(The Magic Tower of Velmoria)
Luca returned to the Magic Tower. His footsteps echoed through the corridor, his mind still lingering on the conversation he had shared with Eva.
“Master,” a voice called out hesitantly.
Luca stopped.
The magician hurried toward him and bowed deeply. “Master… were you able to meet Lady Eva?”
Luca’s gaze flicked toward him—sharp, unreadable. “Yes,” he said calmly. “I met her.”
Relief washed over the magician’s face. Encouraged, he spoke again.
“Master, if I may ask… who exactly is that lady?” he said carefully. “When she came here, she said she was here to meet the assistant of the Master of the Magic Tower.”
Luca’s steps slowed.
“I was confused,” the magician continued nervously, “because you don’t have an assistant. So I asked her the name of assistant she was talking about… and she told me your name.”
The magician swallowed. “That’s when I realized she didn’t know you are the Master of the Magic Tower. So… I didn’t tell her about your identity.....i hope i didn't make a mistake master.”
Luca turned fully toward him. For a long moment, he said nothing. Then— “You did a good job,” Luca said quietly.
The magician exhaled in relief.
“Master…” he ventured cautiously, curiosity getting the better of him. “Is Lady Eva your lover?” He added quickly, “She even brought cupcakes for you…”
In a flash, Luca grabbed the magician by the collar and slammed him against the wall.
“Watch your tongue,” Luca hissed, his eyes glowing faintly with mana. “Or I’ll rip it out of your mouth.”
The magician’s face drained of color. “I—I apologize, Master!”
“Look at me,” Luca commanded coldly.
Trembling, the magician lifted his gaze.
Luca flicked his finger. A soft pulse of magic shimmered through the air, glowing briefly before sinking into the magician’s eyes. The memories unraveled. Every word. Every face. Every moment involving Eva—erased.
Luca released his grip.
The magician staggered back, blinking in confusion as he looked around. “Master… did something happen?” he asked hesitantly. “I was attending to a guest. Why am I here?”
Luca’s expression returned to its usual calm. “You came to greet me,” he said smoothly. “Now go. Do your work.”
“Yes, Master,” the magician replied at once, bowing deeply.
He turned to leave—then stopped. “Ah—Master,” he said, as if suddenly remembering something important. “You have a guest waiting for you in your chamber.”
Luca’s eyes darkened. “A guest?” he snapped. “Who is it—and how dare you let anyone into my chamber without my permission? Have you lost your mind?”
The magician stiffened in fear. “M-Master… the guest is—”
He swallowed hard. “—His Majesty, the Emperor.”
Luca froze.
Then his expression changed instantly, lighting up with genuine surprise.
“…Eyan?” he murmured.
Without another word, Luca turned and rushed toward his chamber, his long coat sweeping behind him.
--------------------------------------------------------
Luca pushed the door open with barely contained excitement.
Inside the chamber, Eyan stood near the table, arms folded, his posture composed as ever—silver hair catching the glow of the floating mage lights.
The moment Eyan turned and saw him, a small smile curved his lips. “You’re bac—”
Luca didn’t let him finish. He rushed forward and grabbed Eyan by the shoulders, eyes searching his face with urgency.
“Do you know?” Luca asked eagerly. “Do you know or not?”
Eyan blinked. “Know what?” he replied calmly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
The light in Luca’s eyes dimmed instantly. “Oh,” he said quietly. “You don’t…”
Eyan watched Luca’s expression fall, his lips twitching as he struggled to hold back his laughter.
Luca lowered his gaze. “Then tell me,” he said softly. “Why are you here?”
That was enough. Eyan finally broke, smiling openly. “I came to tell you,” he said, “that you’re going to be an uncle.”
For a split second, Luca froze. Then his face lit up brilliantly.
A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
“You—!” Luca lunged forward and pulled Eyan into a headlock, laughing loudly. “You bastard! You were playing with me!”
Eyan burst into laughter. “Alright, alright! I’m sorry!”
Luca released him at last, still grinning ear to ear, and wrapped him in a tight hug. “I’m so happy,” Luca said, hugging him fiercely.
Eyan groaned, trying to push him away. “Stop—what are you doing? I’ve told you so many times not to hug me.”
“Don’t be so cold,” Luca replied cheerfully, tightening his grip. “You just received the most wonderful news. At least let me hug you for it.”
Eyan sighed—but then his resistance softened. Slowly, he returned the hug, a rare, genuine smile touching his face.
After a moment, Luca pulled back, eyes shining. “I’m really happy,” he said. “I’m going to be an uncle.”
Eyan laughed quietly. “You look happier than the father himself.”
“Of course I am!” Luca exclaimed. “I’ll finally have a niece or nephew to hold in my arms, to spoil with everything I have.”
He leaned closer, eyes gleaming mischievously.
“And let me tell you this, Eyan—the child will love their uncle more than their father.”
“That’s not going to happen,” Eyan said flatly.
“Oh, it will ,” Luca replied confidently. “And one more thing—I'm going to teach your child magic. Your child will be my student.”
“Bu—”
“I’m not asking for your permission,” Luca interrupted, pointing at him. “I’m informing you. Your child will call me . Is that clear?”
Eyan sighed deeply. “Fine, fine. But first—let the child be born.”
Luca chuckled, nodding. “Right… there’s still time.”
The laughter lingered in the chamber—bright, sincere, and fleeting.
Luca gestured toward the couch with an easy smile. “Why are you still standing? Come—let’s sit and talk.”
Eyan nodded, and the two of them settled onto the couch. With a brief wave of his hand, Luca summoned a servant and asked for tea. Soft footsteps retreated down the corridor, leaving the chamber wrapped in calm silence.
Luca leaned back slightly, his expression turning serious. “Eyan,” he began, “now that Sister-in-law is carrying a child, you need to take even greater care of her. Make sure she doesn’t get hurt—even in the smallest way.”
“As you know,” Luca continued, “that child carries Therald blood. Because of that, no magic will work on her now. If she gets injured…”
He paused. “…even I won’t be able to heal her.”
“I know,” Eyan said quietly. “That’s why I told her not to step out of bed at all.”
He let out a slow breath, fingers curling together. “But I don’t know what to do about her vomiting,” he admitted. “Every scent makes her sick. She can’t eat anything properly now that she’s pregnant.”
Luca smiled gently. “Don’t worry so much,” he said reassuringly. “It’s normal for her to feel that way. The nausea, the sensitivity to smells—it happens to most women in the early months.”
“For how long?” Eyan asked immediately.
“Two to three months,” Luca replied. “After that, her body will adjust, and she’ll start to feel better.”
Eyan frowned. “Two or three months… that’s a long time.”
Luca shook his head. “It only feels long because you’re anxious. Don’t burden yourself too much.”
He reached over and gave Eyan’s shoulder a light pat. “She will be fine,” Luca said with quiet confidence. “And so will the child.”
At that moment, the servant returned with a tray of warm tea, the gentle aroma filling the room.
Eyan lifted the teacup slowly, the steam brushing against his face. He stared into the dark surface for a moment—then, without taking a single sip, placed it back onto the table.
“Luca,” he said quietly, “I’ve decided something.”
Luca blinked, taken aback. “Decided… what?”
Eyan’s gaze didn’t waver. “I’ve decided I’ll tell Eva the truth.”
Luca froze. Then he choked on his tea.
“Eyan—are you sure about that?” he coughed, setting the cup down hurriedly.
“Yes,” Eyan replied firmly. “I’ve made up my mind. Now that we’re having a child, I don’t want to lie to her anymore.”
Luca stared at him, disbelief written across his face. “How do you think she’ll react,” he demanded, “when she finds out her husband is the Emperor of Velmoria? Do you think she’ll just accept it—and forgive you for lying all this time?”
His voice rose. “What if she doesn’t—”
“Then I’ll beg her,” Eyan cut in without hesitation.
Luca fell silent.
“I’ll beg her on my knees if I have to,” Eyan continued, his voice low but unwavering. “And I’ll keep begging until she forgives me.”
He turned to Luca, eyes burning with quiet resolve. “I can’t let her go. Not Eva. Not my child.”
Luca’s lips curved into a gentle smile, trying to lighten the heaviness in the room.
“Then do it,” he said quietly. “Tell her the truth. Don’t worry—I’ll help you through it.”
He leaned back slightly, his voice softening with hope. “After that, you can marry her properly. She can become the Empress, and Father will be so happy when he finds out you finally have a wife. Soon enough, he’ll be a grandfather.”
Eyan’s expression hardened instantly. “No,” he said flatly. “She’s not going to be Empress. And I will not tell Father about the child.”
Luca blinked, surprised. “But you said you’d tell her the truth,” he replied. “Doesn’t that mean you want your child to inherit the throne after you?”
Eyan shook his head, his jaw tightening. “No,” he said. “I don’t want my child anywhere near the throne.”
The words were heavy—final.
“After I tell Eva everything,” Eyan continued, his voice lowering, “I’ll live my life as Kyel. With her.”
He looked away, as if picturing it. “I’ll raise my child as Kyel’s child as a Commenor. Not as Emperor Eyan’s heir. I want things to stay that way.”
Luca leaned back, rubbing his temple slowly as understanding settled in. “You don’t want your child to take the throne,” he said quietly, “because you don’t want them to go through what you did.”
Eyan nodded once. “Yes.”
A long silence followed.
Then Luca spoke again, carefully. “Eyan… if you’re worried because of the Dragon King—Zeradros—don’t be. I’m working on that—”
Eyan’s eyes narrowed slowly. “You are working on that?” he asked.
Then his voice rose, sharp with anger. “Don’t tell me you’re still trying to find a way to end the Dragon King. Didn’t I tell you to stop? Then why—why are you still doing this?”
Luca straightened at once. “Eyan, don’t be angry,” he said quickly. “I can do it. I’m very close now.”
“Stop it,” Eyan snapped. He stood up abruptly, the force of his movement rattling the teacups on the table. “I’ve told you already—Zeradros is not someone anyone can kill.”
His voice lowered, heavy with certainty. “Not even me.”
“I’m not trying to kill him,” Luca said firmly. “In fact, I’ve finally found a way to stop him.”
Eyan turned back sharply. “And what way is that?”
“All you need to do,” Luca continued carefully, “is release the Dragon King. After that, I’ll handle everything.”
Silence slammed into the room.
Eyan’s expression darkened instantly. “You want me,” he said slowly, “to release the Dragon King?”
His voice hardened like steel. “No. I won’t release him. Not at any cost.”
“Eyan,” Luca pressed, stepping forward, “why are you so afraid? It’s not as if releasing the dragon will kill you.”
The words had barely left his mouth—
When Eyan went completely silent.
Luca stared at him. “…Eyan?” he said quietly. “Why aren’t you saying anything?”
His eyes searched Eyan’s face, unease creeping in. “Don’t tell me—”
“No,” Eyan cut in at once. “I’m not going to die.”
His jaw tightened. “But even so, I will not release the Dragon King.”
He stepped closer, his presence suddenly overwhelming. “And you,” Eyan continued coldly, “will stop researching him. I won’t repeat myself again. Do you understand?”
Luca clenched his fists. Slowly, he lowered his head. “…I understand,” he said quietly.
Eyan exhaled, the tension finally leaving his shoulders. “Good,” he murmured. “Then I’ll take my leave. I have matters that cannot wait.”
He turned toward the door, his footsteps measured, controlled.
Luca did not follow. He remained standing in the center of the chamber, head still bowed, listening until the sound of Eyan’s steps faded into silence.
