"I hate parties like this. If Evelyn didn't invite me personally, I would've just stayed in my dorm," Lucian muttered, standing at the front steps of the Merrin Family Estate.
The estate was massive—grand archways, polished marble walls, and glowing lanterns hanging in the evening air like stars captured in glass. Music drifted from inside. Laughter. Footsteps. Voices too refined to feel real.
"Quit brooding," Lucy said, swatting the back of his head playfully. "You're ruining the mood for me."
Lucian shot her a look.
"This is the kind of place where people notice you," she said, spinning once to show off her sleek black dress. "Socializing, building connections, maybe even finding a sponsor or two. This is where you should be, genius."
"I don't need connections," Lucian replied flatly. "I'm fine just the way I am."
Lucy rolled her eyes. "That's exactly what someone without connections would say."
Lucian walked ahead without answering, pulling the folded invitation from his coat. He handed it to the gatekeeper—a tall man in formal wear, half his face covered with a silver mask. The man looked at the seal, then at Lucian, then handed it back with a nod.
"Welcome to the Merrin Estate. The party is through the garden hall."
He stepped aside.
Lucian entered first.
Lucy handed hers over with a proud grin, then followed behind her brother, heels clicking on the cobblestone path as they walked through the wrought-iron gate.
The garden was unreal.
Trees trimmed into spiral shapes. Mana-laced petals floating in the air. Lanterns hung between the branches, glowing soft gold. There were clusters of people in elegant robes and modern formalwear, all talking, laughing, sipping shimmering drinks.
Everywhere Lucian looked, he saw eyes watching. Measuring. Whispering.
This is a show. A ceremony dressed as a celebration.
Lucy leaned close. "Don't glare at everyone like you're hunting them. You'll scare the nobles."
"I'm not glaring," Lucian said.
"You're absolutely glaring."
He sighed.
Still, he kept walking, eyes scanning until he saw her.
Evelyn.
She stood near the fountain, surrounded by well-dressed guests, her hair tied up with a jeweled pin and her dress a soft crimson that shimmered as she moved. There was poise in the way she stood—but he saw it. The stiffness in her shoulders. The polite smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.
She caught sight of him.
And for a second, the mask slipped. She smiled—real this time.
Lucian nodded back, subtle.
Lucy nudged him. "You should go talk to her."
"You go."
Lucy raised a brow. "I'm not the one she invited."
Lucian hesitated.
Then he walked toward Evelyn.
The crowd parted slightly as he moved, eyes following him. Not many knew who he was. But some recognized the uniform. The symbol on his chest—the mark of Class Zero.
He stopped a few steps from her.
"You clean up nice," he said.
Evelyn let out a soft laugh. "You showed up."
"You asked."
She tilted her head. "And if I hadn't?"
"I'd be in bed," Lucian said. "Healing. Avoiding noise."
"Well, I'm glad you're here. For what it's worth."
Lucian glanced at the other guests, then back to her. "You don't look like you're having fun."
"That obvious?"
Lucian shrugged. "You're good at smiling. But your eyes are screaming."
She smiled anyway. "I guess I'm still getting used to all this. Being… noticed."
Lucian said nothing for a beat.
Then: "They ignored you before. Now they see value. That doesn't make them right."
Evelyn's smile faded slightly—but her eyes warmed.
"Thanks," she whispered.
Before either of them could say more, a servant approached with a tray.
"Miss Evelyn, Lady Merrin wishes to speak with you in the west garden."
Evelyn nodded. "Tell her I'll be right there."
The servant bowed and walked off.
Lucian stepped back a little.
"Go," he said.
"You'll be okay?"
"I'm not gonna explode."
She smirked. "Well. Try not to."
Then she turned and walked away, red dress trailing behind her like a slow flame.
Lucian stood there for a moment.
Then turned—only to find Lucy already talking with a noble girl near the wine table, laughing like she belonged here.
Lucian walked past her and found a quiet corner under a tree. Out of the light. Away from the noise.
Just where he liked it.
But his eyes stayed on Evelyn.
Few minutes later
Lucian leaned against the tree trunk, arms crossed, eyes half-lidded as the music played on. The air smelled like roses and mana dust. He didn't care for either.
The laughter, the distant sounds of clinking glasses and forced small talk—it all blurred together.
He tilted his head just slightly. Evelyn was still in view—barely—disappearing into the path toward the west garden.
Then he heard them.
He groaned softly before even looking.
"There you are!"
Lucy's voice. Bright. Teasing. Too energetic.
He turned his head just in time to see her skipping up the steps toward him, a trail of silk, lace, and perfume behind her. Three girls followed—one with silver hair and round glasses, another in a low-cut green gown, and the last with sharp makeup and a fan she clearly didn't need.
"This is my brother," Lucy said with a grin that was way too proud. "Lucian. Class Zero. You've probably heard of him."
The girls lit up like someone had spilled glitter on the grass.
"You're the Lucian?" Glasses Girl said, pushing her frames up.
"I heard you beat a Spectral Chimera in one blow," Green Dress added, eyes wide.
"Is it true you got into Class Zero without any backing?" the girl with the fan asked, fanning herself faster.
Lucian didn't move. Didn't blink.
He just stared.
"…I was just trying to stand here," he muttered.
Lucy giggled and gave him a small shove. "C'mon, entertain them for like, five minutes. I'm trying to look good here."
"I'm not a zoo exhibit."
"You're worse," she whispered with a grin. "You're a mystery."
Lucian sighed. Hard.
Still, he nodded slightly toward the girls. "Thanks for the flattery. But I really don't do autographs or fantasy tales."
The girls giggled anyway. One of them actually blushed.
Lucy beamed. "See? You're already winning hearts. Now—"
But she stopped.
They all did.
Because then—
From the other side of the garden, just past the arched hedges where the lantern light dimmed—
A voice. Sharp.
Panicked.
"Let go of me!"
Everyone near the hedge froze.
Lucian's body moved before his mind caught up.
The noise—the clink of glasses, the laughter, the low strings of the quartet—all fell away.
Evelyn.
Her voice.
Shouting.
Lucian's hand dropped to the side of his coat where his dagger usually sat. It wasn't there. He cursed under his breath.
The girls stepped back. Lucy looked up at him, confused.
"Lucian?"
But he was already gone.
Feet silent on stone. Eyes burning through the dark.
Cutting across the garden like a shadow unchained.
And the night—
suddenly stopped feeling safe.