With his mood restored, Luke headed into the kitchen to make lunch.
After the meal, the Crownguard girl had to leave. She'd snuck out from the Royal Academy—if she didn't get back soon, she'd be in for a beating tonight.
That afternoon, with nothing pressing to do, Luke stretched out in the rocking chair in the courtyard.
Compared to a month ago, the weather now was almost unbelievably comfortable. After noon, the sunlight spilled down gently, soft and warm, beneath a wide sky of blue and drifting clouds.
Every so often, a flock of birds crossed overhead, the view pretty enough to look painted.
He stared at the blue sky for a while, and a light breeze brushed his cheeks, carrying the fragrance of the courtyard flowers.
Nearby came the soft, steady sound of Sona and Fiora placing pieces—tap after tap—like a hypnotist's metronome.
Luke slowly started to feel drowsy. He yawned, his mind going pleasantly blank, as if every cell in his body had decided to become lazy all at once.
Then his eyes drifted shut.
It wasn't until four in the afternoon—when the sun was no longer as bright as it had been at midday—that Luke finally opened his eyes again, unhurried.
He also seemed to sense someone beside him.
Sure enough, when he blinked awake, he saw Tianna sitting in the chair next to him. She was tucked under the shade of the parasol, looking relaxed as she sipped her tea.
"Aunt Tianna… how long have you been here?" Luke's voice was still thick with sleep, and he yawned again as he spoke.
"Not long." Tianna glanced at him with an amused smile. "You've gotten pretty good at enjoying yourself."
"Aunt Tianna, listen to you." After a few breaths, the heaviness in Luke's limbs faded a bit. He slowly sat up, picked up the cup of iced tea beside him, took a sip, and continued, "I've always been good at enjoying myself."
Tianna couldn't help laughing and shaking her head. With him saying it so boldly, there really wasn't much she could argue.
Besides, he'd earned this comfort with real ability. In the beginning, the royal family had only given him two hundred and fifty gold and this house as seed money.
And that money was already almost gone—calling it starting from nothing wouldn't be an exaggeration.
A lot of people in the palace had assumed that Luke had gone from commoner to prince overnight and let it inflate his ego, spending wildly and throwing money around.
Some had even complained loudly, insisting a strict tutor be assigned to "properly discipline" the Second Prince.
Tianna had pressed the issue down. She'd decided to give him space—so long as she didn't step in to help.
And just like she'd suspected, this kid was like a treasure chest: open it, and it was all good stuff.
Before long, he'd be in Demacia's rich-man circle.
With how hot the capital's newspaper craze was right now, it wasn't going to cool off anytime soon.
And with that, every second was money—Tianna couldn't deny she was a little jealous.
Not to mention the "grand finale" still waiting in the wings: the bicycle.
Just the printing press and the bicycle alone were enough to guarantee Luke would never have to worry for the rest of his life.
Tianna looked at his easygoing face and reminded him, almost casually, "Don't forget—you're supposed to go to the academy tomorrow too."
Luke paused, then flopped back down. "That's tomorrow's problem."
He knew it was coming sooner or later.
Just like Lux, he'd eventually have to face the Royal Academy.
And thinking about that put a faint, unavoidable gloom in his chest.
After he finished the tea in his cup, Luke looked at Tianna and asked, "So—did you come for something?"
Tianna's eyes narrowed slightly, half-smiling. "The entire capital is spreading all kinds of nonsense about my nephew. Things like, 'Ten years of hard work and no one knew your name—one bedwetting incident and the whole world knows you.'"
"And the classic 'Is this the distortion of human nature, or the collapse of morality?'" She studied Luke from head to toe. "Those lines are yours, aren't they?"
Luke put on an innocent face. "Who knew the capital was full of geniuses? They're really good at coming up with stuff."
He finished speaking—and Tianna didn't say anything, just stared at him.
So Luke gave up and admitted it. "Fine, it was me. I was just trying to boost the hype."
A good hook made good hype.
And hype meant money.
"Boosting the hype is fine," Tianna said calmly, lifting her cup and taking a measured sip, "but you're boosting it using my nephew's name."
"Not long ago you used that girl to advertise all over the capital. Today you're using my nephew as bait. You're about to use up the entire Crownguard family. What—tomorrow you'll set your sights on me and my sister?"
Luke blinked, testing the waters. "Would that be allowed?"
A High Marshal headline would be incredible.
He could guarantee it—if he printed it tomorrow, sales would jump another twenty percent.
Tianna smiled and didn't answer.
But her eyes did.
It was the kind of look that promised Luke would regret it.
"Haha—just kidding." Luke laughed awkwardly and immediately changed the subject. "I've brewed a few barrels of wine lately. It's called Immortal's Drunk, and it's seriously something else. I'll send a few barrels to your estate another day."
"Today I didn't come for anything." Tianna finished the last sip in her cup and stood. "I just wanted to see you."
Still smiling, she reached out and rubbed Luke's hair. She especially loved ruffling it until it looked like a bird's nest.
After a moment, she finally pulled her hand back, satisfied. "There. That's much cuter. Nothing else—keep lying there."
With that, she headed toward the gate.
At the doorway, Tianna stopped and looked back at Luke. "And about that newspaper—rein it in a little."
Only then did Luke grin, lifting a hand in farewell. "Take care, Aunt Tianna."
Tianna left with a satisfied smile.
Luke stood up from the rocking chair, stretched lazily, and looked around the courtyard—empty now, except for himself.
There was a faint sound coming from the back courtyard—clearly, Fiora was practicing her swordplay.
After thinking for a second, Luke decided not to bother her.
He went into the main house.
In the living room, Sona sat on the couch with her instrument resting across her legs—her etwahl, Etwahl. From Luke's angle, he could see her beautiful profile, focused and serene, as her pale fingers plucked lightly at the strings.
Now and then, a single note drifted into the air.
It seemed like she was tuning it.
"When you're alone, is this what you do to pass the time?" Luke asked, casually, as he walked in.
Sona had already heard his footsteps. She looked up, her ocean-blue eyes turning toward him, and smiled as she nodded.
Most of the time, yes. But she never found it boring—sometimes it was just her and the instrument for an entire day, and that was enough.
Luke sat down nearby, watching Etwahl with interest. "Can I try?"
To be honest, he'd always been interested in music.
He'd even learned an instrument before—a saxophone—though "learned" mostly meant he could blow notes out of it.
He'd heard of Sona's Etwahl too. It was ancient, mysterious, and carried a long history.
It had been with Sona since she was born.
And what lay behind that instrument might even connect to Sona's true origins—though because of Noxus's invasion of Ionia, she'd been separated from her homeland for a long time.
Sona didn't hesitate. At Luke's request, she lifted Etwahl and handed it to him.
Normally, she didn't like anyone else touching it.
And Etwahl didn't like it either. As a relic from a distant age, it had—at least to some degree—its own will.
When anyone but Sona touched it, it resisted. Sometimes it snapped its own strings. Sometimes it produced harsh, ugly, grating sounds. Sona had seen it happen.
But whenever Etwahl snapped its own strings, once it returned to Sona's hands, it would repair itself not long after.
As for Luke wanting to try, Sona had no objection—she just didn't know whether Etwahl would like him.
Luke had already taken Etwahl fully from her.
And he couldn't help noticing: it was absurdly heavy. At least two hundred pounds. Sona could lift it casually, which said a lot about her strength.
As for Luke, he could lift it without effort.
He placed his hand on the strings experimentally. A cool sensation—smooth like jade—spread across his fingertips. He looked up at Sona.
"What do I do?"
Sona tilted her head and thought hard, truly trying to figure out how to teach him.
After a long pause, she sighed and looked troubled.
"I… don't even know how to explain."
Luke could usually read what she meant from her expressions, but music theory was too complicated—this wasn't something a look or a gesture could communicate.
That was the part Sona found hardest.
They weren't truly connected mind-to-mind.
And yet—
A soft, gentle, melodic voice suddenly sounded in Luke's ear, sweet and flowing like a song.
Luke lifted his head in shock. "What did you say?"
Sona looked confused. "I didn't say anything."
But Luke had heard it clearly.
It was like the voice had sounded beside his ear—and also like it had echoed directly inside his mind.
Light, airy, pure. Beautiful in a way that didn't feel real.
Luke stared at Sona, eyes wide.
And Sona, seeing the possibility in his expression, tried again.
"Y-you… you can hear me?"
Her voice—her real voice—trembled with nervousness and a little panic, but there was more hope than fear.
Her watery eyes fluttered.
Luke nodded. "Yeah."
Sona covered her mouth in astonished joy, her eyes instantly glossing with tears.
"Why… why can you suddenly hear me?"
Her voice shook with excitement, her eyes damp and shining, making her look heartbreakingly vivid.
Luke looked just as bewildered. "I don't know."
Even he didn't know what was happening—one moment he couldn't hear anything, and the next he could.
He lowered his gaze to Etwahl in his hands.
If there was a reason, it had to be this.
Sona looked at it too. "Etwahl…?"
Luke had never touched it before today. He'd only just put his hand on it—and almost immediately, he could hear her.
So there was really only one explanation.
Sona had always known she had a voice.
She just couldn't make it come out.
In the past, people had touched Etwahl—strangers, even her mother, her father, her sister.
But never once had anyone been able to hear her through it.
For a long time, she'd even wondered if she was imagining it—if, because she couldn't speak, her mind had fabricated a voice to fill the silence.
But today, Luke proved she wasn't imagining anything.
Tears fell in big, clear drops, sliding down her pale cheeks—tears of overwhelming relief and joy.
Her eyes trembled as she looked at Luke, and her voice kept spilling out.
"I'm so happy… This is the first time anyone has ever heard me. Only you, Your Highness."
She smiled sweetly and wiped at her tears as she spoke.
Luke's expression turned into genuine regret on her behalf. "A voice this good should be heard by everyone."
Sona's voice was truly beautiful—like her music.
He'd heard her in the game before, sure.
But compared to this, it didn't even come close.
The voice in his mind right now was purer, more ethereal—like something that shouldn't exist in the mortal world.
To have something so lovely trapped inside her… it felt unfair.
Sona's cheeks flushed slightly. She looked at Luke, happiness shining right through her. "If only you can hear me… I'm already satisfied."
Her voice was filled with joy, and then she asked—nervous, hopeful, vulnerable—
"Is my voice… nice?"
She could imagine how she sounded, but she couldn't judge it.
Luke answered immediately, smiling. "Of course it's nice. In my whole life, your voice is the second best I've ever heard."
Sona could tell he meant it.
And she hadn't expected to rank that high.
Second place alone made her delighted.
She blinked, curious. "Can I know who's first?"
Luke grinned. "Mine."
Sona laughed softly, cheeks turning even redder.
Hearing that bell-like laughter, Luke said, "Teach me."
"Okay!" Sona nodded quickly and scooted closer.
They were close—very close.
A faint fragrance drifted from her as her lovely hands settled on the strings.
Her voice came again, warm and bright with excitement.
"Etwahl seems to like you, Your Highness."
Luke asked, intrigued, "Why do you say that?"
Sona answered, "Etwahl doesn't like anyone touching it except me. But you touched it… and because of that, you can hear my voice."
If Etwahl didn't like him, this wouldn't be happening.
"Then I guess that's true," Luke said, looking down at the instrument in his arms, amazed by it.
Sona kept speaking in his mind as she taught him how to play.
Then she lifted her head.
Her shimmering eyes locked onto Luke's face—so close that if either of them exhaled, they'd feel it on their skin.
She looked nervous and worried, hesitating as she asked,
"Your Highness… don't you think this is too strange?"
Her heartbeat picked up as she spoke.
"It's not strange," Luke said, smiling at the worry in her eyes. "A privilege that only I get to enjoy in this world? Honestly, I'm happy about it."
He understood what she was afraid of.
Something like this had to be connected to magic.
And this was Demacia—an era when anti-magic laws were enforced harshly.
Magic was a word that made people tremble just hearing it.
Sona was afraid of how Luke would react—once he realized Etwahl, or even she herself, might be tied to magic.
But now, feeling what was in him—feeling the sincerity—Sona's fear drained away.
Her sweet face lit up with joy, her eyes sparkling with a soft, moving light.
"My voice… it's enough if only you can hear it."
She smiled as she said it.
In her heart, she wanted Luke to be the first person who heard her—and the last.
Luke smiled gently. "Then let's keep going."
"Mm!"
Close beside him, Sona's voice continued, steady and bright.
After a while, she suddenly realized that if she lifted her head, Luke's face was right there—close enough to touch.
"That's basically it. Your Highness, try playing a little."
She spoke with a hint of fluster as she finished.
Luke lowered his gaze, his handsome face filled with focus, his clear eyes pulling at her like starlight.
Etwahl's music sounded in the room…
Yet in Sona's ears, it felt like it vanished.
She just kept watching him.
Her face warmed, a blush spreading, and—somehow—a surge of courage rose up inside her.
Slowly, inch by inch, she leaned forward, her lashes trembling.
And then—
Footsteps sounded behind them.
Tap-tap-tap.
Sona jolted like she'd been startled by thunder.
She'd fought so hard just to move forward a fraction—and in an instant, she snapped back.
She even shifted farther away, sitting bolt upright, fingers clenched tightly in her lap, her face turning red at a visible speed.
"What are you two doing?" Fiora's voice came from behind, faintly puzzled.
Luke stopped moving his hands on the strings and looked up. "Sona's teaching me how to play."
Fiora's eyes shifted to Sona.
Sona nodded so fast it looked like her head might fall off. She forced a smile, panicked like a little cat caught sneaking food off the counter.
If someone put a hand over her chest right now, they'd hear her heart pounding wildly.
"Oh." Fiora nodded, not particularly interested. "Then keep going. I'm going outside to lie down for a while."
She turned and walked out.
But just before she left, the corner of her mouth lifted in a faint, knowing smile.
Only after Fiora was gone did Sona finally exhale in relief, pressing a hand to her chest.
Luke looked at her, confused. "Why did she scare you that badly?"
Even he could tell: the second Fiora appeared, Sona's emotions had shifted violently.
"N-no… she didn't," Sona said, shaking her head.
But the voice in his mind still carried lingering nerves.
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