The conversation should have ended there.
Instead—
Mike suddenly spoke again.
“…But if dangerous things keep happening…”
Olivia looked up from the documents.
Mike’s expression had lost most of its usual dramatics now.
Rarely serious.
Which somehow made it more important.
“We should still become stronger.”
Max nodded quietly beside him.
“Enough to protect ourselves.”
Silence settled through the room.
Outside the doorway, the three men remained still.
Because this time— the boys weren’t asking out of curiosity.
They were asking because they understood.
Olivia watched them carefully for several seconds.
Measuring.
Thinking.
Then—
“…Fine.”
Both boys froze.
Mike blinked first.
“…What.”
Olivia rested her pen down calmly.
“You can learn.”
The reaction was immediate.
Mike nearly fell off the couch.
Max straightened so quickly it looked physically unnatural for someone usually this composed.
“You agreed?” Mike asked suspiciously.
“Yes.”
Max narrowed his eyes slightly.
“You normally refuse immediately.”
“I am adapting.”
Mike looked emotionally overwhelmed by this concept.
“That is terrifying.”
Olivia ignored that.
“You will learn properly.”
Now both boys were fully attentive.
Mike leaned forward instantly.
“From who?”
Olivia answered without hesitation.
“Mike.”
“Yes?”
“You prefer magic.”
Mike sat straighter automatically.
“You will learn from Duke Lucas.”
Silence.
Lucas froze outside the doorway.
Mike’s eyes widened slowly.
“…The terrifying duke?”
Olivia corrected calmly.
“The capable duke.”
Lucas stared at the doorway in complete silence.
Mike processed this with visible conflict.
“…That is somehow worse.”
Max looked toward Olivia next.
“And me?”
“You prefer swordsmanship.”
Max nodded once.
Olivia continued evenly,
“You will learn from the Northern Grand Duke.”
Now it was Peter’s turn to freeze.
Mike looked between them immediately.
“…Wait.”
Max blinked slowly.
“You are assigning dukes.”
“Yes.”
Peter muttered under his breath,
“She assigned us like staff.”
Lem looked deeply entertained for the first time in human history.
Inside the room, however, the boys had suddenly gone quiet.
Too quiet.
Olivia noticed immediately.
“What.”
Mike looked down slightly.
“…Then you will not teach us anymore.”
Max remained silent beside him.
But his expression had shifted too.
Smaller somehow.
Olivia paused.
Ah.
That was the actual problem.
Not the training.
Not the danger.
Them.
Olivia’s gaze softened faintly.
Rare.
Subtle.
But enough.
“I will still be there.”
Instant recovery.
Mike lit up immediately.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
Max asked more quietly,
“You will supervise?”
“I will monitor.”
Mike pointed dramatically.
“That is emotionally the same thing.”
Olivia did not argue.
Because it was.
The atmosphere reset instantly.
Mike looked ready to organize military operations again.
Max looked calmer.
Balanced.
Secure.
Then Mike suddenly frowned.
“…Wait.”
He looked toward Olivia suspiciously.
“Will they even agree?”
Olivia glanced toward the doorway calmly.
“You can ask them yourself.”
Silence.
Mike blinked.
Max slowly turned his head.
Olivia took another sip of tea.
“…Right, Dukes?”
Complete stillness.
Peter whispered under his breath,
“She knew.”
Lucas answered flatly,
“She always knew.”
Lem looked unsurprised.
Because of course she knew.
Three grown men with military training standing outside a doorway trying to eavesdrop on children was not exactly subtle.
After several painful seconds of silence—
Peter walked in first.
Mostly because dignity was already unrecoverable.
Lucas entered after him.
Lem followed quietly last.
Mike immediately pointed.
“You were spying.”
Peter corrected smoothly,
“Observing.”
“That is aristocratic spying.”
“…Fair.”
Max looked toward Peter calmly.
“You will teach me swordsmanship?”
Peter looked at him for a moment.
Then unexpectedly smiled slightly.
“If you can survive my training.”
Max answered without hesitation.
“I can.”
Interesting child.
Meanwhile Mike had already turned toward Lucas.
The room fell quieter immediately.
Because unlike Peter—
Lucas still carried that colder presence naturally.
Mike looked at him carefully.
Then—
“…Will your magic lessons kill me?”
Lucas stared.
Peter immediately looked away to hide laughter.
Lem outright stopped pretending.
Olivia calmly drank tea like this was normal.
Lucas finally answered flatly,
“No.”
Mike considered carefully.
“…Will they emotionally damage me?”
Lucas narrowed his eyes slightly.
“What does that mean.”
“It means you look psychologically expensive.”
Peter actually choked on air.
Even Max lowered his head slightly.
Lucas stared at Mike for a long second.
Then unexpectedly—
“…Probably.”
Mike nodded seriously.
“Thank you for your honesty.”
The room somehow became quieter after that.
Then—
Lem finally spoke.
“And me?”
Everyone looked toward him.
Lem remained leaning near the doorway, expression unreadable.
But there was unmistakable tension beneath it now.
Olivia looked at him calmly.
“Lem.”
“Yes.”
“I need information handled discreetly.”
A pause.
“Secretly.”
Lem went still.
Peter blinked.
Lucas narrowed his eyes slightly.
Because they all understood what that meant.
Not exclusion.
Assignment.
Trust.
Lem looked at Olivia carefully.
“…You are giving me intelligence work.”
“Yes.”
Another pause.
Then— for the first time— something faintly satisfied crossed Lem’s expression.
“I accept.”
Mike looked between all the adults dramatically.
“…We formed an organization.”
Max corrected quietly.
“A structure.”
Mike pointed at him immediately.
“See?
This is why you need sword training.
The training began three days later.
And somehow— the mansion became louder because of it.
Not chaotic.
Structured chaos.
Which was significantly worse.
The first morning started in the eastern training grounds.
Mist still clung lightly to the grass while servants carried wooden practice weapons across the yard.
Mike stood in the center wearing an expression of deep suspicion.
“This feels organized.”
Max adjusted the gloves on his hands calmly.
“It is training.”
“That is exactly why I am concerned.”
Nearby, Olivia sat beneath the shaded pavilion with several documents resting beside her untouched again.
Untouched because— despite herself— her attention kept drifting back toward the boys.
And toward the men training them.
Lucas stood across from Mike with complete stillness.
Dark coat.
Controlled posture.
The overwhelming presence of someone who looked born disappointed in humanity.
Mike stared up at him.
“…You really are terrifying in daylight too.”
Lucas looked unimpressed.
“You talk too much.”
Mike nodded seriously.
“Yes.
Grand Duchess says that constantly.”
Olivia, without looking up from her papers:
“Because it is true.”
Mike pointed immediately.
“See?
Emotional betrayal.”
Peter, nearby with Max, laughed under his breath.
And for the first time in years— the sound felt natural.
Max stood opposite him holding a wooden sword properly already.
Peter narrowed his eyes slightly.
“…Who taught you posture?”
Max answered calmly.
“I observe.”
“That is concerning.”
“So I’ve been told.”
Peter smirked faintly.
Interesting child.
Very interesting child.
Meanwhile, Lucas crouched slightly in front of Mike.
“Magic is not emotion.”
Mike looked offended.
“That sounds fake.”
“It is control.”
“That sounds worse.”
Lucas extended one hand calmly.
“Focus.”
Mike crossed his arms.
“I am focusing emotionally.”
“That is not focus.”
Olivia quietly covered the faintest smile behind her teacup.
Lem, standing beside the pavilion reviewing reports, noticed immediately.
Of course the children noticed too.
Mike pointed dramatically.
“She did the face again.”
Lucas looked toward Olivia automatically.
Wrong decision.
Because for a second— he forgot the lesson entirely.
Olivia sat beneath the morning light, calm and distant as always.
But when she looked at the children— something softened.
Not openly.
Not weakly.
Just enough to make the entire atmosphere around her feel warmer.
Lucas looked away first.
Peter noticed instantly.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
“Concentrate,” Lucas said flatly.
Mike narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
“You lost focus too.”
“You absolutely did.”
Peter outright laughed this time.
Even Max’s shoulders shifted slightly with hidden amusement.
Lucas looked deeply exhausted already.
And strangely—
He did not dislike it.
That realization alone irritated him.
Hours passed slowly after that.
Training became routine surprisingly quickly.
Max learned swordsmanship with terrifying precision.
Not flashy.
Not emotional.
Efficient.
Peter quickly realized the problem wasn’t teaching Max.
It was keeping him from overanalyzing combat theory.
“You hesitated there,” Peter said during sparring.
Max blocked calmly.
“Because your left stance was intentionally unstable.”
Peter blinked.
“…Correct.”
Max lowered the wooden sword slightly.
“You wanted me to attack recklessly.”
Peter stared at him for a moment.
Then I laughed quietly.
“You really are Lucas’ son.”
Max looked horrified.
“I would prefer not.”
Nearby—
Mike’s magic training was somehow both worse and more dangerous.
Lucas held out his hand calmly.
“Control the flow.”
Mike squinted in concentration.
A small orb of water floated upward— then immediately exploded sideways and soaked Lucas completely.
Silence.
Peter turned away instantly.
Max froze.
Lem stopped writing.
Olivia looked up slowly.
Water dripped from Lucas’ hair in complete silence.
Mike stared in horror.
“…That felt disrespectful spiritually.”
Lucas remained motionless.
Then—
Olivia laughed.
Actually laughed.
Soft.
Brief.
But real enough that the entire training ground froze.
Because that sound— that genuine, unguarded sound— almost never existed outside moments with the children.
Lucas slowly turned toward her.
And there it was again.
That strange feeling none of them knew what to do with.
Because Olivia was looking at them now too.
Not just the boys.
Them.
Small moments.
Tiny shifts.
But enough.
Peter leaned against his sword with a quiet smile.
“She laughs more during training.”
Lem answered calmly from nearby,
“Because this environment has lower emotional threat.”
Peter stared at him.
“You analyze happiness like warfare reports.”
“It remains accurate.”
Meanwhile Mike was still panicking.
“I did not mean to assault a duke.”
Lucas finally spoke.
“…Again.”
Mike blinked.
“Does that mean I survived?”
“Again.”
Mike immediately straightened proudly.
“Yes, terrifying magic instructor.”
Olivia sighed softly beneath the pavilion.
“You encourage him accidentally.”
Lucas looked toward her.
“You assigned him to me.”
“That was also accidental.”
Peter laughed again.
And somehow—
The entire training ground felt lighter after that.
Days passed.
Then weeks.
And without anyone realizing exactly when it happened—
The adults began looking forward to training too.
Not because of duty.
Not because of the children.
Because Olivia was there.
Always nearby.
Sometimes reading reports.
Sometimes correcting posture without standing up.
Sometimes quietly healing bruises like it was the most ordinary thing in the world.
And sometimes— very rarely— smiling.
Peter started arriving early just to drink tea near the pavilion before training began.
Lucas began extending lessons longer than necessary.
Lem handled “secret intelligence work” while remaining suspiciously present during every session anyway.
None of them acknowledged it aloud.
But all three realized the same thing eventually:
The children had become the center of Olivia’s world.
And training— was the first time she allowed them to stand near the edges of it without pushing them away.
One evening, after Max finally disarmed Peter successfully— and Mike managed not to explode water into someone’s face for an entire hour—
The boys collapsed dramatically onto the pavilion floor beside Olivia.
Mike looked upward.
“We are becoming powerful.”
Max corrected calmly.
“Competent.”
“Powerfully competent.”
Olivia set her book down slightly.
“You are improving.”
Both boys immediately looked pleased.
Peter watched from nearby with faint disbelief.
“…One sentence.”
Lucas folded his arms quietly.
“That is enough for them.”
Lem observed Olivia silently.
No.
Not enough for them.
Enough because it came from her.
Mike suddenly leaned against Olivia’s side without thinking.
Max sat close enough that their shoulders almost touched hers too.
Natural.
Unconscious.
Complete trust.
Olivia didn’t move away.
Didn’t stiffen.
Didn’t correct them.
She simply rested one hand briefly against Mike’s head while continuing to read.
And for some reason— that tiny movement hit harder than anything else.
Peter looked away first.
Lucas remained silent for too long.
Lem closed his notebook quietly.
Because all three men understood something now:
They had started staying for Olivia.
But somewhere along the way— this place itself had started feeling dangerously close to home.