The following night, Mira appeared in his room after dinner.
She knocked on the door softly, almost fearfully, and when Kael opened it, she was there with a handkerchief wrapping three honey cakes and two pieces of dark chocolate.
"Young Kael," she said with a trembling voice, without looking him in the eye. "I... Ser Aldric said you wanted..."
"Thank you, Mira," Kael said, taking the handkerchief. "You may go."
She hesitated, as if she wanted to say something else, but finally just nodded and hurried back down the hallway.
Kael closed the door and sat on his bed, unwrapping the sweets carefully. The chocolate melted slightly on his fingers, and the first bite was disappointing.
It didn't taste as good as he expected. In fact, it tasted quite ordinary.
But it wasn't really about the sweets, was it?
It was about knowing he could get them. That he had seen an opportunity and taken it. That he had made two adults, a trained knight and a maid, do exactly what he wanted.
'First lesson,' he thought while mechanically chewing the chocolate. 'Information is power. But only if you are willing to use it.'
'Second lesson: People will do almost anything to protect their secrets.'
'Third lesson...'
He stopped, considering.
'Third lesson: This doesn't feel as good as I thought it would.'
He had expected euphoria. Triumph. The intoxicating feeling of victory.
And there was some of that, yes. But there was also something else. Something cold and empty that settled in his stomach alongside the chocolate.
Mira wasn't a bad person. She was a victim. And he had used her. Maybe not as cruelly as Aldric, but he had used her nonetheless.
'Does that make me bad?' he wondered.
And then, more disturbingly: 'Do I care if I am?'
He found no answer that night. He just finished his sweets, washed his hands, and lay down staring at the ceiling while the storm roared outside.
But as he fell asleep, a small smile touched his lips.
Because bad or good didn't really matter.
What mattered was that he was no longer invisible.
At least not to Mira and Aldric.
And that was a start.
The sweets continued arriving for the next three days. Every night, after dinner, Mira appeared with her small wrapped package. She never spoke more than necessary, never looked him in the eye, simply delivered the sweets and left.
Kael ate them without much pleasure. The taste had become secondary to what they represented: tangible proof that he had learned something important.
But on the fourth day, something changed.
Kael was in the secondary library—because Sareth had a private music lesson Elyn had insisted he take ("he needs at least one refined skill if he cannot be a warrior")—when he heard familiar footsteps approaching.
He looked up from his book just as Lyssara entered.
She closed the door behind her. Locked it.
Kael felt his pulse quicken, but kept his face perfectly neutral.
"Cousin," he said with a polite tone, using the correct technical term. They shared a father but not a mother, making them half-siblings, but in the complexities of nobility, "cousin" was sometimes more appropriate.
"Kael," Lyssara replied, and her voice was cold as scraped ice. "We need to talk."
She approached with measured steps, her dark blue dress whispering against the stone floor. At thirteen, she already moved with the kind of deliberate control most people took decades to learn.
She sat in the chair opposite him, crossing her hands in her lap, and studied him with those calculating grey eyes that saw too much.
"I have noticed something interesting," she said. "Mira, the kitchen maid, has been visiting your room every night after dinner."
Kael didn't react. Not visibly. But his mind raced.
'How did she know? Has she been watching me? Why?'
"I didn't know you paid attention to the movements of the maids," he said carefully.
"I pay attention to everything," Lyssara corrected. "It is a useful habit. And when I see unusual patterns, I investigate."
"It is nothing important. She just brings me..."
"Sweets. I know," Lyssara leaned forward slightly. "What I wonder is: why? Mira has never shown particular affection for you. In fact, she works mainly in the kitchens and rarely interacts with the family outside the dining hall. Yet, suddenly, she is making personal deliveries. Every night. Without fail."
Kael realized he had seriously underestimated Lyssara.
'She didn't just notice the pattern,' he understood. 'She is looking for the explanation. And she probably already has theories.'
"Maybe she just likes me," he tried.
Lyssara laughed. It wasn't a joyful laugh. It was the sound of someone who had just heard something absurdly naive.
"Please. No one in this manor does anything without a reason. Especially not the maids, who understand better than anyone that every action has consequences."
She stood up, walking toward the window, deliberately turning her back on him. It was a show of confidence, or perhaps disdain. She was saying she didn't consider him a physical threat.
"So I investigated further," she continued. "And I discovered that Ser Aldric has been, let's say, unusually interested in Mira for the last few weeks. And that four nights ago, both were seen near the stables at midnight."
'Shit.'
"And then I remembered something," Lyssara turned, her eyes locking onto Kael's. "Four nights ago, I couldn't sleep. I was walking through the hallways when I saw a small figure, too small to be an adult, slipping toward the stables."
Kael kept his face immobile, but his mind was screaming.
'She saw me. She saw me and said nothing. She has been waiting. Watching. Building the complete puzzle before confronting me.'
'Just like I would do.'
"Impressive investigative work," he said finally, deciding that denying was useless. "What do you want?"
Lyssara smiled. It was a small smile, sharp as a dagger.
"There it is. No attempts at denial. No excuses. Straight to business," she sat down again, this time closer. "You are smarter than I thought, Kael. Which makes me wonder what else you have been hiding."
"I am only eight years old," he pointed out. "I haven't had much time to hide things."
"And yet, you have already learned basic blackmail. Fascinating," Lyssara tilted her head, studying him like a hawk studying prey. "So here is my question: how was your Resonance Ceremony really?"
Kael felt his blood run cold.
'There it is. The real reason for this conversation.'
"You already know the result," he said carefully. "Moderate, with decent potential."
"Yes, that is what the priest declared," Lyssara leaned even closer, lowering her voice to a whisper. "But I was there, Kael. And I saw something no one else saw. Or that they saw but decided to ignore."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"The crystal glowed normal. Drayvar Blue. That was expected," her eyes narrowed. "But for a fraction of a second, I saw a greater flash."
The silence that followed was so heavy Kael could feel it crushing him.
"That is impossible," he said finally. "The crystal cannot give two glows. It doesn't work..."
"I know. That is why I said nothing. Because it shouldn't be possible," Lyssara leaned back, but her eyes never left his. "But I saw it. And I have been waiting to see if you knew what it meant."
"I don't know," admitted Kael, and it was true. "I never knew. I thought I had imagined it."
"You didn't. And neither did I," Lyssara tapped her fingers against the arm of the chair, thinking. "Which means you are something different. I don't know what. But different."
"And what do you plan to do with that information?"
It was the same question he had used with Aldric. Information as currency. Secrets as power.
Lyssara realized it and smiled with appreciation.
"For now, nothing," she stood up, smoothing her dress. "But I want you to know that I know. And that I am watching. Because if you are smart enough to blackmail a knight at eight years old, and if you have something rare in your blood that not even the priests can explain..."
She walked toward the door, unlocking the latch.
"Then maybe you are the most interesting person in this boring manor. And that, dear cousin, makes you someone worth knowing."
She opened the door, but stopped on the threshold.
"Oh, and Kael. A suggestion. If you are going to keep extorting people, make sure no one else is watching. Because next time, the person who discovers you might not be as understanding as I am."
And she left, leaving Kael alone in the library with a forgotten book in his lap and a million thoughts running through his head.
'Lyssara knows. About the sweets. About the blackmail. About the confusing flash at my ceremony.'
'And she didn't use it against me.'
'Why?'
The answer came slowly, like fog clearing.
'Because she wants to see what I do. She is testing me. Evaluating if I am useful or just curious.'
'Just like I would do.'
Kael closed his book and looked toward the door where Lyssara had disappeared.
'Very well,' he thought. 'If she wants to watch, let her watch. But she isn't the only one who can play this game.'
For the first time since he had taken those sweets from Mira, Kael felt something more than that cold emptiness.
He felt excitement.
Because Lyssara had just shown him something important—he wasn't alone in seeing the world as a chessboard.
And that meant he had finally found someone worth playing with.
Even if she didn't know yet that the game had begun.