Chapter 21 – The Weight of Expectation

The dining hall was quiet, save for the gentle clink of silverware against porcelain. A warm glow from the chandelier cast long shadows across the table, yet the silence felt heavier than usual.

Adrian sat across from his parents, with Lyra next to him, happily kicking her legs as she ate. The food was the same as always—rich, flavorful dishes carefully prepared by the estate's finest cooks. But tonight, he barely tasted anything.

Something felt different.

Elena's gaze lingered on him, her sharp blue eyes searching for something. She wasn't asking questions—not directly. But she didn't need to. Her eyes spoke louder than words.

Cedric, on the other hand, remained his usual composed self, eating in silence. But Adrian wasn't fooled. His father had been watching him ever since he entered the room, taking in every detail—the way he carried himself, the subtle shift in his posture, the faint calluses forming on his palms.

It was as if he were waiting for something.

Lyra, unaware of the quiet tension, swung her legs back and forth, taking another bite of bread before looking up at Adrian.

"Big brother, why are you sitting so straight?" she asked suddenly, tilting her head. "You look like Papa when he's mad at someone."

Adrian blinked.

Cedric glanced at him briefly before taking a slow sip of his wine.

Elena sighed. "Lyra, let your brother eat."

"But he's different!" Lyra insisted, her sapphire eyes locking onto Adrian's with childlike curiosity. "Even his eyes look different! Like—like the sky before it rains!"

Adrian stiffened slightly.

He hadn't noticed it before, but ever since he returned from the Nightmare Realm, there had been a subtle shift in his vision. Colors were sharper, movements clearer—everything felt more… alive.

His mother must have noticed it too, because her gaze softened. "Your brother has been through a lot," she said gently. "Give him time."

Cedric set down his glass with a quiet clink. "Time may not be something we have in abundance."

Adrian turned his attention to his father, sensing the shift in conversation. Cedric leaned back slightly, his expression unreadable.

"A letter arrived earlier today," he said. "From the House of Varell."

Adrian didn't react, though he recognized the name. The Varells were an old noble family, known for their deep political ties and strong military presence. They had never shown direct interest in him before.

Elena's lips pressed into a thin line. "I don't like it."

"They're extending an invitation," Cedric continued as if he hadn't heard her. "To Adrian. A formal gathering—one that will be attended by various noble heirs."

Adrian set his fork down carefully. "And the reason?"

"They claim it's an opportunity to meet others your age," Cedric said. "But their timing is… convenient."

The implication was clear.

Word had already spread—about Adrian's "failed" awakening. The rumors would paint him as a noble son who had no future, someone who would forever live in his father's shadow. The invitation was not an act of kindness.

It was a test.

"Do I need to accept?" Adrian asked evenly.

Cedric studied him for a moment. "That depends. Do you want to?"

Silence.

Elena sighed, rubbing her temples. "This is political maneuvering," she muttered. "Nothing more. If Adrian goes, they'll be watching his every move."

"And if he doesn't," Cedric said, "they'll see it as weakness."

Adrian exhaled slowly. It was always like this. The games nobles played, the hidden knives behind every word.

Lyra, still too young to understand the weight of the conversation, tugged on Adrian's sleeve. "Are you going, big brother?"

He glanced at her—at her innocent expression, unburdened by the world's expectations.

"I don't know yet," he admitted.

Her brows furrowed. "Then tell them no! I don't like them."

Cedric chuckled at that, a rare sound that made Elena give him a knowing look. "Spoken like your mother," he said.

Elena rolled her eyes. "She's right, though."

Adrian didn't say anything. He simply nodded, finishing the rest of his meal in silence.

Later that night, as he lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, the System stirred.

[ The path forward requires understanding oneself. ]

Adrian frowned. It wasn't a command. It wasn't a mission.

It was a choice.

For the first time, the System wasn't telling him what to do.

It was waiting.

For him to decide.

Third-Person POV – Cedric's Thoughts

Cedric stood by his study window, staring at the darkened courtyard. He swirled the wine in his glass but didn't drink.

Tonight had confirmed what he already suspected.

Adrian had changed.

The way he moved, the way he spoke—subtle things, barely noticeable to anyone else. But Cedric had spent his life reading people, and his son was no exception.

He had expected to see frustration, uncertainty. Instead, there was something else.

A quiet, growing certainty.

That was what unsettled him the most.

Most young men his age would have lashed out at the rumors, sought to prove themselves out of wounded pride. But Adrian?

He was waiting.

Watching.

And that made Cedric more certain than ever—his son would not remain in the shadows for long.