Everything in Its Place
Vasco Greyer stared back and forth between the sword and the boy, his eyes blazing.
"Would you allow me to take care of that?"
"I'd be grateful if you would."
"In exchange, I'd appreciate it if you'd help restore magical tools for me from time to time when I'm away from the capital. I'm about to set off for the Meridius Continent again, and my niece keeps pestering me to repair the artifacts in storage."
Cleio smiled brightly. It was exactly the reaction he'd been hoping for.
"I'll do what I can. I may not succeed every time, but it'll be good experience."
'As long as I'm paid properly, I'll happily help. After all, it was your past self in the manuscript who taught me artifact restoration.'
Dione caught his eye and smiled faintly. Since she handled the practical matters, she would see that things went smoothly.
"'Every time,' you say? Every time! Some people study their entire lives and never once restore a Legacy or Relic-class artifact. You're truly extraordinary."
Turning toward Gideon Aser—who for once wore a startled expression—Vasco said,
"Baron Aser, you have nothing to worry about in this world. Your eldest is a brilliant heir, and your second could be called a genius of magic."
"You flatter me," Gideon said, though his expression betrayed quiet satisfaction.
If his usual demeanor resembled twenty degrees below zero, now it was closer to five below.
"Flatter you? Hardly. This child will surely become the greatest mage of our generation. Mastering even a single branch of magic is difficult, but he has talent for both offense and restoration. Even Professor Zebedi Physis wasn't this gifted. I almost feel like I should give him something more."
Listening to Vasco's praise, Gideon beckoned Cleio closer.
"I was already thinking of rewarding you. Cleio, is there anything you want?"
"It might be a bit much to ask… but may I say it?"
"Go ahead."
There was only one thing Cleio wanted from Gideon.
The timing was perfect—so he decided to take the chance, success or not.
"Please give me this mansion."
The baron almost dropped his glass, clearly not expecting that answer.
The mansion wasn't Gideon's only property in the capital: Aser Trading Company's city headquarters near Royal Circus, staff apartments in the outskirts, and several multipurpose halls and warehouses were also his.
But of them all, this mansion was the most valuable residential estate.
"You've only just reached adulthood. It's far too early to inherit your mother's house. Even if I gave it to you, you lack the funds to maintain the garden, pay taxes, or pay the servants."
"Well…"
The highest-paid employee in the mansion, Mrs. Canton, earned forty thousand dinars a year. Even the other servants' wages, paid generously, were no more than a fifth of that.
Cleio could easily afford the upkeep.
But he couldn't reveal that to Gideon yet.
He clenched his fist under the table.
'I've been saving every coin to live on my own terms. I can't show my hand now. Until I have the deed, I have to deny everything.'
Still, Gideon wasn't the sort to resort to vulgar tricks if Cleio was right about him.
The baron's cold eyes curved meaningfully as he observed his son's hesitation.
"The pension that comes with your medal isn't enough, and the allowance I give you will end after you graduate. Surely you don't mean to live off Lord Greyer's generosity alone? If not, how will you maintain this house? If you can present a plan, I'll offer you proper advice."
Everything about his tone said he already knew about the land purchase and was prompting Cleio to confess it.
Katarina had discovered the owner of the Aurels District property, and there was no way Gideon's intelligence network didn't know as well.
If Cleio kept silent, his father would continue to look the other way; but if he confessed, Gideon would start meddling in his affairs.
It was a test—between his desire for the mansion and his wish for independence.
Then, unexpectedly, Vasco stepped into the conversation.
"How about this, then? The Baron's second son received a knight's title at only seventeen. Someday he'll surely rise higher. When he earns a peerage in the future, wouldn't this mansion make a perfect congratulatory gift?"
"I can't say if that'll be possible, but it's worth considering. What do you think, Vlad?"
A perfect move. The eccentric little mage had changed the flow of the discussion.
Still, even if Gideon was swayed, Cleio's wish couldn't be granted unless Vlad, the designated heir, agreed.
Albion had no law of primogeniture, but most noble houses followed the tradition of leaving the bulk of their property to the most capable child. Remembering the precedents he'd studied when buying land, Cleio glanced at Vlad.
'You're inheriting the castle at Colphos anyway—can't you spare this one for your brother? Think generously, for once.'
Maybe the gods heard him.
After studying Cleio for a few seconds, Vlad finally broke into a grin.
"Haha, you're all looking far into the future! If Cleio feels at home here, I've no objections."
"Then it's settled. The ownership of the mansion will be reconsidered based on your future achievements, Cleio."
"Thank you, Father."
"You've managed to surprise me several times in a single day."
"Was it the kind of surprise that displeased you?"
For a brief moment, the baron's icy expression cracked.
"…No. Such surprises are welcome. Those who walk only on the paved path reach only where the road ends, but those who carve their own way can go farther. You've grown."
Then the warmth vanished again behind his usual stoic mask.
Cleio instantly regretted his impulsive retort.
'I'd rather he'd scold me… I hope he doesn't start expecting weird things from me now. Anyway, this means I need to make sure Arthur gets his title too.'
While Cleio was busy running calculations in his head, Vasco slapped him on the back.
For such a short, small-framed man, the middle-aged mage hit with terrifying strength. Cleio staggered, and Vasco caught him, laughing heartily.
"Cleio, you talk as if you're sure you'll earn a title! That bold attitude doesn't match your frail looks at all!"
"Uncle, haven't I told you many times about the young master? You didn't believe me?"
"No, I did! I did! But he's even better than I imagined!"
***
By the time Cleio's sick leave ended, early frost had settled over Rundane.
The forecast said this winter would be colder than usual.
Worried as ever, Mrs. Canton stuffed Cleio's luggage full of things to keep the frail young master warm—
Two large hot-water bottles, thick down quilts, a cashmere scarf as long as Cleio was tall, several hand-knit wool sweaters, wool shirts, and his newly tailored uniform.
On top of that, two baskets of snacks "to share with friends."
Cleio's own luggage wasn't light either.
First, the newly restored Vegg's Sword, which Vasco had fitted with a fine leather scabbard and hilt.
Then boxes filled with mana stones purchased cheaply from both Aser and Greyer Trading Companies, plus a crate of strong spirits for enduring the winter.
By the time it was all loaded, two carriages stood before the dormitory of the Royal Capital Defense Academy—
One carrying Cleio and Behemoth, and the other packed entirely with luggage.
Unloading the Carriages
Even with two errand boys helping, it took quite some time to unload all the luggage from the carriage.
The first to spot Cleio, busy hauling boxes, were the twins returning from their Saturday afternoon sword practice.
"Ah! Ray!"
"Ray, you're back already?"
"Yeah. Have you two been well?"
The twins sprinted over and clung to him immediately.
"We're always healthy!"
"And your face looks so much better now!"
"Thank goodness!"
Overwhelmed by their combined enthusiasm, Cleio staggered—only to be caught from behind by a slender yet firm arm carrying the faint scent of roses. It was Isiel.
"You all right?"
"Thanks to you. It's been a while, Isiel. How have you been?"
Once Cleio regained his balance, Isiel let go and stood before him.
It really did feel like ages since they'd last met.
'Her hair's grown longer… past her shoulders now.'
Months had passed since he first came here. Seeing her longer hair drove home how much time had gone by.
Regardless of his quiet sentimentality, Isiel spoke bluntly as ever.
"Is now the time for you to be asking me how I've been? After what you've gone through?"
Though her tone was rough, Cleio could tell it came from worry. She had always been bad at showing her feelings.
"The newspapers made a big fuss out of nothing—"
"If catching a demonic beast is 'nothing,' then there'd have been no reason to establish the Royal Capital Defense Academy in the first place. Enough. I don't want to hear your clever excuses."
Cutting him off, she bent down to pick up two of the boxes.
Behemoth brushed past her legs, purring in greeting.
"Wrrraow—"
'That shameless cat—can't resist a pretty girl.'
Isiel froze, clearly torn, then gave in just a little, bowing slightly with the boxes still in hand. Behemoth nimbly leapt up onto the boxes she carried.
"Meow. Nya—(I'm off. Good luck.)"
"Ah, we'll help too!"
"Let's carry them together!"
The twins quickly grabbed more boxes. Though small in stature, their bare arms showed solid muscle beneath the short sleeves of their training shirts.
With their help, the two dorm attendants' faces brightened—they'd been wondering how long the unloading would take otherwise.
***
A Cozy Reunion
Though the common room wasn't small, it soon filled with people: the twins, Isiel, Chel and Arthur—who'd shown up after hearing the news—and even Nebo, freshly returned from home.
There weren't enough chairs, so they had to bring in a few from the bedroom.
The twins sat cross-legged on the floor, playing with Behemoth.
After the attendants brought tea, Cleio opened the two large snack baskets.
They overflowed with all sorts of confections, drawing delighted cries from the twins.
"Cleio's tea parties are the best!"
"Look, Victoria sponge cake!"
"And toffee nut tarts—yum!"
Working in perfect sync, the twins quickly arranged the desserts on the table.
"Hey, gimme a piece of that toffee nut tart," Nebo said, taking a huge bite as Chel reached for a pale pink macaron.
Ever direct, Chel sampled it boldly, then offered another to Isiel, who was sitting slightly apart.
"You like rose scents, right? The rose cream in this macaron's excellent. Thanks to you, Cleio, I'm getting to taste some amazing desserts."
"If you tell Mrs. Canton the daughter of the de Neige Hotel owner praised her sweets, she'll be thrilled," Cleio replied with a smile.
As Chel and Cleio chatted, Isiel took a cautious bite—and her usually firm expression softened.
"It's… delicious."
Surprised by her own words, she quickly pressed her lips shut.
Chel burst into cheerful laughter.
"Haha! Isiel, eat as much as you want! Let's give all the macarons to her."
"Good idea!"
"I didn't think you liked sweets, Isiel!"
"Hey, Nebo, stop eating—you've already left only two slices of tart!"
"Ah, sorry, it's just too good—"
Even Arthur, standing by the centerpiece with a teacup, was on his second olive cookie.
There were so many types of desserts that everyone found something to their taste.
Surrounded by idle chatter, clinking teacups, Behemoth's purrs, and bursts of laughter, Cleio felt an odd warmth spread through him.
'In a world where a dungeon could open any day and war looms on the horizon…'
It was a peace he'd never known in his past life—a real sense of belonging.
That he'd had to lose his old body and name to find it felt absurd, but as the children's laughter echoed, Cleio simply smiled along with them.
By the time the sun turned the western bank of the Tempus River crimson, teatime was over.
Stuffed with sweets and glowing with happiness, the children looked content.
The twins sprang to their feet first—they said it was time for dinner.
Given how much they'd just eaten, that was impressive, but considering their sword training, it made sense.
"Thanks for the food!"
"See you later, Ray!"
"No, thank you—you made unloading easy."
"Ray, you're too skinny! You need to eat more!"
"Next time we'll help again!"
"Just hearing that makes me feel stronger."
Everyone drifted off to their rooms or the dining hall until only Arthur and Isiel were left.
Cleio had been waiting for that moment. He stopped Arthur.
"Arthur, wait a moment."
"Hm? What is it?"
"Let's go to my room."
"What's this about?"
When Arthur stopped, Isiel naturally did too.
"Uh… You already told Isiel about what happened recently, right?"
The quick-witted pair immediately understood Cleio's meaning.
Exchanging a silent glance, the knight and his squire followed Cleio into his room.
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