Chapter 1071: Alexander’s Child
The ache behind Lucavion’s eye faded slowly.
It withdrew in uneven pulses, leaving a dull pressure along his temple and the lingering impression of rain striking a window that did not belong to his dormitory. He kept his fingers against the blanket until the room settled into its proper shape again: the low ward-lamp, the open pane, the pale curtain moving in the winter air.
Vitaliara remained upon the windowsill.
She had respected the gesture asking for silence, though her attention never left him. Her golden eyes followed each change in his breathing, and the tip of her tail had gone still against the stone.
When Lucavion finally straightened, she waited another breath before stepping down.
Her paws met the floor without sound. She crossed the room, leapt onto the bed, and stopped near his knee rather than returning to her earlier place beside his wrist.
[Does that happen often?]
Lucavion lowered his hand from his temple.
’Often enough.’
[That is not reassuring.]
’It was not meant to be.’
Vitaliara studied him. The pain had receded, but she could still feel the disturbance it had left behind. His vitality had tightened around the memory as though attempting to close a wound from the inside, while the Flame of Equinox moved faintly beneath it, balancing the strain before it spread farther.
She had seen his body endure worse.
That did not make this easier to watch.
[You remembered something.]
Lucavion looked toward the lamp.
’A fragment.’
[Of her.]
The statement required no name.
He remained silent long enough to answer her anyway.
Vitaliara stepped closer.
[The woman in Hall C was not a stranger.]
’No.’
The admission came more easily than the rest.
Vitaliara’s ears angled forward. She had expected another partial reply, perhaps a turn of phrase which acknowledged the question while placing the answer beyond reach. Instead, he had given her one clean truth and closed his expression around everything surrounding it.
[You knew her before.]
’Yes.’
[For how long?]
Lucavion’s mouth curved faintly.
’You ask questions as though time offers useful answers.’
[Humans usually believe it does.]
’Humans are frequently mistaken.’
Her tail moved once across the blanket.
[You recognized Elara before I did, and now this woman reaches into memories strong enough to cause pain. I am permitted some curiosity.]
’Permitted?’
[Do not distract me with the word.]
Lucavion exhaled quietly and leaned back, bracing one hand against the mattress. The movement appeared relaxed, though Vitaliara caught the stiffness remaining in his shoulders.
She had watched him among enemies often enough to understand the difference.
Lucavion became quieter around danger. His vitality narrowed, gathering toward the places where movement might begin. Fear, anger, and killing intent each changed the shape slightly, yet they all travelled in a direction she recognized.
In Hall C, Isolde had produced something else.
[When she approached you, your vitality pulled against itself.]
His gaze returned to her.
’That sounds uncomfortable.’
[It was uncomfortable to observe.]
’My apologies.’
[I am serious.]
The humour left his expression by a degree.
Vitaliara continued before he could close the subject.
[Part of you prepared as it does before an attack. Another part responded as though her presence were familiar enough to lower your guard. You corrected both reactions almost immediately, but they had already occurred.]
Lucavion’s fingers shifted against the blanket.
[From my understanding, I would say you are distrustful of her, but...] Vitaliara said. [You also remembered how to be near her.]
The sentence settled between them.
Beyond the window, wind travelled along the Academy walls and stirred a distant chime. Lucavion listened until the note faded.
’You have become rather intrusive.’
[I have always been intrusive. You usually find it useful.]
’Usually.’
[And now?]
’Now you are asking about something I have yet to understand myself.’
That answer slowed her.
Vitaliara had expected refusal, secrecy, perhaps the careful silence he used whenever another person’s truth rested behind his own. Uncertainty was rarer. Lucavion disliked admitting that a matter had escaped the boundaries of his understanding, especially when the matter involved his past.
She settled upon her haunches.
[Her name was Isolde Valoria.]
Lucavion’s attention sharpened.
[The students said it several times. That girl’s roster confirmed it.]
’That girl?’
[You know who I am talking about?]
’She is quite an adult, you know. She is called Magister Selenne, after all.’
[She is still a girl in my eyes.]
’Is that so?’
[It is. But do not try to divert from the topic.]
’Sigh....’
[That surname....Valoria.]
The surname carried a different weight in Vitaliara’s voice.
Her gaze drifted toward the window as an older memory rose through her. A camp beneath cedar trees. Gerald seated near a low fire, his hands occupied with the maintenance of a sword that had required no maintenance at all. The conversation around him had turned toward noble houses, then Loria, then a name he had received with a stillness far colder than anger.
Alexander Valoria.
Vitaliara remembered the way Gerald’s mana had tightened before his expression changed.
[Gerald spoke that name once.]
Lucavion said nothing.
[Alexander Valoria.]
The ward-lamp hummed softly.
Vitaliara’s eyes returned to him.
[He hated that man.]
Lucavion’s expression barely shifted.
’Hated?’
[That is the word I would use.]
Vitaliara looked toward the window again, though this time her gaze seemed to settle somewhere far beyond the Academy grounds.
[Gerald rarely spoke of Alexander directly. Whenever he did, he became... unpleasant.]
Lucavion raised an eyebrow.
’Master was unpleasant quite often.’
[Not like that.]
Her tail moved slowly across the blanket.
[With enemies, he was simple. If he disliked someone, he said so. If he wished to kill someone, he was usually even clearer.]
’That does sound like him.’
[Alexander was different.]
Lucavion remained quiet.
That was what he wanted.
Gerald had already spoken to him about Alexander, Isabelle, and Darius, revealing enough of their history for Lucavion to understand that the hatred between the two men had begun somewhere very different from where it ended. Vitaliara, however, had never been part of those conversations as far as he knew.
So he let her speak.
[Gerald used to say Alexander liked looking perfect.]
’Perfect?’
[Stiff.]
The correction came almost immediately.
[Always standing properly. Speaking properly. Wearing the correct expression because someone important might be watching.]
Lucavion’s mouth curved faintly.
’That sounds more like a noble.’
[Gerald said much the same.]
For a moment, Vitaliara seemed amused by the memory.
[He used to mock him for it. Apparently Alexander would sit through entire noble gatherings looking as though someone had carved him from stone, then complain about everyone there the moment they were alone.]
A quiet breath escaped Lucavion.
’I find that strangely easy to imagine.’
[Gerald knew when Alexander was pretending.]
Her voice softened.
[That was how he spoke of it, anyway. He knew which smiles were real. Which silences meant anger. When Alexander wanted to leave a room but remained because his name demanded it.]
The amusement faded from her expression.
[They knew one another for a long time.]
’They were close, then.’
Vitaliara glanced at him.
[Very.]
Lucavion gave nothing away.
He merely waited.
[Then Alexander changed.]
There it was.
The words came more slowly now, as though Vitaliara had reached the part of the memory Gerald himself had never properly explained.
[At least, that is what Gerald believed.]
’How?’
[I do not know.]
Her answer was immediate, and Lucavion believed it.
Vitaliara lowered herself upon the blanket, forepaws folding beneath her.
[Gerald never told me when it began. Only that Alexander became harder to speak with. More guarded. More concerned with House Valoria, with appearances, with what was expected of him.]
’And Master blamed him for that?’
[Eventually.]
She paused.
[At first, I think he was confused.]
Lucavion’s gaze shifted toward the dark window.
There were pieces missing between those words, pieces Vitaliara could never have possessed because Gerald himself had never seen them clearly. Darius’s schemes, the decisions made behind noble doors, the pressure gathering around Isabelle and Alexander after Gerald was removed from their lives; all of it had happened beyond Gerald’s reach. He had witnessed the result from outside and judged the change through the man he remembered.
Vitaliara had inherited only that incomplete view.
[Gerald believed Alexander chose it,] she continued. [Whatever "it" was.]
Lucavion’s fingers moved once against his knee.
’That sounds vague.’
[Because he was vague.]
’Master?’
[Yes.]
Vitaliara’s eyes narrowed faintly, as though the admission itself offended her.
[In that regard, the two of you are annoyingly similar.]
Lucavion looked at her.
’How so?’
[You both conceal things.]
’That is hardly rare.’
[You conceal them differently.]
He waited.
[Gerald became quiet.]
Her tail flicked once.
[If he decided something was his burden, then it remained his. He would answer directly when pressed, but only as far as he had decided beforehand. After that, there was a wall.]
Lucavion’s gaze lowered slightly.
[You, on the other hand...]
’Here it comes.’
[You smile.]
He gave her one immediately.
Vitaliara stared at him.
[Exactly that.]
’It is a good smile.’
[You change the subject, argue about the wording, answer one piece of the question, then make the other person wonder whether they asked badly.]
Lucavion considered that.
’An efficient method.’
[An irritating method.]
’Efficiency often is.’
Vitaliara’s ears flattened slightly.
[Gerald did not dance around the subject.]
’I am not my master.’
The answer came simply.
There was no edge behind it and no attempt to defend himself. Lucavion looked toward the lamp, watching the faint mana-flame shift inside the glass.
For a moment, Vitaliara said nothing.
Then her posture eased.
[That may be the case.]
The concession surprised him enough that his eyes returned to her.
She ignored the reaction.
Her thoughts had already moved elsewhere, following the old name back toward the woman she had seen in Hall C.
[That girl... Isolde.]
Lucavion’s expression stilled by a fraction.
Vitaliara noticed.
Of course she did.
[Is she Alexander’s child?]
He regarded her for a moment, then tilted his head.
’Why do you think I would know?’
Her golden eyes narrowed immediately.
[Stop playing around.]
’I merely asked—’
[I am neither blind nor stupid.]
Lucavion stopped.
Vitaliara rose onto all four paws and stared directly at him.
[I watched her approach you. I watched you recognize her before she said her name. She knew the movements of your hands, and you knew precisely where her words were aimed. You have spent this entire evening avoiding pieces of her history while answering enough to prove that you possess them.]
Her tail struck the blanket once.
[And now you expect me to believe you might not know who her father is?]
Silence followed.
Lucavion held her gaze for several seconds.
Then, slowly, the corner of his mouth lifted.
It was a small smile this time, lacking the exaggerated innocence he usually wore when he wanted to irritate her.
’Indeed.’
Vitaliara waited.
Lucavion leaned back against the wall, the faint smile still lingering at the corner of his mouth.
’She is Alexander’s daughter.’
The answer seemed to settle something within Vitaliara. Her ears relaxed, and the tension that had kept her upright slowly left her posture.
[I see.]
She remained quiet for several breaths, considering the old name alongside the woman she had watched in Hall C.
Then she moved.
Vitaliara crossed the blanket and pressed herself against Lucavion’s side, slipping beneath his arm with the unquestioned familiarity of someone who had done so countless times before. Her head settled against his ribs, and her tail curled loosely around his wrist.
Lucavion looked down at her.
’What is this?’
[Affection.]
’Suspicious.’
[Be quiet.]
A soft laugh escaped him.
His hand came down almost automatically, fingers passing once through the fur between her ears. Vitaliara leaned into the touch, eyes closing for a moment.
The room grew still again.
Then—
[But Lucavion.]
His fingers slowed.
[Whatever happened between Gerald and Alexander...]
Her golden eyes opened.
[That is not what troubles you when you look at her.]
Lucavion said nothing.
Vitaliara lifted her head enough to see his face.
[Gerald’s history may explain why the name Valoria carries weight. It may explain some of what surrounds her.]
Her tail tightened faintly around his wrist.
[But whatever binds you to Isolde...]
A pause.
[That lies somewhere much deeper.]
Lucavion’s hand became still upon her head.
Vitaliara watched his eyes change, only slightly.
Enough.
[And I think,] she murmured into his mind, [you are far more afraid of remembering that than you are of remembering her.]