Camelot, sitting at the table, finally decided to consider his family.
More precisely, the remaining two people sitting opposite.
The woman sitting next to the Viscount was his mother.
Viscountess Eleanor Canham.
She was about thirty-five years old, but she looked a little older.
His stern features, snow-white black hair, and fine wrinkles around his eyes and lips betrayed his constant tension.
She was barely attracted to food now.
Instead, she kept looking at Camelot.
«I’m so glad to see you.
Are you sure you’re feeling okay?» she asked for the third time while they were having lunch.
«Yes, Mom.»
Eleanor frowned.
«Does your head hurt?»
«No, I’m not.»
«No nausea?»
«No, I’m not.»
«Maybe you should go back to the bedroom after all.»
Camelot put down his fork.
«Mom, don’t worry.
It won’t happen to me again.»
«Okay…»
She smiled, but the worry in her eyes didn’t go away.
There was another young man sitting next to Eleanor.
The blond guy.
So neat that Camelot couldn’t help but want to ask how much time he spends in front of the mirror.
Every strand of hair was in its place.
The clothes were perfectly ironed.
Even the cutlery lay flat in front of him, as if he had personally measured the distance between them.
Adrian Canham.
The eldest son?
Camelot didn’t know yet, the grimoire was silent for now.
But judging by the way the others treated him, Adrian’s position in the family was clearly special.
«By the way.» Eleanor looked at her husband.
«Have all the guests left yet?»
Arthur nodded.
«Yeah.
The last carriages left the manor about an hour ago.»
«Okay.»
Eleanor looked at her son again.
«I was so scared when Tatiana came running and said you had fainted.»
Camelot didn’t answer.
He already knew what had happened.
But to them, it was an ordinary son who caused trouble again.
«You haven’t eaten anything since that night,» the mother continued.
«Why did you go to the greenhouse alone at all?»
«I wanted to paint in the middle of the night.»
Adrian chuckled softly.
«Really?»
Camelot looked at him.
«What’s so funny about that?»
Adrian shrugged.
«Nothing.»
A perfectly polite smile appeared on his face.
«It’s just strange to hear this from a man who, after three glasses of wine, can no longer distinguish a brush from a bottle.»
The table became quiet.
Eleanor frowned.
«Adrian…»
«I was just joking, mom.»
He calmly continued his dinner.
Camelot stared at him for a few seconds.
He’s a strange guy.
He didn’t seem to say anything special.
But the intonation was as if he specifically wanted to humiliate him, without leaving a formal reason for the remark.
Camelot shifted his gaze to Arthur.
He continued to eat.
There was no reaction.
«Father.» Camelot said.
«Yes.»
«You don’t want to say anything?»
«What about?»
«Adrian just…»
«He was joking.»
His father said it calmly.
Without irritation.
As if the matter had already been closed.
Camelot frowned as he understood.
Adrian could afford things like that.
He had a good reputation.
He was well-mannered, calm, neat, and, apparently, never caused scandals at receptions.
And Camelot?
The drunkard.
Womanizer.
The heir who constantly shamed the family.
Compared to Adrian, he looked almost like walking proof of why the Canham family tree could no longer be trusted.
«Don’t pay attention.»
Eleanor said softly.
Camelot looked at her.
«I’m not offended.»
Adrian smiled.
«Of course.»
Camelot slowly turned his head.
«Nothing.»
«Adrian took a sip of water.»
«It’s just that you’re unusually calm today.»
Camelot narrowed his eyes.
«And what am I usually like?»
Adrian wondered aloud.
«Loud.»
Pause.
«Cocky.»
Another pause.
«And a little…»
He pretended to be searching for the right words.
«Unpredictable.»
Eleanor sighed.
«Adrian!»
«I didn’t say anything wrong.»
Camelot didn’t say anything.
He looked at his family again.
Eleanor was worried about him.
Arthur was cold and distant.
Adrian was smiling as if his every attack was a casual joke.
An interesting family.
Camelot took a glass of water.
And suddenly his eyes became a little brighter, he saw a magical trace on Adrian’s hand.
Camelot blinked.
The light disappeared.
He looked again.
Nothing.
«Why are you looking at me like that?» asked Adrian.
«On your hand.»
Adrian frowned.
«On my hand?
What’s wrong with her?»
«It seemed»
Camelot pretended to lose interest.
But there was a familiar feeling inside him.
It was the same when the memories of Camelot’s past came back to him.
Magic.
And if his eyes could actually see her…
Then tomorrow the Council will have a lot of answers to their questions.
And now Camelot had questions too.
Does Adrian have magic?
If so, why is he hiding it?
And why does it seem to the guy that something is wrong in this house…
«Grimoire, how did the former owner of this body pass away?» Camelot mentally asked a question.
Suddenly, a book appeared, and he didn’t like what was written in it.
[Departure.]
He didn’t show it again and continued to have lunch, deciding to ask his parents.
At that moment, a new page unfolded in the air in front of the guy.
[Attention]
[Additional Task Received]
[There is an unfriendly person in the Canham family who killed the previous owner of this shell.
Find out who it was.
]
[Reward: Deduction Point +1, Boost some stats.]
Camelot continued to stare at Adrian.
Something about him seemed painfully familiar.
The silver grimoire turned the page again.
[Adrian Canham]
Age: 19
Race: Human
Gender: Male
Origin: The Canham Family
Kinship: Son of Viscount Arthur
Status: Representative of a side branch.
Magical Art: ???
Relationship with Camelot: Hostility/Rivalry.
Camelot had only one thought.
«What the hell do these question marks mean?»