defeated—but his hand never let go. "...Ridiculous woman."

"And you love me for it," she whispered, her eyes bright with affection.

For all his airs of dignity, all his rigid pride, Louis Valentine had no retort for that. He only pulled her closer—too stubborn to say the words aloud, but too weak to deny her warmth.

And in the quiet of the study, the Lord of the Valentine estate let himself soften—if only for her.

A few days later, as the grand gates of the Valentine house loomed behind them, Lucien stood beside a well-appointed carriage, the morning sun casting a golden glow over the path ahead.

"Young Master, I packed enough food, medicine, and blankets to last a year!" Mei Mei said, struggling under the weight of his overstuffed bags.

Lucien grinned, stepping into the carriage with ease.

"Always so dramatic, Mei Mei. We're going on a little trip, not a war campaign."

Victoria pulled him into one last embrace before he could sit down. "Be safe, Lucien. And write to me!"

"I will, Mother."

With a final glance at his father—who simply nodded in farewell—Lucien leaned back into the cushioned seat.

This journey wasn't just about 'learning' or 'experience'. It was about freedom, And, more importantly, it was about finding someone.

As the carriage rolled along the winding path, Lucien's gaze drifted to the window.

The grand Valentine manor, with its towering spires and endless marble corridors, grew smaller with each passing moment—fading into the distant horizon like a dream he was finally waking from.

For years, those walls had held him in a gilded cage, safe but bound. Now, as the wheels creaked softly beneath him and the crisp morning air stirred against his cheek, he felt the weight of that world begin to slip away.

He touched the butterfly charm on his wrist, a quiet smile curving his lips.

Whatever awaited him beyond the estate, he was ready to meet it.

...