Lucas's POV
Mother, is that you?
Is that you I'm seeing, floating in the sky?
Mother, do you know? I still relive that day, the day you died.
I’m certain things wouldn't had turned out that way if only I'd acted differently, and that thought gnaws at me. I try to push it away, but some days, it’s impossible not to think about.
Mother, do you know? He cried so much for you. Your lover. I can still picture his face, full of grief—heartbroken, but also... so angry.
Angry at me. I saw it in his eyes—hatred, just like the look in your eyes now, Mother.
Mother, do you know? I miss you, I really do.
I doubt you'll ever forgive me however, I did rob you of a happily ever after.
Mother, why won't you say anything? Ah, right, this is a dream, isn't it? Just a silly dream.
If this is a dream, I can say what's on my mind, right? Mother, you know, I miss you... But I'm so glad you never got to marry that man. I think I would have died on the inside if you did, I-
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"Wake up, Master Lucas!"
"Ah?!" Lucas's eyes flew open, startled. Clarisse was standing over him, her expression gentle yet firm.
"Sorry, was I too rough waking you? I think Devin's bad habits are rubbing off on me."
"...N-No, it's fine. I was just having a dream, Clarisse." Lucas mumbled as he slowly pushed himself up from the soft bed sheets. It really was a comfortable bed.
"A dream? Might I ask what it's about? You did look like you were having a nightmare."
"I... I can't remember." Lucas answered as he ran his hand through his tousled blond hair.
What WAS I dreaming about? It wasn't a good dream, I'm sure of that.
"I see." Clarisse’s voice was calm as she smoothly shifted the topic. "Some of the male servants will be here soon to help you dress."
"I can dress by myself Clarisse, really." Lucas insisted.
Lucas has now been here in Devereaux Hall for about 15 days, over two weeks, and he has still yet to get used to this part—having people help him with something as basic as getting dressed. It wasn’t embarrassment so much as the feeling of being treated like a helpless child.
But Clarisse was having none of it, and Lucas knew better than to argue with her.
"I'll be taking my leave now, Master Lucas." Clarisse said to a defeated looking Lucas as she turned towards the door. "I have duties I need to attend too. Is there anything you need from me?"
"No, but... are you alright, Clarisse?" Lucas asked, concern flickering across his face. "I feel you haven’t seemed well these past few days."
Clarisse appeared shocked for a second, a contrast of her usually calm and collected face.
I wonder if something is troubling her? Maybe I can help her?
"I'm... I'm fine, Master Lucas," She replied, quickly regaining her poise. "There’s no need for you to have concern over someone like me."
"...If you say so."
Lucas wasn't sure how to respond. He understands well that as the son of a Duke, he shouldn't take a special interest in a maid who serves his family, but Clarisse has been one of the first servants he met since he came to this crazy place, so he couldn't help it really.
He did, however, have much on his mind besides Clarisse.
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Later on that day, during a lesson with Count Alistair, Lucas made sure to ask him something he was most curious about.
"Count Alistair, might I ask you something?" Lucas spoke, his voice steady but curious. "Would you be willing to tell me more about the civil war that took place 16 years ago?"
The Count paused, visibly taken aback by the sudden inquiry.
"Are you curious about it? How so?" Alistair asked as he adjusted his glasses, he regarded Lucas with a mix of surprise and caution.
"Well, my uncle, Leopold's father, did die in it." Lucas answered honestly. "I can't help but be curious."
A sigh escaped the Count as he leaned back, clearly displeased with himself. "Hmm, I really messed up by telling you about that, huh?" Alistair didn't look happy. "But alright, I don't mind answering any questions you have about the war."
Finally, my chance to learn more about it!
"Then... My first question: How did it start? What was the reason behind it?" Lucas asked, his heart pounding in anticipation.
Alistair folded his hands before him. "Master Lucas, do you recall what I told you? The war began shortly after King Alaric von Valtoria III ascended the throne, barely a few months in."
Lucas nodded.
"To put it plainly, it was a war for the throne." Alistair’s voice grew colder, more distant. Lucas felt his heart drop as the Count answered. "A usurpation."
Usurpation...?
" King Alaric von Valtoria III's younger brother, Prince Maelvon, started the war." Alistair continued. "The god forsaken prince wanted the throne from his brother, and he was ready to kill for it."
"...The King's brother started the war? For the throne?" Lucas repeated, his disbelief evident in his voice.
"That’s right," Alistair confirmed grimly. "The civil war divided the Kingdom in two. The Tarragon Duchy to the north and Tedia Duchy to the south of the Kingdom stood with the King. Meanwhile, the Iangla Duchy to the west of the Kingdom sided with the Prince. A bloody war followed, and it’s during that conflict that your late uncle, Master Maximilian von Devereaux, lost his life in battle."
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Lucas took a minute to process all he was told.
"...Why did...The Iangla Duchy side with the Prince? Why would they betray the King?" Lucas asked another question quietly, his voice almost a whisper.
Why would they betray the King? Why would Prince Maelvon betray his own brother? Families are suppose to stick together, right?
"Prince Maelvon was married to the daughter of the Duke of Iangla at the time, so they had an alliance. If they could get his majesty, King Alaric, off the throne, they would assure the Prince sits on it instead. Any children the Prince has then would be related to the ruling family of Iangla Duchy. It was too good of a deal for the foolish Duke to pass up."
"Oh... So that's why..." Lucas murmured, the logic bitter in his mouth.
Is this what it means to be a noble?
"But in the end, it was the King’s forces that triumphed," Alistair continued, his eyes drifting toward the clear blue sky outside the window. "I still remember the day we won. It was joyous—an end to the bloodshed. Even my own father fought in that war."
"And what... what happened to those who sided with the Prince?" Lucas hesitated to ask, sensing he might not want the answer.
Alistair’s gaze grew heavy. "They were dealt with, as traitors are. Every noble who supported the Prince was executed. The King made sure of it."
Executed?!
Lucas’s stomach turned at the thought, he found it hard to imagine such an event took place. He found it hard to imagine had he been a few decades older, he might had lived through such an event and experienced it first hand.
"I'm scared to ask, but... What about Prince Maelvon? What happened to the Prince who betrayed his brother?"
Alistair turned his gaze from the window to look at Lucas.
"He, too, was executed. In the most brutal fashion there is, might I add. An execution fitting for a traitor."
Silence filled the room, thick and suffocating. Lucas didn’t ask any more questions. He had learned the truth about the civil war, but he wished—deep in his heart—that he could somehow unhear it.
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Soon after the lesson was over, Lucas found himself wondering around Devereaux Hall aimlessly, with no destination in mind. He had too much to think about.
A Prince who betrayed the King...
A brother who betrayed his own brother...All for the throne.
I wonder, in this tale that is my life, which one am I? Am I the King? Or am I the Prince?
Elliot, oh Elliot...
As if summoned by his thoughts, Elliot’s cheerful voice rang out.
"There you are, Lucas!!"
Lucas turned to see Elliot sprinting towards him, a bright smile on his face.
"Elliot..."
"There you are! Where were you?! I kept waiting for your lesson to be over, only to learn it has been over for ages, and that you left already!" Elliot spoke as he tried to catch his breath, he was struggling, but the grin never left his face.
"...Did you need something? Did something happen?" Lucas asked, finding it hard to force a smile.
"Hm? No, haha. I just wanted us to play together again, silly!" Elliot smiled, a warm smile that could light the room. The kind of smile that could melt any frozen heart.
Why, Elliot? Why are you so nice? Shouldn't you want me dead instead?
“I don’t think I’m in the mood to play today, Elliot. I’m sorry.” Lucas said, his voice heavy with the weight of emotions he was trying to bury.
“Aww, how lame! But I get it. Count Alistair must’ve been really tough today with his lesson, huh? I wouldn’t be in the mood for playing either!” Elliot chuckled, his bright eyes filled with understanding.
"Yeah... I suppose you could say that happened." Was all Lucas said.
Elliot’s playful grin faded, replaced by concern. "Are you okay? You seem a little off, Lucas." He asked, noticing Lucas's behavior.
"Elliot... You really are a kind boy, you know that?" Lucas’s gaze softened as he gazed at Elliot's green eyes.
You are a butterfly, Elliot.
A beautiful, golden butterfly only few are blessed enough to be able to lay eyes on.
"Haha, I know! My mom always taught me to be kind to others, so I try my best!" Elliot laughed, a light-hearted sound that almost made Lucas’s heart ache. "Where is this coming from?"
"Elliot, are you really... Glad I'm here? Truly?" Lucas asked, he just had to know.
Elliot blinked in confusion.
"Did I make you feel like I don't think I'm glad you're here?" Elliot answered with a question. Lucas could see that his brother was confused.
"N-No, not at all! Not at all!" Lucas quickly reassured him.
"Then... Huh?" Elliot's gaze went someplace behind Lucas.
Lucas turned to see what had caught his brother’s attention. There, walking together and chatting like they didn’t have a care in the world, were Leopold and Isabella.
"Really? You did that?" Isabella asked Leopold, a smile on her pretty face.
"Yes, and then after that I had to sneak out without anyone seeing me! Haha!" Leopold talked to her, both of them laughing, not noticing the stares of Lucas and Elliot.
They look so happy, as if they were in their own little world for a second.
Lucas felt something tighten in his chest. This feeling was all too familiar to him.
This is how I felt whenever I saw dear mother and that man together... I hated it then, and I hate it now.
I don't want Leopold to see Isabella's beautiful smile. I don’t want anyone else but me to see that smile.
Suddenly, Elliot bolted in the opposite direction, tearing Lucas from his spiraling thoughts.
"Elliot?! Wait!" Lucas called out, chasing after his brother, the echo of his steps drowning out the laughter behind him.
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Lucas sprinted after Elliot, the sound of his footsteps echoing through the grand hallways. His heart raced, not just from the physical exertion, but from the suddenness of it all.
"Elliot! Stop!" Lucas shouted, his voice desperate as he closed the distance.
He can be really fast!
But Elliot didn’t stop. He ran faster, as if something was chasing him. Lucas pushed himself harder, finally catching sight of Elliot darting into one of the side corridors, disappearing around a corner.
When Lucas finally turned the corner, he found Elliot standing with his back to him, his shoulders shaking.
"Elliot..." Lucas approached cautiously, his breath ragged. "Why did you run like that?"
Elliot didn’t respond at first. Instead, his trembling grew worse, and Lucas could hear the soft sound of sobbing.
"Elliot?" Lucas took another step forward, his voice softer now. "What’s wrong?"
I know what's wrong, Elliot, I know...
Finally, Elliot turned around, tears streaming down his face. His usual cheerful demeanor was nowhere to be found. His eyes, red and puffy, were filled with a kind of pain Lucas had never seen before.
"It... it hurts so much, Lucas..." Elliot's voice was choked with sobs. "Seeing her like that... with him... it hurts so much!"
Lucas’s heart twisted. He knew exactly what Elliot was feeling. The jealousy, the loneliness, the aching emptiness. He knew it all too well.
"Elliot..." Lucas whispered, unsure of what to say.
"I feel like she's leaving me behind...I knew this day would come..." Elliot continued, his voice breaking. "Isabella... She’s always with Leopold these days, always laughing with him. I hate it! I hate seeing her smile at him like that!"
Elliot’s hands balled into fists as more tears poured down his cheeks. "I don’t want her to smile at anyone else, Lucas. I want her to smile at me! Only me!"
Lucas stood frozen, the weight of Elliot’s words sinking deep into his heart. It was the same pain that had plagued him every time his mother had smiled at her lover. The same jealousy, the same fear of being left behind.
We really are alike, us two...
My butterfly.
My tragic, golden butterfly.
"I... I feel so alone, Lucas..." Elliot sobbed, collapsing to his knees. "If only I wasn't so..." The boy didn't finish his sentence, leaving Lucas wondering what he was about to say.
Lucas knelt beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder, his own heart aching.
"Y-You’re not alone, Elliot," Lucas said, his voice firm despite the storm of emotions inside him. "You’ll never be alone. I promise. I'll always be here for you."
But before Elliot could respond, his eyes fluttered. His body swayed, and suddenly, his legs gave out from under him.
"Elliot!" Lucas shouted, catching him just in time before he hit the floor.
"Elliot? Elliot!" Panic surged through Lucas as he cradled his unconscious brother in his arms. "Elliot, wake up!"
Terror gripped him as he shook Elliot gently, but there was no response. His brother's face was pale, his breathing shallow.
His heart pounded in his chest, each second feeling like an eternity as he waited, desperately hoping someone would come. He held onto Elliot tightly, fear gripping him as his brother’s limp form lay motionless in his arms.
"Elliot... please... don’t leave me too..." Lucas whispered, his voice cracking.
Within moments, hurried footsteps echoed from the distance as help finally approached, but to Lucas, it felt like an eternity.
My butterfly.
My beautiful butterfly.
Don't ever leave me.