Luca hummed through the halls of HQ. He was finally back at work, and he was delighted that he'd finally be able to make real progress on his case. He strolled across the halls, saw Zayn's office, paused, and walked past it anyway. He was going to work in his own office, for he didn't intend to let his previous actions with a certain someone repeat themselves.
He was feeling more energized than an active toddler, meaning he would work his brain until it shut down like an old machine, and then he would sleep and do it all over again.
He hummed louder, feeling very joyous. He waved to workers he had never greeted before and even watered some plants that decorated the halls of HQ. Luca had also slicked back his hair the best he ever had and took time to replace the ink in his favourite old pen.
His office chair didn't even creak when he sat on it. Luca cracked his knuckles and stretched his arms because he didn't plan to leave that seat for a long while. He thought of taking a break for lunch, but that was something for the future he would have to deal with.
Luca skimmed through his early notes about the case, the ones he had taken before the crime scene had been cleaned, because he always made sure to freshen up his memory. He had observed the bluish skin of the elf, the branding, the fish-like smell no one else seemed to notice, and the artifact necklace. When he looked back at the printed photograph of the brand for the millionth time, he realized that the sigil markings on the elf's neck hadn't just been any pattern; in fact, they felt familiar. It seemed that the markings hadn't stopped at the neck, not unlike the marks on his own body. He hadn't noticed the resemblance before, most likely because he wasn't in his best health. Luca leaned back in his chair, taking in the look of the office he hadn't been in for weeks. There was something else in the photograph that bothered him. Beneath the fish-like scent he remembered from the scene, there had been another smell—faint and stale. Like air trapped inside sealed stone for too long. Luca frowned at the memory before shaking it off. The body had been found outside, so that kind of scent made no sense. Sighing, Luca leaned back in his office chair, taking in the view that he hadn't been seeing for weeks.
His office was medium-sized and tidy and cozy, just how he liked his spaces, and yet, he couldn't help but think that the quiet in TSL was different than the one at the estate; this one was quiet with a hum of liveliness, whereas the other one made him flustered, and embarrassed, and—
Luca shook his head vigorously. He couldn't help but think that there was no way that elf was a regular. Although he couldn't be sure, the photograph almost seemed to shift every time he looked at it, and for some odd reason, he would always find himself drawn back to it every time he decided to work, as if it were trying to relay a message.
He palmed his face, frustrated that this case was so annoying but also delighted.
Luca wore a mask. He'd been getting overly irritated by smells more often than usual. His bizarre sense of smell had been manageable for most of his life until the fishy smell at the crime scene, and then every little smell began to irritate him. Now, it was seriously inclining away from "manageable"; hence, the mask. He felt like a sick patient with it on, which was a clever excuse he could use on nosy co-workers.
Luca had deciphered the letter inside the file that had been written in a foreign language. The message was… rather unsettling. He had retranslated it multiple times to ensure that he hadn't made any errors, and every time, the possibility for error reduced.
The letter said,
"To her majesty,
A woman with ashen skin and eyes as purple as amethyst has forced this poisonous necklace onto my neck—something I cannot get off with garden pliers—forever. My queen, I am writing this letter to you, as I believe this has gotten out of hand. I do not have much time left, for I am writing this letter as her sea-blue, venomous ink consumes my skin whole and stains my insides. I am sickly, and I am already aware that I will never recover from this, for my demise is nearer than the prince's coronation, which is in weeks, and I sincerely apologize in advance for having to miss it. Although I have taken it upon myself to transport this letter to you myself, I am not so sure that I will make it, for I am being tracked and followed by her accomplice. Say, if this letter never reaches your eyes from me, I am certain the trees will find a capable messenger who may speak our language."
—Raelias Ravinestone, Guardian of the Sacred Elven Vault.
Luca stared at his translation for what felt like hours in disbelief and confusion. Who was she? And had he just discovered the identity of the assassinated elf? He had to tell someone of his discovery, but at the same time, was it safe to let this be known to the public eye? All that information he had received from that letter appeared to be credible, but the chances of it being written by the assassin themselves in order to deceive him were high.
Luca took out his tablet and went on the web. The ring sigil on his finger caught his eye, making his cheeks flush before he shook it off. He took a deep breath and opened the search engine and typed in "Raelias Ravinestone," and there were more links than he'd been expecting to see. He looked through the older pages first and found that many articles stated that Raelias had been a guardian of elven artifacts who was extremely trusted within the elven palace grounds. He was known for protecting relics connected to ancient magic and was rarely seen outside their artifact vaults. Raelias being well-known benefited Luca's research, but he wasn't satisfied yet.
Luca looked into the more recent posts, daily gossip, and articles concerning Raelias. He furrowed his brows; there were numerous articles regarding Raelia's recent disappearance, which dated back roughly three weeks. Official reports said "missing during a research patrol."
His body was never recovered, and gossip papers
Said there had been rumours of Raelias escaping after finding a lost artifact he'd been researching to use for sinister activities lingered quietly around the palace, though discussions about it had quickly ceased as it was extremely unlikely for someone as reputable as Raelias Ravinestone.
Luca suddenly dropped his pen, a crazy realization hitting him. At the crime scene, the unidentified victim was Raelias. He had found the body.
"Oh dear," Luca muttered. This case was bigger than he had thought it to be. Due to Raelias's body being so far away from the elven kingdom, his team hadn't known his identity, and it was very likely that the elves were still unaware of Raelias's passing. But shouldn't he have died on elven territory? He had stated that he'd been transporting the letter himself to the queen. Then who transported his body? Why did they dump it where it could be found by The Sovereign Ledger, and did they intend for his death to be kept unknown by the elves? Or did Raelias know something others didn't and travelled somewhere far to uncover a secret, like the necklace he had been stuck with and the mysterious woman he had accused of poisoning him?
Luca paused. The necklace—he had taken it in for evidence, showed it to Zayn, and it had been placed in the sovereign vault. That necklace was an artifact, one that was confirmed to have been stolen from the elves centuries ago. It hadn't behaved like a regular artifact; in fact, it seemed to have been draining things around it, glowing in a sickly way and having an irregular hum to it. It also smelled suspiciously like the ocean, almost like the lingering smell that had pestered him at the scene. Artifacts weren't supposed to smell like the ocean. One obscure report mentioned Raelias had recently claimed to possess "credible confirmation" regarding an important stolen artifact's location, though the source was never revealed, and if Raelias had found the artifact and intended to return it, it was likely that it had been the necklace and that he had been struck during the process. His job was to protect artifacts, and instead, he died wearing one. Luca felt a warm tear slide down his cheek. He was emotional, and he thought that was a tragic way to die. He knew he'd also The elves were probably still searching for someone who had already been buried—because they couldn't figure out his identity—and that was sad. Luca would cry if that were to happen to him. He hadn't realized the severity of the situation or how complex this case could be until now, because he'd been too busy being weak.
To confirm that the victim was in fact Raelias Ravinestone, Luca double-checked patrol logs, weather records, and some cameras in which Raelias was spotted. He was a tall, slender elf with bright blonde hair, which made him easy to spot. And lastly, in the footage where Luca had gotten a glimpse of silver hair, it was evident that Raelias was the one getting stabbed and stunned. "Raelias might've tried to yell for help, but he was stabbed right where his vocal cords lay. The necklace—if what he wrote was true—was the poison, and the blade was to silence him, Luca thought.
This was the first time in ages that Luca had filled such a numerous amount of pages with notes, and luckily, Zayn—having noticed his attachment to his notebook—had done expansion magic on it to prevent him from filling it up completely. Even if it may have been a small gesture in other people's eyes, to Luca, it was the best thing anyone could do for him, and he was genuinely grateful. As for the pen, he still needed to replace the ink every now and then, but that didn't mean he'd ever let go of it.
Luca spun his chair around, grabbing a tissue to wipe his tears. He felt ridiculous, and he scolded himself internally for getting emotional over a case, because that never meant anything good. A good investigator never lets their emotions get the best of them while at work—but that didn't necessarily mean Luca was a bad one. And the fact that the elf wrote, at the end of the letter, that the trees would've found a capable messenger to show the letter lingered in his mind. Did the trees really deem him competent enough? Or had they made a mistake? But then again, elves didn't trust paper couriers; they trusted forests, and forests rarely ever made mistakes, as they have been around for millennia and are wise.
"Ah, I've gone and done it again," Luca sniffled, "crying easily at my big age."
Luca rubbed his temples, staring off into the distance. A stolen artifact, an artifact guardian, and a sigil that resembled the one eating through his own skin unsettled him, and the puzzle pieces were starting to align in ways he didn't like.
Knock, knock, knock
Three very familiar, quiet knocks on his door. He froze, and his tears practically evaporated within seconds. Luca didn't look up from his notebook that had been stained with his tears immediately. He finished scribbling the end of his note, underlined Raelias Ravinestone's name twice, and only then did he speak; it was too soon, and he was mentally preparing himself for whatever might hit him.
"Come in," he yelled out.
The door opened quietly, with not so much as a creak.
Luca knew who it was before he even looked. There was something unmistakable about the way Zayn entered a room—controlled, silent, deliberate. It was as if the air itself bowed and moved aside to let him pass.
Luca kept his eyes on his notes for a moment longer than necessary before finally glancing up. "Director."
Zayn stood in the doorway, taking up the space with his height. He was dressed in his usual dark attire, the silver accents of his suit catching the faint light from the window behind Luca. His expression was neutral. Too neutral.
"Sterling," he replied. The door closed behind him with one swift motion.
Luca forced himself not to notice how easily Zayn filled the room, to not notice the familiar warmth of his mana brushing faintly against his senses. He definitely didn't think about the night before, or the embrace, or the warmth of Zayn's chest, or even waking up in his bed. Luca cleared his throat, looking around awkwardly. "What brings you here, director?"
Zayn studied him for a brief second, taking in his appearance. Luca watched his eyes trail up his body, suddenly feeling self-conscious. Zayn stepped closer to the desk, placing one hand lightly against its edge as he leaned over the scattered documents. The movement brought him just a little too close, not enough to touch, but enough that Luca could feel the warmth radiating from him. Luca's pen hesitated, and for a split second, he caught the faint scent of smoke and silver—something warm and familiar that reminded him of the night before.
He cleared his throat and looked back down at his notes. Zayn didn't move away immediately. His gaze flickered briefly to Luca's hair, as if noticing the way it had been slicked back.
Then, Zayn spoke calmly and slowly. "You chose to relocate your operations." It wasn't a question.
Luca adjusted the stack of documents in front of him. "I work better in my own office," he answered, his voice quivering despite his efforts to sound composed.
Zayn hummed softly, unconvinced but not pressing the matter. For a brief moment, neither of them spoke.
"You changed your hair."
Luca blinked, startled by the comment.
"Oh. Yes. I thought it might be… more professional."
Zayn hummed quietly. "Professional" wasn't the word that came to his mind, but he didn't say that. Instead, he straightened up and shifted the conversation back to the case. He reached forward and slid the photograph of Raelias closer to himself. His silver eyes sharpened. "You've made progress."
Luca nodded, a smile hinting at his lips from the acknowledgment. "I translated the letter I found back at the scene."
"And?"
"It was written by the victim."
Zayn leaned against the edge of the desk, arms crossing loosely. Luca felt the shift in the room immediately. Zayn always became very still when something interested him… and he was too close.
"The victim's name was Raelias Ravinestone," Luca continued. "He was an artifact guardian from the Elven palace."
Zayn didn't look surprised. Of course he didn't. He always knew more than he let on. Luca pushed the translated letter across the desk. Zayn picked it up and read it silently. His expression remained calm, but Luca noticed the subtle tightening at the corners of his eyes.
"She forced a necklace onto him," Luca said quietly. "He couldn't remove it."
Zayn finished reading and placed the page down. "That aligns with my findings," he said.
Luca blinked. "Your findings?"
Zayn's gaze moved to Luca's chest—the exact place where the sigil rested beneath his skin. "The sigil affecting you," Zayn said steadily, "is one of a Lunar Lily."
Luca leaned forward slightly. "I suspected it was a flower sigil," he said. "But Lunar Lily… I've never heard of it."
"Few have." Zayn's tone carried the faint edge of something careful. "It isn't a natural sigil. It requires external mana to function."
"External mana?"
Zayn tapped the desk lightly. "The sigil itself is merely a structure. The power feeding it comes from somewhere else."
Luca immediately began writing with his pen squeaking lightly against the pages in the silence. "So the source of the mana is the real problem."
"Correct."
"And the blue skin?"
Zayn's gaze flickered briefly towards Luca's hands. "The sigil is forcing mana through a human body that wasn't designed to contain that quantity," he explained. "The discolouration is a side effect of the enhancement process."
Luca stared at his arms beneath his sleeves, his face scrunching up at the sight. "So I'm essentially being… overcharged."
"A crude way of putting it," Zayn said. "But accurate."
Silence settled again, and Luca felt Zayn's presence more strongly now that he was standing so close. It was warm and steady and dangerously distracting. He cleared his throat and gestured to the photo again. "There's another thing." Zayn raised an eyebrow. "The markings on Raelias's neck," Luca said. "They resemble the sigil patterns that I have."
Zayn went still again, only for a second. "That isn't a coincidence."
Luca looked up, and Zayn met his gaze for a second too long. Luca cleared his throat. "Meaning?"
"It means Raelias was afflicted with the same type of sigil."
Luca's eyes widened, a cold realization settling in his chest. This was why the patterns had felt familiar to him and why he kept looking at the photograph. "And he died from it," Luca added.
"Yes."
Luca leaned back slowly in his chair.
"Well," he muttered quietly, "that's great for me."
For the first time since entering the room, Zayn almost smiled. "Sterling," he said softly.
"Yes?" Luca answered tentatively.
"You're not dying."
"Mm," Luca hummed, unconvinced. Zayn straightened ever so slightly and said, "The counter sigil I placed in you is suppressing the Lunar Lily's growth. As long as my mana continues to dominate the structure, the damage will remain limited."
Luca stared at him for a moment. Something about the way Zayn said "my mana continues to dominate" lingered in his mind. Luca quickly looked back at his notes before his brain could start wandering in places it absolutely shouldn't go.
"Well," he said, tapping his pen against the desk, "good to know your mana is winning the fight inside my body." The words left his mouth before he could stop them.
Silence. Heavy silence. When Luca looked up again, Zayn was staring at him, just watching him with that unreadable silver gaze. Luca returned to his notes, gripping his pen a little tighter than before. "Right. So, we have the murdered elf—the artifact replica—an external mana source—"
"Luca."
The sound of his name stopped his pen mid-stroke. He looked up slowly. "...Yes?"
Zayn was still standing near the desk, but his attention wasn't on the papers anymore. It was on Luca.
"You should take breaks while working."
Luca blinked behind the mask. That had come out of nowhere.
"You push yourself too hard when you are close to a discovery," Zayn said calmly.
The way he said it made Luca wonder if he was talking about the case at all. Luca forced a small, polite smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "That's how discoveries happen, director."
The word "director" hung in the air like a deliberate wall. Zayn noticed. His gaze lingered for a moment longer than necessary, drifting briefly to Luca's masked face, then lower—toward the place beneath Luca's shirt where the sigil rested. Luca resisted the urge to shift in his chair.
After a second, Zayn stepped back from the desk. "I will send you the records I have regarding Lunar Lily sigils."
Luca nodded, already pretending to reread the same notes for the third time. "Thank you."
Zayn turned towards the door. Then stopped. The pause stretched long enough that Luca could feel it pressing against the back of his neck. For a moment, it looked like Zayn might say something else. Something personal.
Instead, he only said, "don't remove the mask unless necessary. "Your senses are still unstable." His voice was quieter this time. Almost careful. And then he left with the door clicking shut behind him without him needing to touch it. Luca stared at the door for a long moment. Only when he was certain Zayn was gone did he slump forward, lowering his head into his hands.
"...I really need to stop saying weird stuff around that man." After a pause, he muttered into his palm, "And stop thinking about last night."
CHAPTER TWELVE: A DANGEROUS GAME OF OBSERVATION.ZAYN VYSERION
Zayn's gaze lingered on the office doors long after he'd left Luca's side. The boy's scent was sharp, slightly metallic, and undercut with the faint trace of something floral. Zayn had coated him with his mana before he left, as he preferred not to have Luca attract nosy beings, and who could blame him for making him smell like him? Sterling was his. As long as Sterling stayed unaware, there would be no problem.
Luca's mask did help keep his senses under control, but it didn't hide the sigil's heartbeat beneath his skin. Each pulse was a silent thrum, an echo of the power he alone was containing—also something the coat of mana hid. The counter-sigil served as a protective barrier both inside and outside of Sterling's body, but it also linked them to each other—another thing Zayn hadn't intended on telling Sterling.
Zayn grabbed his keys from his office and locked the door behind him. He walked through the halls of The Sovereign Ledger's Headquarters calmly with his back straight, composed and controlled. All kinds of employees either bowed slightly or waved at him when they spotted him, and some even shivered. Zayn didn't smile, didn't return their gestures, or even acknowledge them, as they were nowhere near his top priority at the moment.
He tapped his keycard at an unauthorized door and strode into the observation alcove, a space darker than most, gracefully. His hair billowed behind him when the heavy doors slid shut. Rows of screens flickered silently, showing energy readings, security cameras, and subtle magical traces around HQ. He didn't need the cameras to see Luca; he only needed the sigil's pulse on the mana network. The mana web spread before him like constellations in a night sky. Here, the sigil's pulse beneath Luca's skin showed in delicate, almost imperceptible pale blue threads spiralling outward in direction, rhythm, and intention. His eyes traced the way each thread wasn't dormant and wasn't fading. It was being monitored. Someone else was actively broadcasting into it. Zayn adjusted the suppression level with a slight push of his mana. His counter-sigil didn't just block; it owned the structure. But he knew it couldn't remain static forever. The external force was tuning in and waiting for a reaction. And he would react.
Zayn hummed a faint tune, closed his eyes, and basked in the faint hum of mana surrounding him. In the silence, he let his mind wander—not far, but just enough to feel the thrill of control. He allowed himself a thought he would never voice aloud:
"He is fragile, yet I find myself watching him as though the slightest fracture would be my responsibility."
Quiet settled around him. The usual hum of the observation room felt heavier today, as if the air itself were acknowledging danger. Zayn leaned against the console, studying the faint flicker of blue in the network. The boy was active, curious, and reckless. He would move, and when he did, the network would respond. Whoever was feeding the sigil would respond too. Zayn's eyes dimmed, turning reptilian for half a second before he could recompose himself. Patience was a dangerous luxury, and he was afraid his may not last for much longer.
He was a possessive being—all dragons were. But he hadn't felt possessive for millennia. That is, until this human strolled into his boring life recklessly and became a persistent topic in his mind. His body had welcomed him; it had let him feel his warmth instead of the coldness it would greet anyone else with. His hair had welcomed him, letting the boy admire its gracefulness from up close instead of burning his eyes like anyone else. That was because the boy wasn't anyone else—he was Luca, a boy who still manages to smile despite his pain and tries his hardest to appear strong when, in reality, he is breaking down.
Zayn hadn't forgotten about the slum scum. He already knew that the scum was the root cause of Luca's suffering. And he should have dismantled his head from his body when he had the chance. But there would have been no fun in that. The fun would be when he watched Luca interrogate that criminal. The artifact being a replica hadn't surprised him; he had already sensed it. What he hadn't sensed was that it was etched with a venomous sigil that was most likely forged by the scum themselves. He knew the exact moment it had begun its action in Luca—back on the day he had forced Luca on a break. It was necessary. He couldn't babysit the boy at work; as much as he'd like to, it was better that he took a break before he could break down in the middle of HQ and cause a scene and a string of rumours. Plus, it was easier for Zayn to find him alone… and care for him. Not because that was what he hoped for, but because he knew Luca would refuse to care for himself. He was truly a stubborn individual.
A subtle vibration on his wrist pulled him from the threads of mana. A message flashed across the screen of his watch, with a familiar name. Silas Vyserion.
Zayn groaned, his mood dropping significantly. Silas was never any good. The message was brief, formal, and deceptively calm.
"Ensure your compliance and allegiance remain intact. There will be scrutiny this week. —Silas, your lovely father."
Zayn read the message twice. Compliance. Allegiance. Scrutiny.
The phrasing wasn't a threat, nor was it a directive. It was merely a reminder of the crown he was heir to—an anchor of politics that never slept. A reminder that the world outside Zayn's little obsession was still turning, and that turning had consequences. He didn't respond. He shut his watch off and returned to the threads of mana. There was nothing to respond to yet, and control came first. Observation came first. The boy came last, and yet… he came first in ways Zayn refused to name even to himself, and then everything else became background noise.
The message sat in his system like a distant echo, something he would revisit in days to come, when the political tide met the personal one.
But for now, it was just another caution to weave into his calculations.
***
From the high vantage point near the library windows, Zayn watched Luca pace back and forth in his office. Every few steps, the boy paused, pen hovering, brow furrowed. His breathing changed when he read something on his tablet, his lips murmuring something too soft for anyone else to hear.
Zayn's mind catalogued the details: the timing of every gesture, the exact moment Luca came to a realization, and the way his ring caught the light—with Zayn's own mana brushing faintly against it.
He exhaled slowly. He needed to find a new hobby as soon as possible. In fact, Zayn had no hobbies. If he were to claim a hobby, then it would have to be examining Luca.
But the boy had taken distance from him. Even if it was subtle, Zayn could tell. He would do the same. This inexplicable attraction was better left alone, unexplained, and avoided. Zayn doubted his abilities to refrain, but he would try. For Luca. Because that is what he wanted. And from the message he had received from his father, it may as well be the best course of action for him, too.
Zayn exhaled. It bothered him that the person monitoring the Lunar Lily sigil was tracking every pulse of energy from Luca's body and every shift in external mana feeding it—just as he was. But his actions could be excused—the scum's couldn't.
"The moment he moves wrong or panics, they'll know. And I'll know," Zayn thought.
The scum who had placed the sigil believed they were waiting for Luca to make a move, but they hadn't considered that Zayn was already three steps ahead.
His lips curved slightly. It was a predator's patience: the thrill wasn't in the attack but in the waiting and in the quiet observation.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN: A FORMAL REQUEST FOR HELP.
LUCA STERLING
Luca waited by the printer for his scanned copies, tapping his fingers lightly as the machine hummed in the quiet but chatty library. He had slicked his hair back once again because he truly believed it suited him well, and it made his light green eyes pop out nicely. He had also swooped his baby hair in tiny swirls to add to the look. There were many people in the library, as some preferred working there rather than in their own offices or in the cafe. Keyboards clicked, and the faint scent of ink filled the air of HQ.
Luca wasn't sure if the printer had been working right. He'd been waiting for a couple of minutes, only for one piece of paper to actually print. That led him to thinking it had broken, so he took out his phone and called Margot because the local technician was on vacation and Margot knew how to fix stuff.
A few moments later, Margot appeared wearing a lab coat and protective glasses, although she most likely didn't need them.
"Sterling, hey, what's up?"
"Hi, Margot. I think this machine might be broken, and I need to print copies, so I thought I'd phone you to see if you could fix it," he said, smiling lightly at the sight of her.
She smiled back, pretending to be in deep thought, tapping her foot on the ground and rubbing her chin and all that. Just like Vae. "Well, if it's you asking me… of course!"
Luca sighed in relief. He had been subconsciously holding his breath in case she might say no. He knew she was going to agree, but there was always a small chance of a no, even if it were atom-sized.
And so, Margot conjured her toolbox from thin air and began the maintenance. She said it'd take a couple of minutes, but judging from the speed she worked at and used her magic, it seemed like it'd take even less than one. Some people caught brief stolen glances, while others were absorbed in their computers.
Luca watched her process attentively, as if just that were enough for him to catch some of the basics, and then he remembered he couldn't use magic. There was no point in even looking.
Fortunately, Margot finished quickly and gave Luca a thumbs up while her toolbox disappeared into thin air, not unlike the way it had appeared.
For a moment, they both stood still, and then Margot opened her arms wide, smiling at him. Luca stepped closer and hugged her back.
She patted his back lightly before letting him go quickly and whispered, "you look so much better now. Glad you took the initiative to take care of yourself."
For a reason unknown to him, Luca felt himself blush at that. "Yeah… I… took care of myself. I figured it was about time, y'know?" he said, but it felt like he was lying through his teeth, and it wasn't the most pleasant thing to feel.
She nodded slowly, her expression quite unreadable, before skedaddling away toward the lab. Luca waved her goodbye before returning to the printer. He glanced down when his papers were almost done printing when a loud noise startled him. At first, there were faint knocks—the kind that promised disruption—and then HQ's front doors at the lobby swung open before anyone could answer. Everyone heard it since the library was at the front of the building, right next to the door.
A sharp, commanding, robotic voice cut through the silence like a whip. "The Sovereign Ledger," the voice said. "We have a High-Grade Sovereign matter requiring immediate attention."
Heads turned, eyes widened, jaws dropped, and then she appeared: Scovina Scillivar, wearing the kind of stormy expression that could make even seasoned investigators rethink their careers.
Whispers erupted, and Luca heard somewhere, "someone get Director Vyserion..."
Luca watched her walk towards the reception desk and the poor receptionist, who was probably just as startled as he was, through the glass windows of the library. He immediately left his papers and walked behind Scovina. He felt bad for it since Margot had just finished fixing the printer, and then he just left the papers behind. Matter of fact, Scovina sounded horribly different from what she usually did, like a robot.
Luca swallowed before tapping her on the shoulder gently. "G-good afternoon, Your Grace," he began tentatively. "If you'd come with me, Your Grace, I can take you to a waiting room and let Director Vyserion know you're here regarding the issue."
Her head snapped back almost immediately, and she stared him in the eyes with her intimidating gaze. "I do not wait. Get. Him. Here. Now," her synthetic voice said.
"Ah—yes, of course. Please come with me," Luca said hesitantly.
She scoffed, her expression still stormy, and she followed behind him. She wore a grand purple dress that was detailed intricately and slid across the floor. Fitting for a siren duchess.
Luca led her to the elevators and stood aside so she could step in. Her dress trailed behind her, and she had to scrunch it up so it could fit. Luca furrowed his brows, confused on how he should step in beside her, as her dress nearly covered the entire floor. There was a tiny empty space where Luca would have to leap before the elevator doors would close. So he shut his eyes and hoped for the best. Scovina stared at him wide-eyed. She was surprised at his recklessness. He smiled at her awkwardly until she looked away and pressed the button to the 8th floor, which was where Zayn's office was. The couple of seconds it took may have been the longest, most uncomfortable moment Luca had ever had. Beneath the heavy perfume and saltwater scent typical of sirens, Luca thought he detected something fair and sweet—almost like crushed lilies. He dismissed it quickly. His sense of smell had been unreliable ever since the sigil incident.
When the doors opened, he walked out and held his hand out respectfully. She seemed to hesitate before she took his hand and walked out before Luca nervously released her hand.
Nearby assistants stopped their conversations mid-word; they all stared Scovina and Luca down, and he was convinced some of them weren't even trying to be any less obvious. He overheard someone saying, "that's Duchess Scillivar in broad daylight..."
And just as they were in the middle of the hallway, a staff member quickly interrupted them with a cold sweat trailing down their forehead. The woman was sprite.
"Director Vyserion is currently—"
"Move," Scovina said, leaving no wiggle room.
The sprite froze for half a second before stepping aside so quickly that she nearly collided with the wall. Luca offered the woman an apologetic look as he followed behind the duchess, who had taken the lead further down the hallway. Behind them, the quiet murmur of the office began again—only now it was filled with whispers.
"…Why is she here?" "...That's really her..." "...I heard there was a problem..."
Luca pretended he couldn't hear any of it, smiling as if he were completely unaware. If this were any other time, though, he would have scolded those employees for spreading rumours and talking behind people's backs.
They stopped in front of Director Vyserion's door, and for a moment, Luca hesitated. His hand hovered awkwardly in the air as he prepared to knock, and he tried not to acknowledge the dumbfounded look Scovinaa was shooting him in his periphery. She probably thought he was an idiot.
And just when Luca's knuckles were about to collide with the wood, the door opened before them.
Zayn K. Vyserion stood in the doorway, looking as composed as ever, as though a furious duchess appearing unannounced was an entirely ordinary part of his afternoon. His eyes moved briefly to Luca, then settled on Scovina.
"Duchess Scillivar," he said, voice evenly calm.
There was a short pause, then "Prince Zayn."
Zayn tilted his head ever so slightly and then leaned in slowly to whisper something in her ear. "When I am at work, you use the correct title, you hear?" He said.
Scovina quickly corrected herself, as if she were in fear, but anyone could tell she wasn't. "Director Vyserion," she said.
Zayn stood still for a moment, then nodded in satisfaction. "You sound different, duchess."
Scovina's expression tightened, but she ignored the observation.
From the back, Luca awkwardly dismissed himself and spun on his heels, knowing the upcoming conversation did not concern him.
But after his third step, something in his body told him to stop. He froze, and when he turned back, Zayn had lifted his hand, telling him to pause. "He will remain here as a work policy."
Luca furrowed his brows in confusion. He had read the TSL terms and conditions, workplace policies, employment manual, his own contract, and many more about a hundred times each, and not one of them ever mentioned that an employee had to stay when the director was in a meeting. None. He wiped the embarrassment off of his face and acted as if it were really a policy. And of course, he was going to talk to Zayn about this.
"Way to ruin my attempt at keeping my distance," he thought.
Zayn stepped aside, gesturing calmly toward the office. "Come in."
Scovina entered without waiting. Luca followed a step behind her, suddenly feeling very aware that he had accidentally escorted a duchess into the director's office like a delivery package instead of bringing her to a waiting room.
Once the door closed, the room grew quiet. Zayn moved behind his desk, clasping his hands together. "Explain the situation, Scovina."
Luca's jaw nearly dropped to the ground. Zayn had just called the duchess by her first name—was the respect shown outside all for show?
Scovina remained standing, but a faint vein slightly twitched at her neck. "Tsk. There has been an incident within my dukedom," she said. "One that falls under High-Grade Sovereign jurisdiction.
Zayn folded his hands. "And you require an investigator."
"Yes."
He nodded once, grabbing some files in a drawer near his desk. "That can be arranged."
There was a silent pause. Then Scovina said, "but I will only accept a human, the best one you have, period."
The silence that followed was immediate. Luca panicked internally, raking a hand through his hair. What was that supposed to mean?
Zayn's gaze shifted slowly to Luca.
"No, look away, look away! I have my own case!" Luca thought.
Zayn stayed silent for a very long moment and then glanced back at Scovina with something burning under his silver gaze. He did not speak a word.
"Why a human, hm?"
"Will you help, or will you not?"
"Stubborn, are we?" Zayn said lowly. Then, "I will think about it.
"Think?" She repeated, the metallic distortion briefly sharpening her voice. "Director Vyserion, the matter is already beyond the point of thinking."
Zayn leaned back slightly in his chair, unmoved. "That remains to be determined."
The faint twitch in Scovina's neck became more pronounced as she gradually lost her composure. "Three of my inner sanctum gardens have been compromised. My Eternal Chorus has been hijacked, and we have lost our beautiful voices," she said, holding up the artificial voice device she had been using.
Luca's eyes widened. That was why she sounded… off.
Her voice tightened, "there has been an intrusion within my dukedom," she said. "A Sovereign-class disturbance connected to the Lunar Lily flowers."
At that, Luca saw Zayn's fingers still against the desk. He felt his stomach drop abruptly. A Lunar Lily. The sigil.
Zayn's silver gaze sharpened, but his expression remained unreadable and restrained. "Within siren territory?"
"Yes."
"And you believe the elves are responsible."
Scovina's lips curled up faintly, and she rested her hands over her crossed legs. "They have the most obvious connection to the symbol."
The room fell quiet. Zayn watched her for a long moment. Luca watched them both, feeling awkward and out of place.
"You still have not explained why you require a human investigator, Scovina."
Scovina's eyes flickered briefly toward Luca and returned to Zayn just as quickly.
Luca furrowed his eyebrows in confusion—he hoped she wasn't planning to ask for the exact thing he did not want.
"Because your investigators rely on mana detection," she finally said. If this were any other person, that may have sounded offensive. But this was Scovina.
Zayn didn't move. But he knew. She knew. And Luca knew, too. "And humans do not."
"Correct."
Scovina clasped her hands lightly in front of her dress. "If the perpetrator is attempting to disguise their mana signature, a human investigator would be less susceptible to magical interference.
Luca frowned slightly. He didn't like where this was going. Her explanation sounded logical, but something about the way she said it felt wrong and rehearsed.
Zayn noticed his hesitation. His gaze slid toward Luca again, then back to Scovina.
Finally, Zayn said, "And which human investigator did you have in mind?"
For the first time since entering the room, Scovina smiled, but it felt uncanny. She turned her head directly to Luca. "This one."