The Useless Extra Knows It All....But Does He?

The night air drifted in through the open window, cool against my skin. The moon hung high, pale and distant, as though mocking me with its calmness. I leaned my elbow against the windowsill, my chin resting lightly on my hand. The faint breeze tugged at my white hair, strands dancing freely in the wind like they belonged anywhere but here.

Tomorrow… tomorrow I will return to the Magic Tower.

The place people so fondly called my "home."

A bitter smile curled at my lips. Home? Hah… What a joke. That tower was nothing but walls full of cold stares, whispered rumors, and memories I would rather carve out of my mind. If I closed my eyes, I could almost hear the echo of those corridors, could almost feel the weight of eyes judging me for being her daughter.

I sighed softly, the sound lost in the night.

Truth be told—I didn't want to go back.

Not to that place.

Not to her.

My so-called mother.

My fingers tightened on the photograph I held. It was already worn at the edges from how often I carried it around, as if keeping it near me could shield me from the loneliness. My throat tightened as the memories resurfaced—the rare times she spoke to me, the fleeting moments when she pretended to be a mother. When she had talked to me about Luca once, about how I was the first one to know that she had taken Luca as her disciple. . For a fleeting second, I'd let myself hope.

Maybe, I thought back then, if she's willing to take some steps forward with me, I will do it too, forgetting everything that happened.

And then—like always—she broke that hope.

She promised me some time before that she would spend time together with me. She promised. And yet, her endless research, her duties as the great Tower Master, swallowed her whole again. Work was always more important. Work was always the excuse.

I pressed my lips together, forcing back the sting in my chest.

Can't she… can't she at least spare a little time for me? Just once?

My gaze fell back to the photo in my hand. In it, a man with dark hair and kind eyes smiled as if the world itself was gentle. Beside him, the woman—her, with features so much like mine—stood straight and dignified, that familiar sharpness in her eyes even captured on paper and a veil covering her face. And between them… a little girl. Me. With cheeks puffed out, my amethyst eyes wide, my grin so bright all my baby teeth were showing.

I traced the man's face with my fingertip, slowly, carefully, as if the paper might tear under the weight of my longing.

A tear welled in the corner of my eye before I could stop it. It clung to my lashes, then slipped free, leaving a faint trail down my cheek. My lips trembled as I whispered, voice barely audible even to myself:

"Why are you not here, Father…?"

Another tear followed the first.

"…Why not…?"

The wind carried away my words, leaving only the silence of the night to answer me.

Just as my whisper faded into the night, a faint hum broke the silence.

The crystal on my desk pulsed with pale light.

I blinked, wiping at the corner of my eye quickly before crossing the room. My fingers hesitated above the smooth surface before I finally picked it up. The glow sharpened, revealing the sender.

Her.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and read the short message.

No need to return to the Tower. During the holidays, follow Luca. It will be more beneficial to your growth. Hope you are doing fine.

That was it.

No warmth. No inquiry beyond that single shallow line. No… mother.

My lips pressed into a thin line, the crystal trembling faintly in my grip. A laugh—bitter, humorless—slipped out of me.

Hope I'm doing fine?

When had she ever cared about that?

I set the crystal back down, staring at it as the glow faded into nothing. My reflection shimmered briefly on its surface—eyes dulled, mouth tightened.

Disappointment clawed at my chest, but… strangely, there was also relief. I didn't want to go back to that suffocating tower anyway. At least this spared me the sight of those cold halls and her indifferent eyes.

I leaned back against the desk, exhaling slowly, letting the tension drain from my shoulders.

"…Fine then."

If not the Tower, then Luca.

My mind drifted back to that boy—his reckless confidence, his maddening unpredictability… and those words he had thrown at us, as if he could make us grow so much in a short amount of time. Although at that time I thought….

Maybe… just maybe, he had something worth following.

I straightened, clenching my fists lightly at my sides.

"Let's see what you have to offer, Luca," I murmured under my breath, the moonlight catching in my white hair as if sealing the vow.

After all, he promised something back then.

And this time—I would see it through.

She arrived at the academy gates the following evening, only to realize she wasn't the only one with that thought. Lilliane stood there, a touch of nervous energy in her stance, while Kyle leaned against the gate with arms crossed, looking smug as ever. And with Luca senior Aurelia graceful as always, and Luca's sister arrived.

One by one, they mounted the majestic beast, and with a single beat of its wings, the group rose into the sky.

The Kunpeng's wings cut through the clouds, and by the time we landed, dawn had already brushed the Valentine estate in gold. The air was sharp, clean, almost too pristine, as though nothing impure could survive here.

But it wasn't the mansion's spires or the rows of maids that caught my eye.

It was her.

"Welcome home, Son."

Lady Selene's voice carried like silk drawn taut. Not loud. Not stern. But steady. Possessing a weight that commanded without trying.

"Mother…" Luca's voice lowered, softer than I'd ever heard it.

She stepped forward, each click of her heels against the polished stone deliberate, measured. Her gaze swept over him with precision, as though she were a jeweler inspecting a rare diamond. I thought it was just for show—until her hand reached out.

She brushed his shoulder, then tugged at his sleeve, her fingers light but lingering, checking, confirming. Making certain he bore no hidden wounds.

"…I'm fine now, Mother."

His words seemed to release something in her. The tension in her frame melted—shoulders loosening, lips pressing together as though holding back an unspoken worry. She let out a faint, quiet breath, one no servant would have dared notice, and her eyes softened in a way I'd never seen before.

For him.

For her child.

I stood there, expression frozen, my back as straight as the marble pillars. But inside, my thoughts clawed against me.

So this… this is how it looks.

When a mother cares.

Not because of duty. Not for reputation. Not for family name or power.

But simply… because it's her son.

My throat tightened before I could stop it. I forced the feeling down, burying it under layers of cold discipline. I told myself it didn't matter, that I didn't need such things. That warmth is a weakness.

And yet, the sight stayed with me. The way her hand lingered on his sleeve, the way her entire presence bent—just slightly—toward him.

Is this what a mother is supposed to be like?

I clenched my fingers against the fabric of my dress, the crystal-clear answer twisting like a knife.

Yes.

And mine never was.

So I held my silence, letting the moment pass, my mask unbroken. Only the faint chill in my eyes betrayed the storm beneath.

Luca introduced each of us in turn, his voice calm but carrying a subtle pride. Lady Selene acknowledged us with the faintest of smiles, her eyes sweeping over us not with judgment, but with warmth. One by one, she welcomed us inside as though we truly belonged here.

The moment I stepped past the threshold, I froze.

I had thought the estate's exterior was imposing enough, but the inside… it was another world entirely. Chandeliers spilled golden light across marble floors, portraits of ancestors lined the halls, and the air itself seemed scented with refinement, with history. It was beautiful, yes. But more than that—it was alive.

I hadn't realized I'd been staring until her voice interrupted me.

"Guide them to their rooms."

Lady Selene's words were gentle, yet the maids hurried as if her tone left no room for refusal. We followed, but then—

She stopped.

"Not you, Lisa. And you as well, Luca. Stay here for a moment."

The two of them lingered behind as the rest of us were guided down the hall. My steps faltered, my head almost turning back before I forced myself to keep moving.

But the thought gnawed at me.

What could it be? What did she wish to say to him?

N-no, it's not my place. I shouldn't pry. It would be wrong to listen in.

And yet…

The warmth of a mother.

I could never feel it myself. But to at least witness it—just once, even from a distance…

My chest ached with the contradiction, my hands curling into fists at my sides as I walked, torn between discipline and a hunger I couldn't name.