The next couple of days passed quietly. Caius kept mostly to himself, his interactions limited to brief exchanges with the maids and occasional moments of solitude in the vast estate. The days blurred together—mornings spent in contemplation, afternoons filled with quiet walks, and evenings where he retired early, still processing everything that had happened.
On the third day, however, the peace was shattered.
The duke arrived earlier than expected, his carriage rolling to a stop in the grand courtyard. The air grew heavy with tension as the staff rushed to greet him, their postures straightening instinctively under the weight of his presence.
The man was in his mid-forties, yet time had barely touched him. His sharp facial features, his neatly styled red hair and his piercing Crimson eyes made him look as if he had stepped out of a movie .
He was dressed neatly, of in an inky black suit that spoke of quiet wealth and the ever-present air of supremacy that surrounded him like a mantle. His cold, intimidating aura made those around him stand a little straighter, their movements careful and precise, as if afraid to misstep in his presence.
As he stepped out of the carriage, his gaze swept over the mansion, landing briefly on Caius. There was no warmth in his eyes, only the calculating sharpness of a man who always expected results and never tolerated failure.
Caius braced himself. The moment of reckoning had arrived.
The Duke didn't acknowledge Caius immediately, instead turning his attention to his mother and sister, who were just emerging from the carriage. His sister, Elara she possesses a vibrant mane of fiery red hair that cascades down her back in loose waves. she was a younger version of himself, with the same sharp features and steely gaze, though softened slightly by youth.
His mother, Aurelia Beaumont however, possesses a glorious mane of vibrant, natural orange hair. Deep emerald green that contrast strikingly with her hair. she possessed a regal bearing that commanded respect, her face etched with the wisdom and experience of years spent navigating the treacherous waters of high society.
Then a maid welcomed them with a bow
"Welcome back Duke ,Duchess and young lady. I trust your journey was comfortable?"
His mother offered a curt nod. Her eyes flickered towards Caius, a hint of disapproval flickering within them.
Elara, ever the observer, also glanced at Caius, her expression unreadable. She seemed to be taking him in, assessing him with the same critical eye her father possessed. Caius felt a shiver crawl down his spine. He was being weighed and measured, and he suspected the scales were not in his favor.
Finally, the Duke turned his full attention to Caius. His gaze was like a physical weight, pressing down on him, forcing him to meet the man's unwavering stare.
Without speaking a word to him , the Duke turned and strode towards the house, his mother and sister falling into step behind him. Caius hesitated for only a moment before following, his heart pounding in his chest.
As he walked, he noticed Elara lingering slightly behind, her eyes still fixed on him. A flicker of something that might have been pity crossed her face, but it was gone so quickly he couldn't be sure. He didn't have time to ponder it, because they were already inside the mansion, where the Duke had already begun unleashing a torrent of directives to the trembling staff.
The atmosphere inside the mansion was thick with unspoken tension. The Duke's arrival had shifted the air itself, the staff moving in perfect synchrony to ensure that everything was in order. Every step he took echoed through the grand halls, his presence suffocating in its intensity.
Caius followed behind his family at a careful distance, his mind racing with the weight of what he was about to do. He had spent days preparing himself for this conversation, but now, standing in his father's overwhelming shadow, doubt crept in. Could he really convince the Duke to let him avoid the academy?
The family gathered in the main hall, where refreshments had already been set on the polished marble table. The Duchess took her seat with the effortless grace of a woman born into nobility, while Elara sat beside her, back straight and expression composed. The Duke remained standing, issuing a few more clipped orders before turning his attention to his son.
"Caius," his voice was sharp, unwavering. "Did you behave yourself in the past few days."
Caius stiffened. He hadn't expected to be addressed so soon. "yes, Father."
The Duke raised a brow, unimpressed. "Is that so? I would hope that you haven't been wasting time idling about. There is much to be done before you leaving for the academy."
Caius clenched his fists, forcing himself to stay calm. "That's what I wanted to speak to you about. I... I wish to discuss my enrollment."
His father's piercing gray eyes locked onto him, unreadable. "Speak, then."
Caius took a steadying breath. "I would like to request permission to withdraw from attending the academy."
The air seemed to still.
Elara's fork paused midway to her lips, her gaze flicking between Caius and their father. The Duchess gave him a sharp look, as if silently warning him to choose his next words carefully.
The Duke, however, remained motionless. "And why, exactly, do you believe that is an option?"
Caius felt the weight of every pair of eyes in the room settle on him. "The academy isn't the only path to success. I believe I can be more useful managing affairs at home, strengthening my knowledge in ways that suit my strengths."
The Duke's lips curled into something that wasn't quite a smile. "Your strengths? And what, pray tell, do you believe those are?"
Caius knew this was coming. He had anticipated it, but it didn't make it any easier. "Strategy. Diplomacy. Observation. I can be an asset without stepping onto a battlefield."
Silence stretched between them, oppressive and suffocating. Then, the Duke set his glass down with deliberate slowness.
"Caius." His voice was calm, but there was steel beneath it. "You are my son. Do you truly believe that hiding within these walls will make you worthy of that name?"
Caius swallowed, his nails pressing into his palm. "It isn't hiding. It's—"
"Enough."
The single word cut through the air like a blade.
Caius felt an murderous aura on him, his felt his chest tighten, but he forced himself not to look away. The Duke's expression was unreadable, but his disappointment was palpable.
"We will never speak of this again," he said, rising to his feet. " you will do as expected. I will not tolerate excuses."
Without another word, he strode from the hall, leaving a suffocating silence in his wake.
Caius remained seated, his heart hammering against his ribs. His mother exhaled softly, shaking her head before following after the Duke. Only Elara stayed behind, watching him with a gaze he couldn't decipher.
"That was bold of you," she said, her voice quiet. "Foolish, but bold."
Caius exhaled sharply, he felt as if he nearly died .
Elara studied him for a moment before standing.
With that, she left, leaving Caius alone with his thoughts.
He had known this wouldn't be easy. He had prepared himself for rejection. But hearing it, feeling the weight of his father's disapproval—it stung more than he wanted to admit.
For now, all he could do was bide his time.
And figure out what to do next.
The days that followed were marked by a quiet tension. Caius carried on as usual, but the conversation with the Duke lingered at the back of his mind like an unfinished chess match.
He spent more time reading through the notes he had compiled, refreshing his memory on the key events of Heaven's Wrath. There were still gaps in his knowledge, details he had skimmed over in his past life. He couldn't afford to overlook anything now.
But no matter how much he analyzed, one truth remained clear—if the Duke refused to let him avoid the academy, then he needed a backup plan.
Survival came first.
And if he couldn't change his fate, then he needed to learn how to control it.