Desperation

Damien stared blankly at the ornate ceiling of his bedroom, fingers idly tracing the patterns on the silken covers beneath him. It was finally Sunday. A sense of quiet relief spread warmly through him. It had only been a day, experiencing his life as Damien, yet the relentless torture of lessons now haunted him. Quickly, Damien had learned that weekends were rare pockets of respite. With his tutors absent, the sprawling estate felt peaceful, cloaked in a gentle stillness that encouraged exploration.

"Today's the day, system."

Once it was called, the system appeared, hovering above Damien as always.

System: [Will you be finding Lukas today?]

"Yeah, since I have no lessons today. It's the perfect opportunity to start the task mission."

Damien shifted gently under the plush covers, eyes fixed on the elaborately carved doorway of his bedroom. Morning sunlight spilled warmly through tall windows, illuminating intricate patterns on velvet curtains and glinting softly against polished wood. Yesterday, a member of the staff had quietly entered at precisely this time, carefully orchestrating his morning with practiced precision. Yet today, silence lingered, unbroken by the gentle knock or subtle rustle that signaled their arrival.

He sat up cautiously, brushing a few stray strands of dark hair from his forehead. His fingers tightened slightly on the silk sheets beneath him, his brow furrowing as time passed.

"Is no one coming today?" Damien asked carefully, voice quiet with uncertainty. "What's going on?"

System: [If host means the maid from yesterday, then not yet.]

Damien glanced hovering cube and asked in confusion. "What? Why? Did something happen?"

System: [To further explain, your parents are both away today. When this happens, the original Damien would pull the bell pull beside the bed to call for a staff member. You can request them to prepare breakfast in your room or in the dining room.]

Damien's gaze drifted slowly toward the intricately woven rope and tassel to his left. It shimmered as though it were a newly bought rope, free from even a speck of dust.

He reached out, fingers lightly brushing against the cool, soft cord, feeling strangely hesitant to use it. A gentle breath slipped through his lips, tinted with quiet disbelief. "Wow," he murmured softly, almost to himself. "To actually have people at your beck and call… I can hardly imagine it."

The system replied to his comment by circling around him in amusement, sensing the complex swirl of Damien's emotions.

System: [Host, you will have to get accustomed to it. The host wanted to not attract attention and slowly change personality, right?]

He sat back, pulling the covers around himself more tightly, contemplating the weight of that statement. Damien's eyes closed, the comfort around him foreign and overwhelming. Everything here, from the servants to the fine furnishings, was so effortlessly luxurious—yet it felt restrictive, subtly pressing on him in ways he had yet to fully understand.

With a small sigh, Damien let his hand fall away from the bell. Perhaps, he would allow himself a moment of quiet independence—a brief time to gather his thoughts and plan a way to complete the mission.

Rolling off the bed, Damien landed lightly on his feet, padding softly across the lush carpet towards his study table. He sat down on the wing chair and began to formulate in his head.

The system, curious, flew nearer.

System: [Host?]

He propped his head up with one arm, deep in thought. "I'm thinking about how to approach Lukas."

Then, his gaze fell to his desk. Spread across the wooden surface were neatly stacked papers and textbooks, remnants of yesterday's lessons—math, history, etiquette. His brows knitted slightly at the overwhelming sight. Damien's small fingers brushed over the books.

"That's it!" Damien shouted, suddenly standing up and causing the system to tumble in the air.

System: [H-Host, don't scare this system! What did you decide on—]

But before the system could even finish, Damien gathered his homework sheets, clutching them to his chest, and bolted out the door.

System: [Host! Wait!]

...

With a quickening heartbeat, Damien made his way through the sprawling halls, footsteps echoing softly against the marble tiles. He found Lukas in the grand library, seated by a large window, bathed in golden morning sunlight. Lukas looked serene, elegant even in his casual attire, absorbed in a thick leather-bound book.

"Lukas?"

The sound of his name in Damien's gentle voice caused Lukas to jolt slightly. He looked up quickly, eyes wide with surprise and confusion. Damien had never approached him so openly before.

"Damien?" Lukas's voice cracked, throat suddenly dry as he took in his younger brother's earnest gaze. "Do you... need something?"

Damien stepped closer, his eyes large and sincere, filled with hesitant warmth. "I—I can't figure out my homework..." Damien admitted softly. "Could you help me?"

Lukas's breath caught sharply in his chest, heart skipping erratically as warmth flooded his cheeks. Damien was asking him—him—out of everyone in their enormous household.

Lukas fought to keep his expression neutral, but inside he was trembling.

Memories surged unwantedly—his mother's stern eyes, her voice echoing clearly:

"Lukas, step back. Damien doesn't need you like this. You must not stoop so low."

"You are an heir, you must act like it."

His mother's voice tightened his chest painfully, fear clawing at the edges of his mind. Lukas quickly closed his book, eyes casting downward to hide his turmoil.

"I can't." Lukas murmured, his tone colder than intended. He stood abruptly, pushing past Damien without meeting his eyes. "Ask Emerson or someone else."

Damien stood rooted, the earnest and warm gaze replaced with a calm and calculated look unbefitting of a young boy. He watched Lukas hastily leave the library, his tiny hands gripping the homework sheets tighter.

Hidden in a secluded nook behind heavy drapes in the drawing room, Lukas pressed himself against the wall, chest heaving with suppressed sobs. His heart twisted painfully, hot tears pricking his eyes, spilling down his reddening cheeks. He angrily swiped at them with the back of his hand, lips trembling into a small, pouting frown as he quietly sniffled.

"Stupid," Lukas whispered shakily to himself, face flushed and cheeks bulging adorably with unshed tears. "You're so stupid."

"..."

Outside the room, Damien stood quietly, hearing every soft hiccup and muffled sob. His heart sank deeper, the heaviness weighing heavily on his tiny frame. It reminded him of his own childhood, the happiness ripped away from him at an early age, crying alone displaying a strong facade.

Damien didn't know how long he stood there, but he stayed—silently—until Lukas stopped crying.

Quietly something in his heart shifted.

...

Monday arrived too soon, the familiar sounds of the bustling estate breaking the weekend's spell. Damien sat attentively before his primary tutor, Emerson, the young scholar with sharp, intelligent eyes and a warm smile. As the lesson concluded, Damien hesitated, gathering courage before finally speaking.

"Teacher Emerson," Damien began cautiously, "Do you know... what Lukas likes?"

Emerson paused, startled yet intrigued by Damien's earnest expression. A gentle smile curved his lips. "Lukas? Well..." Emerson mused thoughtfully, "He enjoys quiet places, reading stories about knights and adventures. And sweets—he loves lemon tarts especially."

What a coincidence... They're mine too...

Damien nodded, absorbing every detail with utmost seriousness. From that moment, Damien set his mission into action.

Every day, Damien appeared at Lukas's side, small hands outstretched offering delicately wrapped boxes filled with small lemon tarts. Lukas was polite but distant, accepting the treats with whispered thanks but quickly retreating.

"Lukas, let's play!" Damien's voice was bright, hopeful each afternoon as he stood at the threshold of Lukas's study. Yet Lukas remained withdrawn, eyes flickering with suppressed longing and fear, retreating into his books and solitude.

One particularly dreary afternoon, grey clouds gathered overhead, heavy with impending rain. Damien, refusing to be deterred, stood stubbornly beneath Lukas's bedroom window, hands pressed against the glass, small face peering upward with hopeful insistence.

"Come on, Lukas! Just for a bit?"

Rain began to fall, soft droplets pattering gently, quickly soaking Damien's hair and clothes, making him shiver slightly. Still, he persisted, small fists lightly tapping the windowpane. Lukas, seated stiffly inside, stared down, heart clenched painfully at the sight of Damien's earnest, rain-soaked figure.

Lukas gripped his book tighter, forcing himself not to respond, each heartbeat punctuated by the soft tapping outside. "I can't..." He whispered to himself, voice trembling.

"Lukas!" Damien's voice cracked, desperation finally creeping into his youthful tone.

"Please!"

Lukas shut his eyes tightly, breathing deeply to calm the storm raging inside him, his resolve cracking. Memories collided harshly within him, his mother's voice at war with the gentle pleading outside.

Then, the system's cold voice echoed in his head.

System: [Host, any more time outside and there's a 100% chance you'll get sick.]

What? Is my body that weak? Dammit.

The system stayed silent.

Damien finally stepped back, small shoulders drooping in defeat as he turned away. His slow retreat was heartbreakingly silent, leaving Lukas alone, guilt-ridden and aching, unable to shake the image of Damien's pleading gaze from his mind.

As Damien disappeared from view, Lukas curled tightly into himself, burying his face in trembling hands.

"I'm sorry, Damien..." Lukas choked out softly, fresh tears staining his flushed cheeks. "I'm so sorry."

Unseen by either brother, Emerson stood in the shadowed corridor nearby, observing silently with sadness etched deeply into his features. His gentle heart ached for both brothers, understanding too well the invisible chains of expectations that bound both of them.

Emerson squinted, uncertainty furrowing his brow as unease tightened his chest. He was only planning to observe but seeing Damien walk in the rain and standing alone beneath the dark oppressive skies, worried him.

"Young master?" He murmured softly to himself, confusion edging his voice as he took a hesitant step closer.

Just as Emerson began moving forward, Damien's slender frame suddenly swayed, knees buckling weakly beneath him. The child crumpled gracefully yet alarmingly onto the wet ground, limbs folding beneath him in a silent surrender.

Emerson's breath hitched sharply, eyes widening in a flash as panic surged through him. Without another thought, he dropped the files from his hands, papers scattering chaotically onto the dampened stone walkway.

"Damien!" Emerson's voice cracked urgently, raw and frantic. He launched himself forward, feet splashing heavily through puddles, disregarding the cold that immediately soaked through his clothing. His heartbeat thundered in his ears, a frantic rhythm that matched his desperate strides as he reached the small, collapsed figure.

"Damien, can you hear me?" He pleaded breathlessly, kneeling quickly beside the boy and gently lifting the child's rain-soaked head onto his lap. Emerson brushed away wet strands of hair from Damien's pale forehead, eyes darting anxiously across the boy's delicate features in search of signs of injury. Emerson quickly glanced around, noting with rising alarm the absence of any servants nearby. With no other choice left, he carefully lifted Damien into his arms, holding him securely as he stood.

"Hold on, Damien." He whispered fiercely, urgency fuelling him forward as he raced toward the safety and warmth of main residence, each step echoing his distress and determination.

Around them, the rain continued relentlessly, oblivious to the quiet desperation unfolding.