The carriage rattled along, the rhythmic clop of hooves echoing as the trees and rooftops slid past. I leaned my cheek against the window, watching the scenery blur by. At least the trip was quiet. Kael, sitting across from me, hadn't spoken much since we left. His eyes were half-lidded, one arm lazily draped across the seat.
Peaceful. Almost too peaceful.
Then he snapped his fingers.
The view outside… shifted. It was as if we'd slipped through a shadow, one blink and the road ahead turned darker. The next blink, and the carriage screeched to a halt.
I jerked forward. "Wha—what happened? Did we crash?"
Kael stretched, completely unbothered. "I don't like long carriage rides. So I shortened it."
"Shortened it… with magic?"
He grinned faintly. "A little trick of mine." And then he opened the carriage door, stepping out with the grace of someone arriving at a royal palace. "Welcome to my mansion."
I leaned out of the carriage. My jaw fell open.
"…This? This is a mansion?"
Before me loomed a giant, crumbling husk of a building. Vines twisted up the stone walls like claws. Half the windows were shuttered, the others stared blankly with glass cracked or missing. The iron gate groaned like a dying beast when the driver pulled it open. The whole place smelled like damp earth and old secrets.
"This looks like some haunted house," I muttered. "Are you sure we're not about to be murdered by ghosts?"
Kael chuckled. "Don't mind the appearance. Come along."
Sure. And next, he'd tell me the skeletons in the closet were just for decoration.
Inside was worse. Much worse.
Dust blanketed everything. The floor creaked with every step, cobwebs draped like curtains from the ceiling. The air smelled faintly of mildew—and something else I really didn't want to identify.
Kael led me down the hall as if this was all perfectly normal. "Your room is this way."
He stopped before a door and pushed it open. I peeked inside. My stomach dropped.
It was… huge. Spacious. In another life, it could've been grand. But right now? The room was choked with cobwebs, the curtains drawn so tightly no light seeped through, the air stale and musty. A sheet still covered the bed, spotted with dust and who-knew-what else. A cracked wardrobe leaned to one side like it had given up on life.
I pinched my nose. "Did something die here?"
Kael crossed his arms, nodding approvingly. "Yes. This will do."
"Do? This is a horror exhibit!"
"You just have to clean it a little." He waved his hand as if I were overreacting. "Then it will be perfectly fine."
I stared at him. "Don't you have, I don't know, a maid? Or a cleaning staff? Or an exorcist?"
"No need." He smiled, perfectly calm. "I hardly live here. I am always traveling. The only rooms maintained are my quarters, the kitchen, and the bathroom."
I blinked. Then blinked again.
What… What was happening? This wasn't real, right? Father said Kael had a mansion. Mansions meant luxury, meals, maybe even a few friendly attendants. Not… this.
Kael clapped his hands. "You will begin training tomorrow. Rest up tonight."
And with that, he left. Just like that.
I stared at the room. Then at the cobwebs. Then at the bed that looked like it would eat me alive if I touched it.
"…Rest? In this?!"
The next few hours were chaotic.
I grabbed an old rag and started swiping at the dust. Every puff made me cough. I yanked open the curtains dramatically, only to stumble back coughing as sunlight revealed the room's horrors in full detail. Dead bugs, broken furniture, and—oh, great—a spider the size of my hand.
"This is not training," I muttered, holding up the rag like it was a sword. "This is survival."
At one point, I tied the rag around my mouth like a bandit mask, raised a broom like a spear, and declared: "Tonight, this room will know the wrath of Sir Lucian, Slayer of Dust!"
The spiders were unimpressed.
But little by little, the webs disappeared, the air grew clearer, and by the time the sun dipped below the horizon, the room looked halfway livable. I flopped onto the bed with a groan, sweat sticking to my forehead.
"Victory…" I mumbled.
"Lucian!" Kael's voice echoed from below. "Dinner!"
I dragged myself downstairs, expecting—well, not much, but at least something decent. Maybe roasted meat, some stew, bread…
On the table sat bread and soup.
Just bread. And soup. The soup didn't even have color. It was basically hot water with a leaf floating in it.
I stared. "…What is this?"
"Dinner." Kael spooned some soup calmly, as if this wasn't a crime against humanity. "We don't have much ration, so this is what I prepared."
I dipped the spoon. I tasted it. And instantly wanted to weep. "It doesn't even have salt."
Kael shrugged. "Eat up and rest well. Training begins tomorrow."
I looked at the bread. I looked at the soup. Looked at Kael.
This man… was not what I expected. Not at all.
Still, I chewed the bland bread, washed it down with sad soup, and sighed. "So this is my life now, huh?"
Kael just smiled.