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

The afternoon sun slanted across the balcony, casting long shadows over the stone railings. A warm breeze tugged faintly at Luca's hair as he leaned one elbow against the balustrade, his gaze fixed on the quiet gardens below. The laughter that had burst out of him moments ago had ebbed, leaving behind only a small, crooked smile and a faint unease as he waited for Selena to speak.

Her voice, cool and deliberate, finally broke the silence.

"What are you going to do about your mother?"

Luca blinked, tilting his head slightly, puzzled. "Hmm? About Mother?"

Selena's amethyst eyes held his with a calm steadiness, though there was a faint hesitation in her tone as she continued.

"From the conversation earlier… I think you're hiding that we're going on an adventure from her. M-maybe because she's too worried about you. Or… because she doesn't want you to go back to the academy."

For a moment, Luca just stared. His eyes widened, his lips parting ever so slightly as her words sank in.

She figured that out? From just this much?

A bead of unease prickled at him. He shifted his weight, straightening from the railing, studying her out of the corner of his eye.

Is she really this observant… or is there something more?

Before he could voice the suspicion tightening in his chest, a muffled commotion drifted up from the hall below. Voices. Movement. Something shifting the calm of the household.

Luca tore his gaze from Selena, exhaling slowly. "Don't worry about it. I'll handle it." He pushed off the railing, his expression settling back into that composed calm. Then, with a glance toward her, he added, "Let's go. Looks like Father is here."

Together, they walked the corridor, their footsteps echoing against the polished wood. Luca kept his pace steady, but his thoughts stirred uneasily beneath the surface.

Descending the stairs, the scene opened before them.

A silver-haired man stood tall in the center of the hall, his frame broad and his posture effortlessly commanding. His chest was still as strong as steel, though softened by the warmth of his smile as his hand rested gently atop Lisa's head, patting her with a father's ease. Selene stood beside him, her elegance unwavering as ever, and Aurelia, Lilliane, and Kyle lingered nearby.

For the briefest moment, Luca's eyes flicked to his mother—and just as quickly, he looked away, not ready to meet her knowing gaze. His voice carried clearly as he stepped forward. "Father."

Strange. That word slipped out so easily, so naturally, even though the truth whispered at the back of his mind. They're not really my parents.

And yet, when Darian turned, his silver eyes softening as a gentle smile curved across his face, Luca felt that truth dissolve. The man's footsteps closed the space between them, and his voice rang with warmth.

"Son!"

The embrace that followed was firm, steady, and without hesitation. Luca's arms lifted almost reflexively, returning it. For a fleeting moment, something heavy in his chest eased.

No… even if it isn't real, even if it never was… right now, he is my father.

When they finally parted, Selena inclined her head in greeting. "Hello, Mr. Valentine."

Darian's gaze softened, the corners of his mouth lifting. "Hello, Ms. Selena."

Selene moved to his side then, nudging him lightly with her elbow—a gesture small, but sharp with intent. Darian cleared his throat, clearly catching the hint, and turned back toward Luca.

"Ahm, Luca. Let's go to the study. I have something to talk with you about."

The words landed heavy. Luca's spine straightened, his instincts tugging him to stall. He offered a quick smile, forcing lightness into his tone. "Why don't you take a rest first, Father?"

Inside, his thoughts were already racing. I haven't thought about how to deal with this yet. I need more time.

But Selene's nudge came again, firmer this time. Darian coughed lightly, covering his awkwardness. "No need to rest. Let's go."

Luca's shoulders sank with a faint sigh. He knew there was no way out of this. Straightening his expression, he simply nodded and followed his father toward the study.

The study smelled faintly of polished wood and old parchment, the afternoon sun streaming in through the tall windows, dust motes drifting lazily in the air. Luca trailed behind Darian, his footsteps echoing softly on the marble floor, and for a moment, he couldn't shake the strange déjà vu. It's almost the same as the mansion's study in the capital… even the desk feels positioned the same way.

His father sat down heavily behind the grand mahogany desk, his broad shoulders sinking into the leather chair. He didn't speak at once. Instead, his silver eyes regarded Luca with a calm intensity, fingers steepled beneath his chin. The silence stretched, thick and pressing, and Luca found himself shifting his weight from one foot to the other, palms faintly damp.

Tch… why isn't he saying anything? His heart drummed against his ribs. Is he angry? Did Mother already tell him everything?

Finally, Darian leaned back, the chair creaking softly. "Luca," he began, his voice steady but edged with gravity, "what are your plans for this holiday?"

The question landed heavier than Luca expected. He blinked, caught between evasion and honesty, but his throat felt tight. His gaze faltered to the carpet, fingers curling slightly at his side. "I…" he hesitated, searching for the right words, before finally forcing himself to say it. "My friends and I… we plan to explore the continent more. To adventure. To find opportunities for us to grow stronger."

The words came out low, edged with guilt. His chest tightened as he bowed his head further, unable to look Darian in the eyes. "I know Mother… she wouldn't want this," he admitted, voice soft.

For a long moment, silence again. Then a heavy sigh escaped Darian. Not angry, not disappointed—just… weary. He rubbed his forehead, then set his hand down flat on the desk. "Your mother did ask me to speak with you. She's worried. Deeply. She doesn't want you heading into danger so soon after returning home."

Luca's gut clenched. Here it comes…

But then Darian leaned forward, resting both elbows on the desk, and his expression softened—lines around his eyes easing. "But I understand, Luca. I understand what you're thinking. You're not wrong. If your path leads you out there, then go."

Luca's head snapped up, eyes wide. His lips parted slightly, breath catching in his throat. "...Father?"

Darian gave a small, knowing smile. "You don't need to shoulder guilt. Do what you feel you must. I'll handle your mother."

The words nearly knocked the wind out of him. He had braced for resistance, maybe even a lecture. But instead—support? Luca's brows furrowed as he searched his father's expression, almost suspicious it was some kind of test. But Darian's eyes were steady, unwavering.

He really means it…

"Go on," Darian said at last, waving his hand toward the door. "Leave it to me."

Luca nodded, still half in disbelief, as he turned for the door. His hand touched the handle when Darian's voice stopped him again.

"Son."

Luca paused, glancing back.

Darian rose from his seat this time, standing tall, his presence filling the room. His gaze was firm but warm, his voice resonating with quiet weight. "Whatever we do and think, wherever we are in the future… remember this. We always want what's best for you."

For a moment, Luca couldn't speak. His throat tightened, eyes stinging faintly before he masked it with a grin. He forced his voice to sound bright, steady, though emotion tugged beneath it.

"I know, Father."

Darian's smile deepened, pride flickering in his eyes.

And for the first time in a while, Luca felt the word "Father" truly belonged to him.

***

That night, in the quiet of his room, a sudden knock came at the door. Luca rose, puzzled, and pulled it open.

His breath caught as he whispered, "…Mother?"