The Suncrest Invitation

"Son, why do you stand there so silently?" His mother's voice drifted across the room, airy and teasing, but drawn with real curiosity. She pointed to the chair next to her, her fingers as light as a breeze. "Come sit with us for a moment."

Victor gave himself a small, secret smile, the edges of his lips curving just enough to reveal the relief in his chest. He moved nearer and eased himself down beside her, measured, cautious, but with an accompanying familiarity that only family could permit. Ania's head came up to meet him, smiling politely, almost formally, yet still laced with recognition. She did not lean into his arms as she used to do with childlike desperation. She looked at him now with dignified grace, a young woman schooled in the art of nobility, sensitive to appearances and decorum.

My lovely pie," Victor whispered, inclining just so to brush an errant strand of hair from her face. His was a light touch, intimate in its familiarity, the kind of movement filled with decades of history shared between them. "Even if you become a lovely woman, or marry one day. you will forever be my little sister. Don't let refinement disturb you.

For an instant, the room closed in on them, the world beyond receding. The politics, the pressures, the cultivation—wait. Here, in this place of silence, it was only family, only the murmuring, unspoken connection that would not yield to expectation. And he saw it reflected in her eyes: love, respect, and a bond that no decorum could destroy.

Ania's lips twisted into a gentle, calculated smile, her face caught between warmth and restraint. "I know, brother," she breathed softly, her voice a velvety whisper laced with warmth. "But for wedded propriety… I have to play the manners. Don't worry, I'll never abandon you without protection." Her voice was soft yet firm, conveying not merely a vow but a subtle defiance of the distances convention required of her.

Anna observed the two of them with a pain she could never quite identify. Seeing her children so close, tied together by a loyalty stronger than blood, filled her with a sense of pride—and at the same time, there was a sting of fear as well. She wanted them to grow out of this closeness, to develop lives that extended beyond the security of their common shadow. "Little Ania," she replied softly, reaching to brush a wayward lock of her daughter's hair out of her face as she had since childhood, "you will have to marry one day. And when you do, you must continue to be an advisor to your brother. Both of you will make our country greater than before."

Ania let her eyes drop for a moment, the burden of her mother's words caressing her heart. When she raised them again, they had softened but her determination remained intact. "I know, Mother," she whispered. "But at present, I will remain beside my brother and guard him. That is my responsibility—my decision."

Victor cupped her face, his fingers lifting her chin up with a gentleness that contrasted with his strength. His purple eyes, so frequently cold to other people, now shone with a fierce passion only she could evoke in him. "Even when you become the woman you're destined to be, my little pie," he murmured, his voice low and possessive, "you'll always have a home here, by my side. Never mind appearances or duty—you belong to me to care for.

The words hung suspended between them like a vow, their intimacy a living entity that beat with unspoken promises neither decorum nor obligation could destroy.

Ania's small hand touched him lightly along his arm, a gentle touch that bore both comfort and thanksgiving. "I know, Brother," she whispered once more, her voice little more than an air movement, but strong with unspoken conviction. There was gentleness in her eyes, a quiet warmth that seemed to ground him in the midst of his thoughts.

Anna stood up from her chair, the rustle of her robes signaling her movement as she sat down facing them. Her violet and dark eyes softened upon looking at Victor. "My son… have you been planting day and night these past days?" she queried, worry infusing each syllable.

Victor shook his head with a soft, almost unnoticeable movement. "I'm all right, Mother. I can do it. Cultivation… it is needed, but I understand that rest is important in its own way." His voice was quiet, nearly serene, but had the faint edge of someone who had worked far too many hours at a stretch.

Anna pressed her lips into a tight line, releasing a soft sigh. "Victor… you have to remember, overexertion kills even the strongest body. Even with your capacity, you need to pace yourself. Don't let ambition make you forget your limits." Her words were soft but authoritative, a mother's warning coated in gentle firmness.

Victor's gaze drifted toward a nearby table, where a partially completed puzzle of a grand, sprawling tree lay. Some pieces were missing, and he realized with a quiet warmth that his mother and Ania had spent their time carefully arranging it, filling the empty spaces together.

"You two have been working on this?" he asked, a soft smile curving his lips, the tension in his shoulders easing just slightly.

Anna's eyes sparkled, violet fire raging in the soft light of the lamp. "Yes. We thought it would be peaceful… and, well, you had a ceremony to go to soon. That's why I called you." Her tone had a soft tease, a laced overlay of love and quiet expectation.

Victor blinked, a flash of surprise crossing his face. "A ceremony?" he repeated, curiosity sharpening the rough edges of his calm. "Where?" His voice was a combination of interest and hesitantly excited, as a leaf is poised to be blown into flight.

Yes," said Anna, the smile fixed, nearly playful, as if she had some knowledge that he did not. "The Suncrest Clan has requested your presence. It's crucial for your. recognition. You have to get ready." Her voice contained a gravity that constricted his chest, a mixture of warning and anticipation.

Victor's eyes went wide, instinctively, as if the word itself—Suncrest—had opened a door deep in his memory. He recalled pieces, indistinct snapshots of grandeur, long halls with polished floors, and the sense of a great power.

And then, as suddenly, a picture of his mother appeared in his mind—her knowing smile, the way her eyes had always kept secrets she would never share. The same smile now repeated in Anna's face, and it unnerved him more than he cared to acknowledge. There was something in her serene self-assurance, something that suggested the unspoken currents of power and obligation, and Victor was both attracted to it and disturbed.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.