There was no room for objection. The Capital's Magic Academy was about to begin its annual term—an unavoidable summons. Though Sophia would have preferred to keep her son safely within the Duchy, she understood this was a necessary political move. Nobles were required to report to the Capital for four months, to receive instruction and demonstrate their loyalty to the Crown. Only then would they return, as the Douglas Duchy played a crucial role in the kingdom's economy—overseeing the harvest and managing the dangerous mating and migration season of monsters that emerged from the forest's dense mana.
The real problem, however, was not bureaucracy—it was fate. In the heart of the kingdom, Lusian would inevitably encounter his fiancée, Emily, the future Saint of Light—the very woman destined to drive a sword through him.
The urgency was twofold: the approaching start of classes and the internal fracture within House Douglas that threatened to undo him. Only a month remained, and Lusian felt as if he were being dragged toward the gallows.
Though the destination was inevitable, the journey's logistics were anything but predictable. Lusian instinctively headed toward the main carriage, the ostentatious vehicle reserved for Duke Laurence. But Sophia, immaculate and wrapped in a silk-wool cloak, halted him with a subtle gesture.
"You will travel with me, Lusian," she said in that melodic voice that brooked no argument.
Lusian did not need the young Douglas's memories to understand the implications: family coexistence was a minefield. Duke Laurence and his concubine, Martha, would travel with Caleb, the father's favored half-brother. Sophia—the Duchess by decree, the Omega-affinity woman chosen by lineage—would travel with the legitimate heir. The family was literally divided into two factions, even during the journey.
The travel contingent was enormous: five hundred warriors and soldiers marched under the command of Albert and Garet. Monica, Sophia's personal assistant, accompanied them in the carriage. Lusian smirked inwardly: Monsters and bandits should be afraid. We're traveling with an army.
He followed his mother to a more discreet carriage, marked with a complex protective rune. Inside, the interior stunned him: velvet cushions, soft light filtering through engraved crystal panels. No horses pulled the vehicle.
"Technology works differently here," Lusian murmured, noticing a mana core glowing beneath the floor, powering the carriage's movement.
"It is applied magic, my son," Sophia replied calmly as she took her seat. Her presence alone reminded Lusian why such comfort existed. She was the kingdom's most powerful woman, chosen for the Douglas bloodline because of her magical affinity—an affinity that Duke Laurence openly despised, favoring Martha instead.
The carriage glided along the road with absolute smoothness, propelled by silent mana. The journey lasted a week, and thanks to its magical comfort, Lusian barely felt the passage of time. Every kilometer brought him closer to the Capital—and, with it, closer to the fiancée who would one day kill him: Emily, the Saint of Light.
Lusian watched the sunset, contemplating the conflicts that awaited him and the intricate web of politics and destiny he could not escape.