Arcane Heir: History's Strongest Mage

After the long talk at lunch, Michael felt his mind was muddled. A certain pressure weighed on his chest, making him feel stifled.

While some things had been resolved, like Brian Winterborne's true intentions, many other things had been revealed—muddying the waters.

The real reason for the noble families wanting to acquire Melody through any means necessary, the royal family's intervention, and most of all: the ancient bloodline.

Of course all of these revelations centered around the latter, something that even Brian—the holder of the bloodline—could not explain. It would be one thing if he knew what the bloodline did when awakened, but it seemed that no one did, not even the Bishop family.

It was probably only due to the fact that it held the prefix "Ancient" that everyone coveted it. In fact, no one could be sure that its awakening would be worth fighting over.

Nonetheless, the facts were right in front of him. These vultures would not stop until they acquired Melody, and her ancient bloodline, through any means necessary.

Without enough strength to go against these forces, they were powerless. Even if they were able to get the backing of the royal family, Michael didn't think that it would be enough.

Seeing how the king had been forced to intervene because of the old "right of appeal" law, this much was clear. After all, what was to stop them pulling off the same trick in the future?

With a king so afraid of civil war, the noble houses won't be afraid to throw their weight around… Michael thought grimly.

This made the prospect of starting his own house slightly less appealing. Not only would it require a lot of time and effort to build—he might not even be able to save Melody. Even if he decided to marry her…

Michael found himself walking through the familiar halls towards his old room out of habit. It was only when he rounded the corner that he realized what he was doing.

Ah shit, I left Rudy…

He had been so worked up about the conversation that he had completely forgotten about his friend. The guy was so enamored with the cheesecake and selection of desserts that he had probably not seen Michael leave.

I should go get him.

However, as he turned, he saw a smiling figure in front of him, wearing a warm expression. Without a word, she wrapped her arms around him—squishing him tightly.

At first he was surprised, but then his tense body loosened, the tightness in his chest subsiding somewhat.

"Ya didn't forget about me right?" Shirley asked, letting out a small chuckle.

"Of course not… I was just a little distracted," Michael assured her, feeling some guilt reappear after hearing her voice.

The two stayed like this for a while in comfortable silence. The woman's grip was tight, as if afraid to let him go, but Shirley soon relinquished her hold on him, holding him at arms length.

"You look skinny…" she said, evaluating him, "have you been eating properly?"

A small smirk graced his lips, "I've always been skinny, don't you remember?"

"Not this skinny!" she protested, pinching the side of his stomach, "look at you, not even an ounce of fat on your ribs."

She lifted his shirt, only to let out a gasp, pointing her finger at his stomach. "M-michael!? What happened?"

"What?" he asked, feeling a sense of panic. He lifted his shirt and inspected the area, looking for anything that would be cause for alarm.

However, nothing was out of the ordinary—in fact, his physical training during combat classes had helped shape his body, giving rise to muscles he never thought he would see in his lifetime.

"How did you become so… grown up." She finished, her expression a mixture of shock and sadness. The woman almost looked as if she was about to cry.

He raised his gaze, blinking incredulously.

"They make us do physical training in combat class," he explained. "As for growing up… I can't really help it you know." He added, feeling a little awkward.

Yet his words didn't seem to help the matter at all. In fact, Shirley covered her face with her hands, audibly crying. "I knew I shouldn't have let you go… It's only been four months and you're already a man!" she wailed.

Huh!? Just what is she on about?

It took a little while to console the maid. Even after she calmed down, she would still mutter some things about youth passing by too quickly—which was rather odd considering the woman herself was only in her late twenties.

He spent some time together with Shirley, speaking about his academy life. The woman seemed rather interested in the topics of gossip and constantly asked about his relationship with Melody—something that made him a little uncomfortable.

Of course he didn't mention anything about his experience with the Randolph and Troy Bishop. He could already imagine her reaction and the subsequent tears that would follow.

Perhaps she would hear it from Vaughn or Brian at a later date, but that was for another time. For now, he was happy talking about the more positive topics.

Throughout the conversation, his eyes began to get heavy—fatigue setting in.

He had not had a great sleep the night before, and while it was only around two in the afternoon—the carriage ride and emotional turmoil he experienced thanks to the heavy discussion over lunch had made him sleepy.

Thankfully, Shirley's perception was top-notch, especially when it came to him. With a few more words, she shooed him off to bed, telling him to get a few hours sleep before dinner that night.

Michael didn't argue since he had planned on getting a quick nap in.

He soon found himself in his room in the servant quarters. Everything was as he'd left it—yet there was not a speck of dust anywhere. It was clear that someone had been routinely cleaning the room.

It didn't take much thought to figure out who that might be.

As he laid down on the bed, a wave of comfort overtook him, causing his heavy eyelids to slowly shut. Soon, he welcomed the sweet embrace of sleep.