As a pair of maids bustled around, tightening sashes and adjusting collars, Luke and Lysandra sat with visibly bored expressions. Their feet dangled off the cushioned bench while their outfits were fussed over for the upcoming visit.
"Hey, Sophia," Lysandra called out, voice loud and careless. "What does Grandma's look like?"
"Yeah," Luke added lazily, "Is she some wrinkly old bat or what?"
From a short distance away, Sophia's expression twisted in horror.
"Young Master. Young Lady. A noble does not begin their sentence with 'hey', it is utterly uncouth and unbecoming of your station," she scolded, walking over with her arms crossed.
Luke rolled his eyes. 'Ugh, here she goes again...'
Lysandra scowled. 'Nag, nag, nag. She's always gotta whine about something.'
Under her breath, she muttered, "Tch, what a bitch..."
"I heard that," Sophia said without missing a beat, giving Lysandra a warning glare. "And I will kindly remind you, 'bitch' is both vulgar and entirely inappropriate. I must ask you to refrain from using such language, permanently."
"Yeah, yeah. Whatever," Lysandra grumbled, waving her hand dismissively.
Sophia sighed deeply, as though summoning divine patience from the heavens themselves.
"You wished to know about your grandmother," she said, smoothing her tone. "Would you like to know her appearance... or what kind of person she is?"
The way she phrased it made it obvious: this is how nobles should ask such things.
Luke and Lysandra ignored the subtle lesson entirely.
"Both," Luke answered flatly. "You might as well make it interesting while you're at it."
"Very well," Sophia said with a resigned nod. "Though I may not be the most qualified to speak about her, I shall offer what I know as per your request."
Lysandra slouched farther in her seat. "Okay... Go on."
"Your grandmother's name is Lady Katrina Velmire," Sophia began. "Like many noblewomen who've gracefully passed the bloom of youth, she carries herself with dignity and has maintained a head of snow-white hair that, truthfully, suits her rather well."
"Sounds ancient," Lysandra muttered.
Sophia ignored the comment.
"Her features are sharp and commanding, high cheekbones, a piercing gaze, and lips that rarely smile unless she finds something truly amusing... which tends to be other people's discomfort. Her presence is the kind that turns heads when she enters a room, not out of beauty, but force of will."
"So... scary grandma," Luke said dryly.
Sophia pressed on. "As for her disposition... she is a woman of strong opinions, sharper words, and an unpredictable sense of humor. Some might say eccentric. Others might say unhinged."
Lysandra perked up. "Ooh, unhinged? Like, what? She throws wine glasses and threatens other nobles?"
"Only on special occasions," Sophia said matter-of-factly. "She enjoys horse riding, rare wines, and playing mind games at dinner. She once hosted an entire soirée just to unmask a rival noble's affair."
Luke blinked. "...So she's insane."
"She's noble," Sophia corrected. "With her own... dramatic flair."
Lysandra's eyes sparkled with mischief. "I like her already."
Sophia pinched the bridge of her nose. "Of course you do."
**********
The sound of hooves striking cobblestone echoed through the grand courtyard of House Elsher's mansion, steady and refined like a heartbeat too proud to rush. The ornate black carriage came to a slow, deliberate stop in front of the main steps, its dark wood panels gleaming under the late afternoon sun, trimmed with gold and bearing the intricate crest of House Velmire.
A row of maids and male servants stood aligned on either side of the red carpet unfurled from the mansion's entrance to the edge of the carriage steps. The maids dipped into graceful curtsies, lifting the edges of their skirts slightly, while the male servants bowed with one hand over their chest and the other behind their back. All kept their eyes lowered, not a word was spoken. The air was filled with anticipation, the very breeze seeming to hush in reverence or perhaps fear.
A footman stepped forward and opened the carriage door.
A delicate heel stepped out first, healed, polished, and refined. Then came the rest of her.
Lady Katrina Velmire descended like a queen from a throne, slowly, gracefully, without sparing even a glance toward the servants lined up before her. Her gown shimmered with a deep midnight blue, layered with silver embroidery shaped like curling vines and arcane patterns. It clung to her figure with dignified structure, neither flamboyant nor plain, just devastatingly exact.
Her long, once pitch black and now a striking silver-white, was swept into a loose, elegant twist, with a few deliberate strands falling to frame her face, sharp, mature, and strikingly beautiful. Time had carved its presence into her skin, but the fine wrinkles only added a dignified charm, enhancing rather than dulling her allure. Her vivid blue eyes held a knowing glint, and the subtle curve of her lips suggested both amusement and danger, like a woman who had seen far too much and still knew more than she let on.
You could basically say that if modern people like us saw this old woman, they'd definitely go, "Mommy, sorry, MOMMY!!!"
As she stepped onto the carpet, two figures emerged from the doorway above the steps.
"Welcome, Mother," said Jenessa, her voice steady and warm. She walked down with practiced elegance, a rare softness in her eyes.
"Mother," Darius echoed beside her, offering a subtle bow of respect.
Lady Katrina's cold eyes swept over them briefly. Her expression did not change, but there was something, some glint behind her pale gaze.
"So you do still remember how to greet your elders," she said, her tone like silk layered over steel.
Jenessa smiled, refusing to be pierced. "Of course. I would never forget the woman who raised me."
"Raised?" Katrina arched a brow, then clicked her tongue. "Barely. You were always running around with bruises and swords."
"And you always pretended not to care," Darius added lightly.
Katrina's sharp gaze shifted to him. "And you never learned to button your cuffs properly." Her eyes flicked once to the slightly uneven fold at his wrist. "Still sloppy, I see."
Yet despite her biting words, her gloved hand brushed a stray leaf from Darius's shoulder as she passed.
Jenessa stepped closer and gently took her mother's arm.
"You've had a long journey. Shall we go inside?"
"Hmph," Katrina murmured, but did not pull away. "If I must endure this family gathering, I might as well do so sitting down with wine. And someone better have aged it properly."
"Yes, Mother," Jenessa replied with a knowing smile. "We know your tastes haven't changed."
"No," Katrina said curtly. "But your manners have. Barely."
Yet even as she spoke, her grip on Jenessa's arm tightened just a fraction, enough for her daughter to feel it. A silent show of affection that Lady Katrina would never admit to.
"And where are those two little demons when their grandmother has already arrived?" Lady Katrina asked coldly, snapping her fan shut with a soft thud as she gave Jenessa a long, pointed look from head to toe.
Behind them, Darius let out a quiet chuckle, careful not to draw attention.
'There she goes again... Pretending to scold while using it as an excuse to check on her daughter's health. She never changes.'
"They're still getting ready," Jenessa replied, her tone patient as she gently rubbed her mother's arm. "They'll be joining us at the dinner table shortly."
Lady Katrina huffed.
"Tch. Even knowing their grandmother was arriving today, they took longer to appear than I did. No doubt they're just like you, choosing to waste time swinging swords and collecting bruises instead of preparing themselves properly for a noble welcome."
"Well, isn't it a good thing they're showing initiative with swordsmanship?" Darius said as he stepped up beside Jenessa. "If they keep this up, House Elsher will raise not one, but three elite swordsmen. That would reflect well on House Velmire's reputation and on you, Mother."
Lady Katrina's sharp gaze shifted toward him, her eyes narrowing.
"I don't need prestige built on grandchildren rolling in mud. Children of noble blood should have smooth skin, not battle scars. Swordsmanship this early only invites trouble."
Her face darkened further as her fan creaked under her tightening grip.
"And don't speak to me of Velmire's reputation, yourfather-in-law never gave a damn about this family's standing. That madman barely knew how to treat his wives, let alone care for this family's well-being. Do you truly think he'd care about House Elsher's accomplishments?"
Her voice trembled at the edges with restrained bitterness, and her fan looked seconds away from snapping in half.
Sensing the rising tension, Jenessa gently squeezed her mother's hand. "Mother, please... let's not sour the mood. The children will be here soon, and I'm sure they'll make you proud."
Darius offered a calm smile, his voice smooth. "Besides, isn't it better to focus on the present, when we're all gathered together?"
Lady Katrina exhaled sharply through her nose, but her grip on the fan loosened.
"Hmph. You two always try to talk circles around me."
"And yet you're still listening," Darius said with a knowing grin.
Lady Katrina shot him a glare but said nothing. She didn't have to. The tension in her shoulders had softened just enough to show she'd let the matter drop, for now.
**********
"Greetings, grandmother," says Luke and Lysandra while bowing gracefully toward Katrina. Katrina, who had just entered the dining room, just gave them a long, piercing stare.
"It seems like you got a decent amount of plump on your body," says Katrina without any warning.
'What the heck! Did she just call us fat' thought both Luke and Lysandra.
"MY ANGELS!!!" Darius suddenly broke the tension in the room by shouting happily towards the twins. He ran and quickly hugged them before the twins could avoid it.
"Ugh~ Father!" shouted Lysandra with exasperation as she tried to pull Darius away from her, while Luke, who was also in the same situation as her, just made an annoyed look and gave up since he knew that once their father started to show his affection. He will not let go until he feels satisfied.
"mwah, mwah, mwah. Did you miss me, my little angels? You must miss me~ Papa, sorry that he can't play with you these days," says Darius with a disappointing voice. His work has been so stacked due to him taking so many days off ever since the twins were born.
"We don't miss you, father" says both Luke and Lysandra with a flat voice. Darius, as usual ignores that remark.
"Oh, so you do miss me. Don't worry, I will try to find a way to get as many days off from work" says Darius
"No thanks," says the twin again.
"chk chk. It looks like my son-in-law has suddenly become delusional. Looks like you're coddling them too much, that they got tired of you. I told you should change that behaviour of yours"
"She's right, Darius. Also, did I hear you saying you're trying to get a days off? Did I mishear that, or did you really mean that?" says Jenessa with a threatening voice while smiling menacingly.
"No, sweetheart," says Darius obediently with a sad puppy look.
"Good! Don't stress out your subordinates much more than this. You already took months of days off when the twins were still infants," says Jenessa with a strict tone.
"Yes, sweetheart."
**********
The clinking of silverware and the gentle rustling of napkins signaled the start of the meal. The roasted duck was carved and served with care, the honey-glazed carrots arranged artfully beside it. As the servants poured wine and juice into crystal goblets, Luke and Lysandra took their seats with practiced grace.
Their backs were perfectly straight, elbows tucked neatly in, and their hands moved with a precision that rivaled the most disciplined noble children in the kingdom. Each motion was deliberate, quiet, composed, and refined. They handled their utensils as if part of a ritual, cutting their meat into perfect portions and lifting each bite with elegant restraint.
Across the table, Katrina watched them with an unreadable expression. Her sharp eyes didn't miss a single detail. For a long moment, she said nothing. Then, she spoke.
"...It seems you can slice that meat properly and not like some primate."
Lysandra paused mid-bite. Luke's fork hovered just before his mouth.
'Did she just call other kids monkeys?'
The twins exchanged a glance but said nothing. Instead, they quietly resumed eating, choosing silence over confrontation.
Darius, sitting to their left, gave an awkward laugh. "What your grandmother means is that your table manners are flawless. Good job, both of you!"
Katrina huffed and sliced into her meal with precision. "I said what I meant."
There was an uncomfortable pause.
Luke blinked. Lysandra raised an eyebrow, her expression straining between confusion and insult.
"...Right," Lysandra muttered, stabbing a carrot with unnecessary force.
Katrina continued, completely unbothered. "At least you're not chewing like ravenous beasts. I've seen noble children eat like pigs at a trough."
Luke set down his fork with a soft clink and looked at her directly. "Thank you?" he said, though his tone made it clear he wasn't sure if it was a compliment or a thinly veiled insult.
Katrina didn't respond. She simply took a sip of her wine, eyes still on their posture like a general surveying soldiers. "You've been trained well. Must have had a decent tutor, or at least a mother who wasn't completely useless."
Jenessa's hand froze over the teapot mid-pour. "...Mother."
"What? I'm complimenting their hard work on etiquette," Katrina said, utterly unapologetic.
Darius chuckled nervously. "Ah, yes. Nothing says 'I love you' like comparing everyone else to feral animals."
Katrina glanced at him as though he were a peculiar insect. "Do you want me to lie?"
"Your intention is kind enough, Mother," Darius said carefully, "though the comparison may be a bit much for young ears."
The twins had both gone quiet again, chewing dutifully while clearly trying to pretend they weren't being subtly roasted alive.
Jenessa set the teapot down with a quiet clink and folded her hands calmly in her lap.
"Mother," she said with a voice that held a firm undertone beneath its civility. "I know you're trying to bond with the children. But the way you phrase things... It's not exactly encouraging."
Katrina narrowed her eyes. "I'm not here to coddle anyone. They're not made of sugar."
"They're not," Jenessa agreed. "But they're also not soldiers, nor adults who have already experienced the world. They're children, smart ones, sensitive ones."
"I was raised with directness, not honeyed words," Katrina said flatly. "It built strength."
"It also built distance," Jenessa replied, her voice quieter but sharper. "And I'd rather my children feel safe at the dinner table, not like they're being judged in a military parade."
Katrina stared at her daughter for a moment, unreadable as ever. Her gaze shifted back to the twins, who were sitting rigid and silent, still cutting their food with perfect, overly cautious precision.
"...Hmph," Katrina muttered. "Alright."
And though she didn't apologize or explain herself further, she didn't make another comment for the next several minutes. Instead, she simply ate.
Silently.
Watching.
And this time, the twins relaxed, just a little.
The clatter of silverware filled the silence left in Katrina's wake. The tension had simmered down slightly, but an invisible weight still lingered in the air.
Luke and Lysandra kept eating, though their movements had grown more mechanical. Each bite was taken carefully, like kids trying hard not to upset someone.
Katrina continued to eat in silence, her eyes occasionally darting to the twins. Every so often, she opened her mouth as if to speak, only to shut it again. The silence grew heavy.
Then, abruptly, she said, "...At least your chewing doesn't sound like someone grinding gravel."
The twins stay silent.
Katrina cleared her throat. "You're quiet. That's good. Quiet eaters are civilized. It's rare these days."
Darius perked up. "Aha! Now that was almost a compliment!"
Katrina scoffed. "Don't exaggerate."
"But you said they were civilized," Darius pointed out.
"I merely observed that they were not barbaric," Katrina said. "Don't dress it up as a compliment."
"It's close enough," he said with a grin.
Jenessa shook her head, though her lips twitched with a smirk. "That is her version of a compliment," she explained to the twins. "Believe it or not, that means she's proud of you."
Lysandra blinked. "Seriously?"
Luke scoffed. "She literally said we don't chew like gravel and that we're not barbaric."
"Yes, and trust me, from her, that's basically a round of applause," Darius said, patting Luke's shoulder.
"Do you always feel compelled to add unnecessary commentary?" Katrina asked, dryly, glaring at him.
Katrina set down her knife and fork. "I've seen children of high rank gnawing on meat like starved dogs. These two have discipline. That reflects well on them and on whoever raised them."
She glanced at Jenessa briefly.
Jenessa met her eyes. For a brief moment, something unspoken passed between mother and daughter. A rare exchange of acknowledgment.
"...Thank you, Mother," Jenessa said gently.
Katrina didn't reply. She slid a small plate of fruits toward Lysandra. "Here. You'll never get strong if you keep ignoring what you should eat," she added, "You and your fixation on meat is concerning".
The girl stared at it for a second before slowly taking a piece.
"Thanks," she said.
"Hmph."
They ate in relative peace after that. The twins no longer flinched at every word. Instead, they began exchanging small looks, trying to decode the hidden praise behind each barbed sentence. It became a quiet game between them.
When Katrina later muttered, "At least you don't squirm and chatter like ferrets," Luke whispered under his breath, "Translation: She likes how we sit still."
Lysandra fought the urge to laugh.
By the time dessert arrived, lemon and elderflower tart, the atmosphere had warmed ever so slightly. The twins were no longer stiff. They still sat with perfect posture, but now it was natural, not forced.
As the final course was served, Katrina glanced at them once more. Her voice came low, almost reluctant.
"You two... aren't hopeless."
Lysandra looked at her.
Luke blinked.
Then both of them smiled.
"We're honored by your... creative compliments," they said in unison.
Katrina blinked. "Hmph. Sharp tongues, both of you. Just like your mother."
But this time, her tone was softer. Almost fond. She didn't look displeased. In fact, her lips twitched, just once, barely there.
Darius leaned over to Jenessa and whispered, "Is this what a miracle looks like?"
Jenessa smiled softly, eyes on her mother and children. "Not a miracle," she said. "Just... growth."
By the end of dinner, the air had warmed considerably. The twins found themselves opening up, telling Katrina stories of their sword exercises and their daily life. Katrina, for her part, listened attentively, sometimes nodding, sometimes giving dry commentary that, strangely enough, made them laugh.
And when it was time for them to head to bed, Katrina stood from her seat.
"...Goodnight, my angels," she said awkwardly, patting each twin on the head with a hesitant but sincere hand.
Luke and Lysandra blinked in shock, then beamed.
"Goodnight, Grandma."