Chapter 10: The Vespera Bastard
The guest room was too warm.
Caelus sat across from Elysia, a cup of untouched tea cooling between his hands. The furniture was expensive. The carpets were imported. The windows overlooked the eastern gardens.
None of it mattered.
Tea.
Of course.
Humans always served tea before discussing life-changing political decisions.
Apparently anxiety paired well with jasmine.
Mira had served the tea with practiced efficiency. Her hands didn’t tremble this time. Her expression was perfectly neutral. She’d recovered her composure somewhere between the carriage and the guest wing.
The silver tray gleamed under the afternoon light. The cups were porcelain, delicate and expensive, and she set them down with quiet precision.
Then she left.
The door clicked shut behind her.
Silence stretched.
Caelus stared at his tea. Elysia stared at hers. Neither of them spoke.
The afternoon light filtered through the windows and dust particles drifted in the golden beams. The clock on the mantle ticked. Once. Twice. Three times.
Elysia stirred her tea. The spoon made soft circles against the porcelain. Her movements were unhurried and controlled.
Caelus didn’t touch his tea.
She noticed.
He noticed she noticed.
Neither of them acknowledged it.
Finally—
"So."
Elysia set down her cup. The porcelain made a soft sound against the saucer.
"You seemed... disappointed."
Caelus blinked.
Disappointed?
That’s not—
I wasn’t—
He fumbled.
"I—"
He stopped and collected himself, his hands steady now. His voice was calm when he spoke again.
"It’s not that I’m against it." He set down his own cup. The porcelain clinked against the saucer. "But we can’t just get engaged for political reasons without having affection for each other."
"There’s no point."
And being engaged to a character I wrote feels weird too.
Extremely weird.
Now she’s sitting across from him, drinking tea, discussing marriage.
I don’t recommend this experience.
She chuckled slightly, almost imperceptible. A small curve at the corner of her lips.
"That’s why we’re getting engaged, isn’t it?"
He stared at her.
What?
That doesn’t—
That’s not how—
He had enough.
In both his lives, he’d learned the same lesson. People always wanted something from him first.
Affection merely made the negotiations easier.
Friends who disappeared when he stopped being useful. Relatives who stopped visiting when the hospital bills got too high. His sister—
He sighed.
He was tired. Tired of playing hide and seek. Tired of decoding hidden agendas. Tired of pretending people approached him without ulterior motives.
Nobody smiled without a reason.
Especially nobles.
Especially beautiful nobles.
Especially beautiful nobles from powerful families.
He straightened in his chair.
"I appreciate your positivity to this," he said. His voice was calm and controlled. "But let’s be real."
He met her eyes.
"Let’s skip the polite version."
Silence spread.
Caelus absentmindedly took one sip.
"You want something." He set down his cup. "No need to beat around the bush. Be direct."
Elysia was quiet for a long moment. Her white eyes studied him, unblinking. Her expression was unreadable, an expression that had been perfected over years of dealing with difficult people.
Then—
"This is going to be easy then."
She folded her hands on the table. Her posture was perfect and elegant.
"Do you have any idea of becoming the Patriarch of this house? Or an elder?"
Caelus smirked internally and externally.
"Yes."
I can’t become Patriarch for obvious reasons. Being the third son. The bastard. The disappointment.
But an elder...that’s necessary.
And it’s actually possible.
If I survive long enough that is.
He kept his expression neutral.
"That’s what I thought," Elysia continued. "My family wants that. That’s why they engaged me to you."
"They threw their only daughter to me just because they want someone of an elder status?"
"And you just said yes?"
He studied her. Tried to find any sign of discomfort. Any sign that she resented being used as a bargaining chip.
There was nothing.
Her expression remained perfectly composed.
"You don’t understand the value of the Vespera Archive to my family," she said.
The Archive. Of course.
Centuries of knowledge. Forbidden techniques. Lost histories. Ancient secrets that no one else possesses.
Everything House Sylvaris has been chasing for generations.
And they sent their daughter to get it.
Their most valuable asset.
They traded their daughter for generations of knowledge.
Part of him had hoped she approached without any ulterior motives.
But that was impossible.
It was never about him. It was never about Caelus or Lark. It was always about what he could provide.
He smiled.
His eyes remained still.
"I’m sorry, but I have no intention of becoming engaged to someone I don’t have emotions for." He paused. "So if all this is just a play for you—"
He paused again, let the words hang.
"You’re deeply mistaken."
He stood and fastened his sleeve. The motion was deliberate and controlled.
I don’t have time for political theater.
"Thank you for coming here. Enjoy your tea."
He turned toward the door.
"Excuse me. I’ll have to go for now. I have matters to attend to."
Time to check the limits of my body and Affinity.
Time to see what he can actually do.
---
The door clicked shut behind him.
Elysia sat alone in the guest room.
Her tea was still warm, but she didn’t drink it.
She stared at the door.
My grandmother was right.
She remembered the day it happened, A day before the duel. Her grandmother, the greatest seer alive, had been in a critical condition for months.
Bedridden and unresponsive, speaking only in fragments that no one could understand.
The family had gathered around her bed. Waiting and hoping. Preparing for the worst.
Then—
Her eyes had opened.
For the first time in months, she’d looked at someone.
At Elysia.
Her voice had been barely a whisper. Raspy. Broken. But the words had been clear.
"Watch..."
"...The Vespera bastard...."
Then she’d closed her eyes.
And died.
The silence in that room had been absolute. No one had spoken. No one had moved.
Elysia had simply stared at her grandmother’s face. At the peaceful expression that had replaced the pain.
Watch over the Vespera bastard.
Why?
What did she see?
What did she know?
What was coming?
The entire family had gathered afterward. Whispers had spread through the corridors like wildfire.
Elysia’s father had made his decision immediately, without hesitation.
"You are engaged to Caelus Vespera."
"Watch him."
She hadn’t argued.
She’d simply nodded.
That was her duty, her purpose. She was a daughter of House Sylvaris. She obeyed her family, she served her family.
She sacrificed for her family. She had always believed that was enough.
But now—
She watched the door.
He’d actually rejected her.
She searched her memories. Had anyone ever refused House Sylvaris before?
She couldn’t remember one.
No one rejected House Sylvaris. Even if their motives were selfish, no one rejected her. She was beautiful, intelligent, and powerful. A prize that families had fought over for years.
And he’d walked away.
He wasn’t the man she’d come to observe.
That was the problem.
Yesterday’s Caelus had been desperate. Desperate for the Saintess, desperate for recognition, desperate for anything that would prove he mattered.
He’d thrown himself at anyone who showed him even a scrap of attention.
Today’s Caelus was different.
He’d walked away from House Sylvaris itself. From everything she represented.
No one walks away from House Sylvaris.
No one.
She picked up her tea, finally. The cup was warm against her palms.
She took a sip.
It was still good. Still perfectly brewed. The servants of House Vespera knew their craft.
My grandmother saw something I don’t understand yet.
Something that made her speak after months of silence.
Something important enough to be her last words.
She set down the cup.
This is going to be difficult.
Grandmother...
What exactly did you see?