the beginning after the end perfect duo

Negotiations

Just what does this brat think he's doing, inviting me over to his house like this?

Ever since I arrived yesterday, I couldn't shake the question from my mind: Does he trust me? How could he be so naive as to believe I wouldn't hurt his family—or worse? And why is he so insistent on dragging me along with him? What makes this peasant think he's worth all this trouble for me?

Why would someone like him work so hard to bring me along on a mission? It's not like I need him or anything. My father always selects the finest adventurers to accompany me—seasoned fighters who know their place and understand the stakes. Yet here we are, and they've even brought that girl along. She's useless, completely out of her depth—a liability if I've ever seen one. But instead of seeing her for what she is, they act like she's some kind of asset. They're happy she's there, laughing and smiling as though having her around actually benefits them.

No matter how much I try to make sense of it, everything about these people feels wrong. This isn't how things are supposed to work—not according to what my father taught me. Strength is everything; weakness has no value. Yet... despite myself, I can't deny the curiosity gnawing at me. What would happen if I went with them? Where would it lead? I won't lie—I want to see where this absurd little experiment of theirs ends up.

The bed creaked beneath me as I shifted uncomfortably. Compared to the plush mattress back home, this thing was practically made of rocks. Not that it mattered—I'd be heading home today anyway.

I got up from the bed, irritation prickling under my skin like a rash. The mattress groaned in protest as I swung my legs over the side and stood. Pushing the door open, I poked my head out cautiously, scanning the hallway. That's when I spotted her—Tom's mother. Her name was Alley or something equally forgettable. Honestly, I hadn't paid much attention when they introduced her.

"Ah, there you are, Lucas," she said cheerfully, turning toward me with that annoyingly warm smile of hers. "Those two are already outside—I don't see them right now, but I think I know what they're up to. Anyway, breakfast is almost ready. Go wash your face and get to the table. Oh, and would you mind waking Lilia? She's a heavy sleeper, and trust me, she kicks if you startle her, so be careful."

Be careful? Be careful?! Who did this woman think she was, ordering me around like some lowly servant? She was the peasant here, not me. How dare she speak to me as though I owed her anything? And how had these people ended up living in the Helsteas manor anyway? It made no sense. Yet, despite my simmering anger, I found myself moving toward Lilia's room without argument.

I knocked on her door—one knock, then another, and another. Seconds stretched into minutes, but there was no response. My patience evaporated faster than water on hot coals. A flicker of fire sparked in my palm, crackling dangerously as frustration boiled over. Enough of this nonsense. With a swift kick, I sent the door flying open, only to find... an empty bedroom.

Furious didn't even begin to cover it. I was livid—raging like a storm trapped inside a bottle. If I ever found that girl again, I'd burn her alive. This wasn't coincidence; it was deliberate. She knew the room was empty. Sending me there was nothing short of mockery—a calculated jab meant to humiliate me. Did she think I wouldn't notice? Did she think I wouldn't care? Oh, she'd learn soon enough just who she was dealing with.

Storming through the house, I threw open doors until I finally reached the dining hall. There she was again, standing by the table with that infuriatingly serene expression plastered across her face. Plates were set neatly, steam rising lazily from dishes piled high with food. As if sensing my presence, she turned to face me, her smile widening as though she hadn't just orchestrated this little charade.