Chapter 34 : The Council of Three (and One Maid Who Stayed)
The corpse of the beast still smoldered outside the manor walls, its black blood staining the soil.
Inside, the Valemonts gathered in the dining hall. The table was scarred, the benches uneven, but the air was heavy with seriousness.
Father sat at the head, one hand resting on his sword. His face was pale, thinner than it once was, but his eyes were as sharp as ever. Mother sat beside him, rocking the baby gently in her arms. I climbed into my chair, my legs dangling, too small to touch the floor—but my eyes stayed fixed on the conversation.
“This land isn’t safe,” Selene began. Her voice was low, dangerous. “The wards are half-broken, and the fences are rotten. Beasts won’t hesitate to slip through again.”
“We’ll need more than wards,” Darius replied, his tone grave. “Stone walls, iron spikes, patrols. If this is where we’ll live, then we treat it as a fortress. Not a home.”
Selene’s lips pressed thin. “So you accept it then. The Empire didn’t exile us to farm—they exiled us to bleed.”
Father’s hand tightened on his sword hilt. “…Yes.”
The silence stretched like a drawn bow.
While their voices rose and fell with strategy, I noticed her again.
In the corner of the room, half-hidden in shadow, stood one of the last servants who had not abandoned us.
A girl not much older than a teenager, her black hair tied back neatly, her plain apron dusted from work. She didn’t speak, didn’t interrupt, only stayed—always stayed.
She was the one who had carried me from danger when the Howler fell. The one who picked up the books I scattered. The one who made sure I never wandered too far alone.
And somehow, I had never even asked her name.
I slipped off my chair and tugged gently at her sleeve.
She blinked, startled, then knelt down, her eyes warm. “Yes, young master?”
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“Name?” I whispered.
Her lips parted, then curved into the faintest smile. “Lyra, my lord. I am Lyra.”
I repeated it clumsily, my voice small but certain. “Ly…ra.”
Her smile softened, and she bowed her head. “Yes. And so long as you wish it, I will remain by your side.”
The HUD flickered faintly:
[New Bond Established: Lyra – Loyalty: High]I grinned up at her, even as Father and Mother continued to plan walls and wards.
They could talk of beasts and blood all they wanted.
For me, the most important discovery of the night was simple:
I wasn’t alone.
Lyra Perspective
That night, after the family’s meeting had ended, Lyra lingered in the hallway. She carried a lantern in one hand, her reflection flickering faintly in the glass.
To anyone else, she was just a quiet maid—one of the few who hadn’t fled when the Valemonts were cast out. But behind her calm face lay a truth no one here knew.
She was the Emperor’s daughter.
Years ago, before he wore the crown, the man who would be Emperor had known a woman. Not a noble’s daughter, not a court beauty—just a girl who loved him as a man, not as a throne. When he rose to power, she vanished, unwilling to taint his future with scandal.
It was only when a letter arrived, years later, that he learned the truth.
She is your child. Her name is Lyra.At first he thought it a scheme. But when he saw the girl, when her eyes mirrored the woman he once loved, he knew.
She was his blood.
Yet she could never be acknowledged. The nobles would use her as a blade against him, a pawn to fracture the Empire. And so, in secret, he sent her to the one house he trusted more than his own guards—the Valemonts.
Where she became a maid.
At first, Lyra had feared her new post.
The Valemonts were warriors, legends who bore the weight of the Empire’s sword. She thought they would be cold, distant, perhaps cruel. But what she found was warmth.
Selene’s kindness, Darius’s stern honor, Elara’s fierce drive… and now, little Rooga.
Especially Rooga.
That boy—
She sat by the window that night, staring at the cracked yard where he had burned himself half-empty practicing Fireball after Fireball. Her eyes narrowed, her thoughts turning sharp.
"This kid… what is he?"
Her lips pressed tight.
"If you call it genius, you’re wrong. He’s already far past that. I know—because I was once called a genius myself. My affinity with the dark arts was unmatched at my age. And yet… he’s only three, and he’s already doing things I can’t. Not even close."
Her fingers tightened around the lantern.
"This isn’t genius. This is something else. A monster born in human skin. And Father… you just let him slip through your hands. You sent him here to the wilds."
She exhaled slowly, almost laughing. “Haa… Father, how hard will the Empire fall if this child ever seeks revenge?”
The lanternlight flickered against her face.
For the first time in her life, Lyra wasn’t sure if she should feel afraid… or relieved… that she had chosen to stay by his side.