Reborn as the Last van Ambrose

Grim watched as Julius Luminaris walked away, the man's warning about staying away from his daughter still ringing in his ears. The ball continued around him, a swirl of colors and sounds that suddenly felt suffocating. He needed air.

As he made his way toward the edge of the ballroom, he caught sight of the elderly man again. Their eyes met briefly, and the man tilted his head slightly toward a side door before walking in that direction himself.

[He wants to talk to you,] the voice in Grim's head observed. [I think it's time you heard what he has to say.]

Curious despite his wariness, Grim followed. The door led to a small garden terrace, secluded from the main festivities. The elderly man stood with his back to the door, gazing up at the night sky. Stars glittered overhead, unobscured by clouds.

"Beautiful night," the man said without turning around. "It reminds me of another night, long ago, when I stood on a different terrace with your grandmother."

Grim stopped a few paces behind him. "You knew my grandmother?"

The elderly man turned, his lined face solemn in the moonlight. "I knew her better than anyone. She was my wife."

A moment of stunned silence hung between them.

"Your wife?" Grim finally managed. "Then you're—"

"Cassius Van Ambrose," the man confirmed with a slight nod. "Your grandfather."

Grim stared at him, searching for any family resemblance, any sign that this wasn't some elaborate trick. Cassius's eyes were the same pale blue as his own. The realization hit him with the force of a physical blow.