Most of the students at the Royal Academy live in the dormitories, but since the Regis Family owns a grand mansion in the Yose District near the Academy, El processed the paperwork to become a day student.
There were few pedestrians on the road. The previous Regis Count had specially chosen a quiet and excellent location in the bustling city center.
El had to admit, old noble families at least truly understood how to enjoy life.
At night, the silent Count’s Mansion was still illuminated by warm lights.
The fountain in the garden let out a “splash, splash” sound of water, and the mansion’s delicate outline was still clearly visible under the night sky.
El felt that all the fear and anxiety he had suffered through that day were healed here. Perhaps this is the meaning of home—no matter when, there is always someone waiting for him here.
He pushed open the main door.
The maid, who had been sitting early in a chair waiting, hurriedly stood up to greet him: “Welcome home, young master. Dinner is ready. If you’d like to bathe first…do you need me to assist you in changing clothes?”
The maid had a head of pure, pale golden long hair, obediently tied back into a ponytail. Her face was breathtakingly beautiful, and of course, the most striking feature was that pair of exquisite pointed ears.
Her maid outfit was very conservative, the long skirt covering her calves in black stockings, not revealing any fair skin.
Yet the generous curve of her chest always made people worry the buttons might pop off at any moment.
Ivena, rather than being El’s maid, was more like family to him, even akin to an elder sister. As you can see, she was an elf.
The reason such a proud elf would lower herself to work as a maid was that, when she was still weak and in trouble, Ivena was rescued and taken in by El. Yes, it was exactly that kind of old-fashioned story.
“I told you not to call me young master, call me sir. Forget it, let’s eat first, let me see…hmm?”
El sat down at the table full of anticipation and looked at tonight’s food.
A generous portion of Mist Cow Loin, a northern specialty, was served on the plate, glazed with a layer of sweet honey, looking tender and delicious.
The side dish, mushrooms with smooth, glistening cross-sections, was also a rare species. There were vegetables, too…
El narrowed his eyes and voiced his question, “Ivena, I clearly remember that at lunch I said the main dish for dinner had to be Cream Cake, and the drink should be Blueberry Fruit Tea, didn’t I?”
El had a bad habit: he loved sweets, especially sweets at a level most people would find throat-achingly deadly.
“You didn’t mention at lunch that you’d be going out to have a romantic evening with a pretty girl in the grove, did you, young master?”
Ah, not good. El didn’t get to eat his sweets; instead, he was almost choked by Ivena’s slightly sour and aggrieved tone.
Ivena had always protected El in secret, but she wasn’t monitoring him. She didn’t pay special attention to what happened in the forest, just quietly stayed by his side.
“Besides, you may have forgotten, but I never agreed to it at the time, did I? When it comes to your health, I won’t give in.”
El was left speechless by the reprimand and silently lowered his head, slicing the steak. Well, Ivena’s cooking was superb—one couldn’t help but want to swallow their own tongue.
“Ivena, you’re so strange. Mother always wants me to spend more time with girls and revitalize the Regis Family in the future, so why do you always look so unhappy about it?”
After dinner, El elegantly wiped his mouth with a napkin and spoke.
“The Madam does think that way, but I hope you’ll also spare a thought for the Regis Family’s reputation, young master.”
Ivena puffed out her cheeks, looking especially adorable.
“You should consider my feelings too. If the young master I care about most suddenly turns into a big bad wolf, I’d be really upset. I’d definitely think I’d failed at my job—or something like that.”
Of course, Ivena’s heart was also plagued by a strange sense of possessiveness.
“I was just joking. Don’t you trust my character? Of course I had proper business to attend to.”
“So, what was it?”
El had no intention of telling Ivena about it—not because he didn’t trust her, but for his own reasons.
Ivena was strong. Extremely strong. As the current Sword Saint once said, in the entire capital, there might not be anyone who could defeat Ivena in a fair fight.
Just as coins are divided into copper, silver, and gold based on value, professionals were also divided by strength into Bronze, Silver, and Gold Ranks.
Above these three ranks was the Master Rank, known as “Controllers.”
And even among Masters, there were differences—compared with other Masters, Ivena was outstanding.
But El knew Ivena very well. Although her strength was undeniable, she was actually very fragile inside.
The hardships of her past made her cherish this hard-won happiness, and if she learned that El might die, she would undoubtedly go mad.
At that point, whatever she did, El wouldn’t find it surprising. So he believed this was a gradual process—he would use his own way to help Ivena accept it.
“Sorry, I…”
El was just about to say something, but his words were stopped by Ivena’s pale, delicate finger pressed to his lips.
“Shhh—if you don’t want to say, then don’t. I’m sure you have your reasons.”
Suddenly, El felt the world spin. When he came back to his senses, the back of his head was resting on Ivena’s soft thighs, the faint fragrance from the maid’s body irresistibly drifting into his nose.
“I don’t want to see you looking uneasy. Ivena will always support you, no matter what happens.”
Ivena’s voice was gentle and sweet, that irresistible tenderness washing away the gloom in El’s heart.
“Thank you. I feel much better. Please believe me, Ivena. I’ll handle this. That’s my promise to you.”
El suddenly realized he had never truly been alone. If he was always haunted by the shadow of death, those around him would be affected as well, leading to an even worse outcome.
So he had to stand tall and not let those who loved him worry. He would summon the spirit of the Regis family head and face that fatal end with composure.
When El was five, his father died unexpectedly. At only five years old, El inherited his father’s title, becoming the youngest heir in Regis family history.
The mage nobles of the Empire’s Eastern Territory were more humane than the merchants of the West, but there were still countless wolves circling, eager to bite a chunk from the weakened Regis Family.
El’s mother, Karina Regis, raised him alone in this environment.
She was always on guard against ambiguous relatives, navigated among greedy villains, and turned from a beautiful noble lady into a shrewd politician.
“Whenever I feel tired, I think of my little El and the day he inherits the Count’s domain in glory. Especially, when I imagine him boasting to the other nobles—‘It’s all thanks to my mother’s wise management’—I feel so happy I could burst.”
When El grew older and asked his mother what she’d thought back then, he got this answer.
“My wish…I hope El will have lots of children in the future and revitalize the Regis Family! But, as long as my son can live happily, that’s already enough.”
El had to win. His pride would not allow his life to be defined by some ridiculous script, even more so because he couldn’t let the ones who loved him get hurt.
“I’ve always believed you could do anything, young master…eh?”
Only now did El notice the faint blush blooming on the maid’s cheeks for some reason. As if touched in a sensitive spot, she let out a surprised yelp, her generous bosom heaving enticingly with the motion.
That’s strange…By rights, Ivena shouldn’t be this sensitive. But El didn’t dwell on it, just teased her: “So silly, Ivena. If you’re so sensitive, why are you still doing this?”
Ivena’s face turned bright red, her pointed ears tinged with pink, unable to get a word out. El used the opportunity to get up and leave the maid’s embrace.
“Well then, I’ll go wash up first. See you tomorrow, Ivena.”
***
The crystal chandelier reflected the glow of jewels worn by the nobles, beautiful music drowning out the rustling of skirts, and the white roses nearby released their fragrance.
Aurelia sat on a velvet sofa away from the central dance floor, her brilliant golden hair always making her the focus of attention. Every gesture she made exuded extreme elegance.
Nobles were all attractive—such was the way of bloodlines. But even though all the young noble ladies present were beautiful, Aurelia still outshone them all.
Beauty of features has its limits—after a certain threshold, it all comes down to personal taste.
But personal charm has no bounds, and Aurelia’s beauty radiated from within, leaving everyone else feeling inadequate.
She was cold and proud, noble as a white lotus on a snowy mountain.
“I’m going out for some air.”
Aurelia left these words and walked out to the terrace.
Karen caught the look she gave him before leaving and could only follow with a wry smile. He’d already guessed what was coming next.
Sure enough, her first question was: “Why didn’t El come?”
“That guy El, he’s busy with something important and couldn’t get away.”
“Something important?”
“Yeah, he’s been looking troubled all day—he even skipped the Sage’s class. And you know, that’s El we’re talking about.”
Karen tried to use El’s misfortune as an excuse, though he was telling the truth.
As he expected, Aurelia’s attention shifted immediately: “Is he in some kind of trouble?…He won’t say?”
“Yeah.”
A moment of silence.
“Don’t take it too much to heart. He’s not blaming you, just…maybe it’s best to give him some more time.”
Karen understood El well and was happy to act as a bridge between the two.
Aurelia was the only child of the Western Duke, destined to inherit the Godefiel Family in the future—a perfect match for El.
The union of their families would not only promote friendship between the Western and Eastern Territories, but wouldn’t arouse the Emperor’s suspicion either.
Of course, Karen wasn’t just a cold-blooded schemer focused on benefits—he truly wished for his good friend’s happiness.
On this, he could only say: if anyone had witnessed the interaction between the two three months ago, even the most jaded rogue would have believed in love again.
The night breeze brushed through Aurelia’s long hair as she stood on the terrace, gazing into the distance. The bustling lights of the capital were reflected in her glassy eyes.
“I thought I’d already grown to like these balls, even though they’re so sickeningly fake. Heh, did you see that girl from the Korat Family? Her eyes are practically burning with envy, but she’s still smiling. Ridiculous…”
She suddenly spoke, letting out a soft laugh tinged with self-mockery and loneliness. Clearly she was talking to Karen, but it was as if she were complaining to some third, absent person.
“Turns out, I never really liked balls. I just liked the time I spent with him.”