A few moments later…
Raymond rose and sat at his desk. He lit the oil lamp, pulled a sheet of paper from the drawer, and began writing in ink.
Just a few brief lines—words that revealed nothing, hiding far more than they said.
"This is the first time… do you remember what we spoke about long ago?
I'll be waiting for your reply…"
When he finished writing and placed the letter inside its envelope, he sealed it with red wax, pressing a symbol of a bird onto it, then stood up from his chair.
At that moment, the stillness of dawn was broken by his roommate's voice, startling him while he was still focused on his task.
"Do you usually suffer from insomnia?"
Raymond lifted his head slowly, as if returning from another world. He hesitated, then turned his gaze aside and replied calmly.
"Not really. I've had enough sleep… Ah—sorry for waking you, Lord Hertford."
Lucas showed no visible irritation. He let out a light sigh as he rose from his bed, as though he had expected such an answer, then walked toward the wardrobe with measured, quiet steps.
"It's fine. In any case… it seems I've had enough sleep as well."
He paused for a moment, then added in a steady tone,
"And there's no need to use my family title every time.
It makes me feel as though I'm dealing with staff back at the manor."
Raymond answered briefly,
"I understand…"
Lucas turned toward him, casting a short glance—neutral, unreadable, yet deep—before pulling his clothes from the wardrobe.
"Just call me Lucas. We're around the same age, after all, so there's no need for titles.
Besides… titles don't make anyone better than another."
A flicker of confusion crossed Raymond's face, as if Lucas's words were not what he had expected from the heir to a duchy. He blinked once, unsettled by that calm sincerity.
"That will be… a little difficult,"
he said quietly.
"I'm not used to this kind of treatment."
Lucas closed the wardrobe gently, as though weighing Raymond's words without judgment.
"If it's difficult because you're accustomed to being treated differently, then it's a habit you should discard.
Respect isn't something granted by a title—it's something earned."
His tone wasn't harsh, but straight and composed, like someone stating a simple truth that required no raised voice.
And perhaps because of that simplicity, it was a truth easily forgotten—or ignored.
Raymond found himself reflecting on the new image Lucas had formed through this unexpected conversation before replying,
"Yes… that's how things should be."
He let out a quiet breath, put on his uniform and coat, then took the letter he had finished earlier.
As he stepped toward the door, Lucas stopped him once more.
"Baskerville… I have a few more words for you."
"Huh?"
"I know you're introverted, and that speaking with others for long periods can be exhausting for you—but you need to get used to it."
"That's not—"
Raymond hesitated. Half of Lucas's words were true, the other half inaccurate, yet he didn't know how to correct him.
He simply sighed and walked beside him, choosing to listen instead.
The two walked through the empty hallway in heavy silence before Lucas spoke again.
"I'm aware of your personal circumstances, and I have no intention of interfering—but…"
Raymond stiffened at the weight of those words and looked away, yet Lucas continued without concern.
"I noticed the tension between you and Klein yesterday.
It may be related to what happened between you, but I don't want you to misunderstand him."
"What do you mean?"
Raymond asked, casting him a wary look.
"I've known him for quite some time. And judging by your reactions—which are rather easy to read—I can tell that something is off."
"I'm easy to read?"
Raymond replied with dry sarcasm before adding more seriously,
"Are you implying that's an insult?"
"It's not as if we argued. I only met him yesterday, after all. But it seems I overstepped and said something that offended him."
Lucas glanced at him briefly and murmured,
"I see…"
After observing Raymond's clear expressions for a moment, Lucas spoke again.
"You're… a good person, after all."
Raymond blinked, lifting his brow slightly in confusion, unsure of what was happening.
Lucas continued,
"You resemble him in some ways. But you're more sensitive than he is—and that could be a weakness.
Either way, I believe there's simply a misunderstanding between the two of you. Seeing you now, I'm certain of it."
"That's not exactly a comparison that flatters him,"
Raymond muttered.
Lucas laughed, causing Raymond to pause in surprise.
He hadn't thought Lucas was the type to make that expression.
After a brief reflection, Raymond realized he hadn't truly understood him before—this being the longest conversation they'd shared so far.
Lucas was calm by nature, easily irritable at times, yet remarkably observant, caring for those around him more than Raymond had assumed.
Someone like that would make a genuinely good friend.
For a moment, Raymond felt a hint of jealousy toward Gilbert, who already held that role.
He brushed the thought aside and asked hesitantly,
"You said earlier that you know my circumstances… and why people keep their distance from me.
Then why did you treat me normally… despite all of that?"
Lucas stopped walking and looked at Raymond calmly.
He had always thought Raymond didn't want to acknowledge it aloud, yet here he was asking directly—despite the weight of the answer he feared.
That fear showed in his pale face and lowered gaze.
Lucas looked ahead, toward the end of the corridor.
A trace of cold anger flickered in his dark eyes as he replied more sharply,
"I don't care about the nonsense spread by rumors. I believe only what my own eyes see—and choose what I want to believe based on that."
Then he looked back at Raymond, his expression softening.
"And what I see before me is someone more deserving of respect than most.
Perhaps because of what you went through, you lost confidence in yourself—and in others—but you're honest, and genuinely kind.
That's what I see.
What do you think?"
Raymond hesitated and looked away, unsure how to respond.
He shouldn't have been placed in such a situation, yet he now found himself caught between gratitude and self-doubt.
After a moment, he smiled faintly and answered in a low voice,
"I think you're overestimating me… but I'm grateful for your words.
I believe I needed to hear them more than anything else."
Lucas met his gaze directly, speaking with certainty.
"I don't exaggerate. What I say is always the truth."
Raymond laughed softly.
"Isn't that a bit arrogant?"
Lucas resumed walking, looking away as he replied with a confident smile,
"I don't call it arrogance—I call it confidence. One needs confidence to keep moving forward.
And that's exactly what you need, Ray."
A small smile appeared on Raymond's lips.
"I'll try to believe your words."
After a moment, realization struck him and he asked hesitantly,
"Wait… what did you just call me?"
"Ray"
Raymond opened his mouth to respond, but no sound came out at first. When he tried again, his voice was quieter—embarrassed.
"Why… do you call me that?"
"Why not? Don't you like it?"
Raymond exhaled, collecting himself.
"That's not what I mean.
No one has ever called me that—except my older brother.
It just caught me off guard."
Lucas's eyes widened briefly before he smiled wryly and replied more seriously,
"I see. But since you don't mind, I suppose it's fine."
Raymond smiled tiredly.
"Fine… you win. Call me whatever you like."
"Then you can call me Lucas. I'd be glad if we became friends, Ray."
The tension eased from Raymond's expression.
The corners of his lips lifted gently—a small smile, yet one that carried a strange sense of peace, as though the world had grown lighter for a brief moment.
"I understand… Lucas.
The honor is mine as well."
They were simple words, but they carried his sincerity clearly enough to make Lucas smile without realizing it.
After passing through the student building corridors and reaching the empty academy grounds, the first light of dawn appeared on the horizon, the lamps extinguishing one by one.
They parted ways, each heading in a different direction.
Raymond walked toward the visitor reception building, where outgoing mail was collected by the academy staff.
He left the envelope there, marked with his signature and the designated address.
Beside the signature was the recipient's name
"Mikael Baskerville."
Raymond smiled after reading it.
"I look forward to seeing you again, brother."