Chapter 835: Honest conversation between Julian and Clara
Countess Clara Azmed stepped inside.
She had prepared herself carefully and the thin nightgown from earlier was gone. In its place she wore a deep wine-red gown of heavy silk that clung to the mature lines of her body without being openly scandalous. The neckline was modest by court standards, yet the cut still emphasized the soft swell of her breasts and the elegant curve of her shoulders. The fabric followed the narrow dip of her waist before flowing over the rounded shape of her hips.
A single long slit ran along one side of the skirt, revealing a glimpse of her delicate legs. Her hair had been loosely pinned up and a few soft strands framed her face. There was no heavy jewelry, only a thin gold chain at her throat and the wedding ring that still sat on her finger. She looked every bit the composed, graceful countess.
Her expression was calm, but her eyes carried the same quiet wariness he had noticed in the courtyard.
"Kraven," she said, closing the door behind her with a soft click. "I hope I am not interrupting."
Julian turned fully to face her and offered a polite bow of the head.
"Not at all, Countess. Please." He gestured toward the sitting area near the window. "I was not expecting a visit, but you are welcome."
Clara did not sit immediately. She remained standing a few steps inside the room, her gaze moving briefly across the space. She could feel the faint warmth from his earlier cultivation, the neat arrangement of the chamber and the open window that let in the late afternoon air. When her eyes returned to him, they were steady.
"I wished to speak with you privately," she said. "About my daughter."
Julian’s expression remained composed, though a small spark of interest moved behind his eyes. He had expected this eventually. He simply had not expected it so soon.
"Of course," he replied. "Please, sit. Whatever concerns you have, I am willing to hear them."
Clara finally crossed to the chair he had indicated and lowered herself into it. The silk of her skirt whispered softly against the floor as she sat.
Julian took the seat opposite of her, keeping a respectful distance. The late sunlight caught the edge of her hair and the soft line of her throat. He waited.
Clara drew a quiet breath.
"I will be direct," she said. "I do not fully trust the change everyone claims to see in you. I have heard the old stories. I have watched the way certain people still look at you. And I will not place my daughter’s future in the hands of a man I do not understand. So I came myself. I want to see who you are when there is no audience."
Julian met her gaze without flinching.
"That is fair," he said. "Most mothers would not be so honest. Or so brave."
A faint flicker of surprise crossed her face at the lack of defensiveness.
"I am not here for flattery, Kraven."
"I know." He leaned back slightly. "You are here because you love your daughter more than any alliance. And because you have already seen enough to wonder whether the man in front of you is still the same one from the rumors... or something else."
Clara’s fingers tightened almost imperceptibly in her lap.
Julian continued.
"I will not insult you by pretending the past did not exist. But I will say this... the person who was exiled from this duchy is not the one sitting across from you now. And if you are willing to stay a little longer... I can show you a part of what changed me."
Clara scoffed.
"Kraven, you know we do not have enough time," she said. "We left the county in the hands of the elders and came here only because of you. My husband trusts you a great deal... more than I expected him to. And surprisingly... Elara seems to have developed some affection for you as well."
She paused.
"But I cannot trust you."
Julian smiled at that. There was no offense in the expression, only acceptance, as if he had already anticipated every word.
"That’s fair," he replied calmly. "But it is what it is, Aunty Clara."
The title landed heavier than he expected.
Clara’s expression shifted at once. The composed mask of the countess flickered. For a brief moment, surprise, discomfort and perhaps even a faint trace of disgust crossed her face. Being called "Aunty" by the young man she still regarded as a potential threat to her daughter clearly unsettled her. It was too familiar, too intimate for the distance she was trying to maintain.
She recovered quickly, but the reaction had already been noted.
Julian leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on his knees. His tone remained polite, but there was a new intensity beneath it.
"Then tell me," he said. "What would make you believe in me?"
Clara did not answer immediately. She studied him with the careful eyes of a mother who had spent years protecting what she loved.
"I do not know if anything can," she said at last. "Words are easy. Even actions can be performed for an audience. You defeated my daughter in a duel and showed restraint. You speak with composure. You wear the face of a changed man. But I have seen enough of the world to know that surfaces can be polished while the core remains the same."
Her fingers tightened slightly in her lap.
"If you truly wish for my trust, Lord Kraven, then you will have to give me something more than carefully chosen words and a polite smile. Something that cannot be faked in an afternoon."
Julian held her gaze without looking away. The mischievous edge that sometimes lived behind his eyes remained carefully hidden. In its place was a calm, almost respectful attention that made the moment feel heavier than a simple conversation.
"Then stay," he said quietly. "Not for long. Just long enough for me to show you one of the things that actually changed me. If afterward you still feel the same... I will not argue. I will even support whatever decision you make regarding Elara."
Clara’s eyes narrowed slightly at the offer.
"And what exactly do you intend to show me?"
Julian’s voice remained steady.
"Mana," he said.