Night settled quietly over the mansion.
The halls had grown silent hours ago, servants moving softly in the distance while the rest of the estate rested peacefully beneath the dim glow of lantern light.
Olivia sat alone near the window of her room.
One leg crossed over the other, a book resting unopened in her lap.
She hadn’t turned a single page.
Her thoughts kept drifting elsewhere.
To two boys.
Max.
And Mike.
The candlelight flickered softly across her face as she leaned back slightly in her chair, her fingers resting against her temple.
They were different.
Very different.
Max was quiet in a gentle way.
Even as a child, he carried himself carefully, always watching people before speaking, always seeming afraid of taking up too much space.
There was softness in him Olivia hadn’t noticed before.
A patience that should not have existed in someone who had been ignored for so long.
And somehow—
That made her chest ache the most.
Because Max had every reason to hate her.
But he didn’t.
Even now, when she thought about the future memories she carried, she remembered the way he still reached for her despite everything.
Like a child who had been starving quietly for affection but still offered love first.
Olivia lowered her gaze slightly.
“…Too kind,” she murmured.
Almost like criticism.
Almost like admiration.
Then her thoughts shifted toward Mike.
Mike was different.
Sharper.
Careful in another way.
Where Max withdrew silently, Mike watched everything with suspicion hidden behind calmness.
Every word he spoke sounded measured, as if he was constantly preparing himself for disappointment before it arrived.
He didn’t trust warmth easily.
And yet—
The moment someone showed him even a little kindness, he noticed every detail of it.
Olivia exhaled quietly.
“…They’re similar too,” she admitted softly to herself.
Both boys watched her reactions constantly.
Both tried pretending they needed less affection than they actually did.
Both became careful whenever she touched them unexpectedly.
And both—
Had learned far too early how to expect rejection.
That realization made something tighten painfully inside her chest.
Olivia leaned her head back against the chair and closed her eyes briefly.
Was Max like this because of me?
The question came naturally now.
Not defensive.
Not avoidant.
Just honest.
The old Olivia would have pushed that thought away immediately.
This Olivia couldn’t.
Because now she noticed things.
The hesitation in Max’s voice.
The way Mike stiffened whenever someone moved too suddenly.
The instinctive disbelief both children showed toward kindness.
Children were not born like that.
Adults made them that way.
Olivia’s fingers curled slightly against the armrest.
Then another thought surfaced unexpectedly.
She felt different around them too.
Around Max, guilt always came first.
Not overwhelming anymore—but constant.
Every time she imagined him, she remembered all the years she missed.
All the moments she should have protected him but didn’t.
With Max, her heart always felt heavy and warm at the same time.
Like holding something fragile she was terrified of breaking again.
But Mike…
Mike felt different.
There was guilt there too, strangely enough.
Not because she had hurt him before.
But because when she looked at him, she kept thinking—
If Max had stayed alone longer… would he have become like this too?
That thought unsettled her more than she wanted to admit.
Mike carried loneliness differently.
He hid it beneath indifference and caution instead of quiet hope.
And somehow, Olivia found herself reacting differently around him too.
With Max, affection came more naturally now, even if awkward.
But around Mike, she became strangely careful.
Almost cautious.
Like she was afraid any sudden kindness would scare him away.
Olivia opened her eyes slowly and stared out the window.
“…I don’t know what I’m doing,” she admitted quietly.
The words sounded tired.
Honest.
She was learning everything too late.
Learning how to speak gently.
How to notice others.
How to stay.
Even affection still felt awkward in her hands sometimes, like something she had forgotten how to hold properly.
And yet—
When she imagined Max smiling shyly at her…
Or Mike staring silently whenever she said something kind…
Something warm settled quietly inside her chest.
Small.
But real.
Olivia looked down at the unopened book in her lap before letting out a soft breath.
“…How troublesome.”
But despite the words—
A faint smile appeared briefly at the corner of her lips.
And this time, she didn’t force it away.
A man dressed in a black robe walked quietly through the crowded streets, his steps unhurried, almost soundless.
There was nothing loud about his presence, yet people moved around him instinctively, as if sensing something heavy hidden beneath that calm exterior.
His sharp blue eyes swept across every corner, every face, searching with silent purpose.
Eventually, he entered a small café named Lily.
The warm noise inside barely changed when he sat down near the corner.
He didn’t order much.
Didn’t speak much either.
He simply listened.
And slowly—
The information he wanted began to reach him on its own.
“The boy…?” someone whispered nearby.
“Oh, him?
I heard the Grand Duchess took him in.”
“That crazy woman?” another scoffed immediately.
“Please.
She only cares about chasing after the duke.”
“The same duke who barely acknowledges her,” someone added with a laugh.
“And didn’t she send away her own son recently?”
“What a miserable child…”
The conversations continued casually.
Cruel without effort.
The man remained silent through all of it, though his fingers paused briefly against the teacup in his hand.
His eyes darkened slightly beneath the shadow of his hood.
Then quietly—
He stood and left.
But while his footsteps stayed steady, his thoughts did not.
The moment he returned to the inn, Rue rushed toward him in panic.
“Grand Duke!” he cried dramatically.
“You disappeared again without saying anything!
Do you know how stressful that is for me?!”
The man removed his gloves calmly.
This was Peter.
The Northern Grand Duke.
Lucas’s younger brother.
Black hair.
Blue eyes.
A presence colder and quieter than Lucas’s—but somehow sharper.
“You worry too much,” Peter replied lazily.
Rue looked deeply offended.
“That is absolutely not the point.”
Peter ignored him completely and poured himself tea.
Then casually—
“Looks like I’ll have to visit my brother’s estate.”
Rue froze.
The teapot nearly slipped from his hands.
“…What?”
Peter glanced at him calmly.
“You’ve never visited him before!” Rue exploded immediately.
“You skipped the wedding, ignored every invitation, and now suddenly you want to visit?!”
Peter slowly pulled his sword halfway from its sheath.
Rue instantly straightened.
“…We should leave immediately,” he said professionally.
Peter chuckled quietly.
“What I’m looking for is there anyway.”
Rue blinked.
“…At the estate?”
Peter leaned back slightly, faint amusement appearing in his eyes.
“It seems,” he said lightly, “my dear sister-in-law has become attached to something that belongs to me.”
The letter arrived the next morning.
Olivia sat near the window when Nur handed it to her.
The moment she saw the sender’s name, her expression stilled.
Peter.
Her brows furrowed slightly as she opened it.
He was coming to visit.
Her fingers tightened around the paper almost unconsciously.
That alone was strange enough.
Peter had never shown interest in the estate before.
Never visited.
Never involved himself with Lucas or the family.
So why now?
Olivia lowered the letter slowly.
Something feels wrong.
That afternoon, Olivia stood outside the mansion with Max and Mike beside her.
The wind moved softly through the gardens while servants prepared quietly nearby.
Max looked up at her curiously.
“Who are we waiting for, Mom?”
Olivia glanced down at him.
“Your uncle.”
Max blinked immediately.
“…I have an uncle?”
A faint smile appeared at the corner of Olivia’s lips.
“Apparently.”
Max looked even more confused after that answer.
Olivia gently patted his head before her gaze shifted toward Mike.
Unlike Max, Mike had been unusually quiet ever since she mentioned the visitor.
“Stay close to me,” Olivia told him calmly.
Mike looked up slightly.
“…Okay.”
Though even he didn’t understand why uneasiness had already started settling inside him.
Peter’s arrival carried a strange pressure with it.
The moment the carriage stopped in front of the estate, the atmosphere itself seemed to quiet.
Servants straightened instinctively.
Even the wind felt still.
Peter stepped down calmly, black robes shifting lightly around him as his gaze lifted toward the entrance.
And immediately—
His eyes landed on Mike.
Silence followed.
Not long.
But sharp enough to be noticed.
Mike froze first.
Because the way Peter looked at him didn’t feel normal.
It wasn’t simple curiosity.
It was recognition.
Sharp.
Immediate.
Certain.
And the resemblance between them only made it worse.
The same dark hair.
The same blue eyes.
For one uncomfortable second, Mike felt strangely exposed beneath that stare, his body tensing instinctively.
Olivia noticed immediately.
Before the silence could stretch further, she moved subtly in front of him.
One step.
Small.
Protective.
Her hand reached behind her without looking, lightly pulling Mike closer until he stood partially shielded behind her side.
The movement itself was quiet.
But the warning behind it was not.
The warmth in Olivia’s expression disappeared completely.
Her gaze met Peter’s directly now—cold, sharp, and unwavering.
No dramatics.
No raised voice.
Yet the meaning was painfully clear.
Don’t.
Peter noticed it instantly.
And strangely—
Instead of irritation, something closer to surprise flickered briefly across his face.
Because that protectiveness wasn’t fake.
Wasn’t performative.
It was instinctive.
Real.
Behind Olivia, Mike unconsciously tightened his grip against the fabric of her sleeve, grounding himself in her presence little by little.
Beside them, Max glanced between the adults in confusion, clearly sensing tension he didn’t fully understand.
Then Olivia finally spoke.
“Greet your uncle.”
Her tone was calm again.
Controlled.
But her stance never changed.
She still stood between Peter and Mike.
And in that moment, without raising her voice once, Olivia made one thing undeniably clear—
No one would touch what she had chosen to protect.
Inside, away from Olivia—
Mike’s shoulders were still tense.
Max noticed.
“What happened?” he asked.
Mike hesitated.
“…I don’t know.”
Then quietly—
“Don’t you feel like… we look alike?”
Max blinked.
Then smirked slightly.
“If that’s true, then you should go with him.”
Mike rolled his eyes.
“In your dreams.”
Their words were light.
Almost playful.
But underneath—
There was something new.
A strange connection neither of them fully understood.