Chapter 9: "...You Don’t?"
The carriage rolled through the gates of House Vespera.
Caelus watched the familiar spires rise against the afternoon sky. Dark stone and ancient architecture that had stood for centuries and would stand for centuries more.
A building that had never once felt like home.
The servants in the courtyard froze the moment they saw him.
A tray slipped from someone’s hands the silver clattering against stone. The sound echoed through the sudden silence.
A maid stared as though she’d seen a ghost. Her mouth opened then closed. Opened again and her face went pale.
Another servant dropped into a hasty bow. Then immediately looked confused about whether that was appropriate.
They had expected a coffin.
Instead...
The corpse had come home.
Caelus climbed out of the carriage, his knees buckled.
Just for a heartbeat and he hated that heartbeat.
He caught himself on the doorframe, His knuckles going white. Then he straightened, forcing his body to cooperate.
Every servant pretended not to watch him pass.
The silence followed him through the entrance hall, past the portraits of ancestors who had built this house and past the ancient tapestries indicating battles long forgotten.
Past the servants who quickly looked away when he met their eyes.
His family were nowhere to be seen.
No one to congratulate him.
They probably already knew the duel’s result.
And had probably decided it wasn’t worth discussing.
It was, after all, Tuesday.
World-shaking events apparently happened every Tuesday if your last name was Vespera.
The healing potion had fixed his body.
Unfortunately, it had forgotten to ask his brain.
Every step made him want to lie down and have a talk with death, his muscles still ached from the strain of the fight and his chest still burned where the blade had pierced him.
His arms shook from parrying blows that should have killed him.
His stomach churned. Nausea rose and fell with each breath, the healing potion had closed his wounds, but it hadn’t replaced the blood he’d lost or restored the energy he’d spent.
He straightened anyway.
I’m a Vespera.
Dignity first.
Passing out second.
He walked through the corridors. Past the study where his father worked and past the training grounds where his brothers trained.
Past the empty rooms where his mother had once—
He reached his bedroom.
The door closed behind him.
He stood there for a moment. His body screamed at him and his legs threatened to give out. His vision swam at the edges.
Then—
He collapsed onto the bed.
Face-first and arms spread, every muscle in his body screaming in protest. The silk sheets were cool against his skin. Soft and comfortable. The kind of luxury he’d never appreciated until now.
He didn’t move.
He just lay there, breathing.
I survived.
The thought came quietly, almost disbelief.
He laughed.
Just enough to convince himself he was still alive. It came out broken and slightly hysterical.
He pressed his face into the pillow.
-Knock.
"...Life refuses to let me rest."
"Young Master!"
The door burst open.
Mira stormed in. Her hair was slightly disheveled and her eyes were wide. She looked like she’d been running.
"You’re supposed to be at lunch!"
Caelus didn’t move.
"Father ordered everyone to lunch!"
He still didn’t.
"No, Mira. I’m simply too insignificant to bask in their presence."
Her eye twitched, "Get up."
"Can’t."
"Why not?"
"Died."
She grabbed his arm and tried to pull him upright. He raised his eyes at her directness then he went limp and refused to cooperate.
"Get up!"
"I’m dead. You’re disturbing a corpse."
"I will pour water on you."
"That’s fine. Water is my Affinity."
She made a sound of pure frustration. Her face reddened as her hands clenched into fists.
Then—
"...Your fiancée is here."
Caelus went still.
Wait.
What?
He sat there for thirty seconds, still processing.
...Damnation.
...
The shower was cold.
He stood under the water. Let it run down his face and his shoulders. Across the wound that was already healing.
The water was sharp against his skin. Grounding and real.
He stared at the mirror through the steam.
Yesterday—
This body belonged to a fictional character.
Today—
It belonged to him.
He thought about Elysia.
White hair and white pupils that looked so pure you forgot all your worries. The face that made people grateful just for its presence.
He remembered writing her.
Twenty-three lines.
That was all she’d received.
Twenty-three lines to erase an entire life.
He’d given her a villain role. A villainess who existed to make the Hero look better than before. A woman whose death was barely mentioned, a footnote in someone else’s story.
At the time—
It had only been good pacing.
Standing here now—
It felt disturbingly close to murder.
How many lives did I ruin?
How many people did I kill?
Just because the story demanded it?
He pushed the thoughts away.
He dried himself then dressed in formal black clothing with blue accents. He straightened his collar with his hands shaking.
He forced them still.
He walked toward the dining room and every step felt heavier than the last.
The corridor stretched before him. Long. Empty and silent. The portraits on the walls watched him pass.
He stopped outside the door.
Hand on the handle.
Deep breath.
Why was talking to family harder than fighting the Hero?
He pushed the door open.
The dining room was quiet.
His father sat at the head of the table. Black hair and sculpted sharp features. Black eyes that seemed to absorb light. Aldric Vespera. The Patriarch, the man who had never once congratulated his son on anything.
His siblings sat on either side. His brother Azrael with brows raised, then his sister Selene, clicking her tongue as she looked at him.
Bothe sat on opposite sides of the table.
Elysia sat across selene.
White hair tucked behind her ears, her snow white pupils locking with his as he entered. Her expression was calm and untroubled.
She wore a simple dress, elegant but understated. Her hands rested on the table, still and controlled.
Nobody said congratulations or even mentioned the duel.
The silence said enough.
Caelus took his seat. And they started eat in silence.
He realized halfway through he had no idea what he’d just eaten. The food must be excellent, but caelus barely tasted it.
None of it mattered.
He noticed Elysia watching him.
Studying and analyzing him like a puzzle.
She tilted her head slightly and her white eyes narrowed, a flash passing through them. Then she looked away.
He looked away too.
His father spoke.
"The duel."
Caelus answered.
"Enlightening."
"I gained experience."
"And useful materials."
Aldric nodded.
The silence that followed was heavier than an entire conversation.
The meal ended.
Aldric set down his utensils. The sound of silver against porcelain was deafening in the quiet room.
"Will you cease pursuing the Saintess?"
Caelus didn’t hesitate.
"Yes."
Aldric studied him. His black eyes were unreadable and Calculating. The silence stretched.
Then—
"What are your thoughts regarding your engagement with Lady Elysia?"
Finally, someone sensible.
Caelus opened his mouth.
"I think it should be cance—"
"I agreed to continue the engagement."
Elysia’s voice cut through the room.
Calm and unhurried.
"I spoke with my father. He requested that our engagement continue."
The silence that followed was absolute.
Caelus stared at her, his smile freezing halfway, his brain short-circuited.
What?
Why?
She doesn’t even like me.
She’s supposed to—
She blinked, her white lashes fluttering and her pupils widening, and tilted her head.
"...You don’t?"
Caelus forgot how language worked.