Chapter 12: RIVALS
The fire crackled softly in the East Wing Study, casting long shadows across the walls. Logan sat with his back straight, the silence between him and Lady Mirena growing heavier with every passing second.
Her gaze didn’t waver. "Well?" she asked again, her voice calm but pressing. "Do you seek the throne of the Smith family?"
Logan looked into her eyes—not cold like Rudeous’s or warm like Alice’s, but something in between. Sharp. Calculating.
"No," he said finally. "I don’t want the throne."
Mirena didn’t blink.
"I want to learn magic," Logan continued, voice steady. "I want to master every element I can. Explore the world. Grow stronger. Maybe even go adventuring. But ruling? Sitting on a throne? That’s not for me."
Mirena’s fingers tightened slightly on her teacup. A flicker of relief crossed her face—quick, subtle. But it didn’t last long.
"I see," she said slowly. "And yet, intentions change, Logan. Especially in the hearts of the strong."
"I won’t change mine," he replied. "I never asked to be part of your politics. I only want to get better. That’s all."
I have already seen enough of the dark sides of these so-called politics, thirst for power to control others, thrones and whatever. I don’t want to lose anyone for these stupid things or even want to waste time behind these either. My past life was enough, Logan thought to himself.
A small smile tugged at her lips. "That makes me happy to hear. But I’d be a fool not to remain cautious."