Chapter 241: Chapter 241 – To The Elven Forest?

The evening had deepened into shades of amber and violet, the last traces of daylight spilling faintly across the room. Luca lay sprawled on his bed, one arm draped over his eyes. The silence pressed gently around him, broken only by the soft rustle of curtains shifting in the evening breeze.

What a strange situation… He exhaled through his nose, lips pulling into a half-smile that lacked conviction. And I can’t even talk about it with anyone. Not Aurelia. Not Vincent. Not anyone.

“I’ll think more about it when I have more information—if such a situation occurs again,” he muttered aloud, the words tasting hollow but steady enough to anchor him.

Pushing himself up, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, stretching as a low sigh left his chest. His head still felt faintly heavy, but restlessness stirred stronger than weariness. He needed air. Movement. Distraction.

He stepped out into the hallway, letting his feet carry him without a destination in mind. Through long corridors lined with portraits of solemn Valentines, down staircases where flickering lanterns cast soft pools of light, and past the muffled bustle of servants finishing their duties. He kept walking, not thinking—just letting the rhythm of his steps pull him forward.

A small chuckle escaped him, unbidden. The memory of a familiar scene nudged at him—how many times had he ended up wandering like this before? If I were back at the academy, he mused, I’d probably have ended up by the lake already…

His thoughts turned, inevitably, to her. The purple-haired woman. The one cloaked in mystery, always just at the edge of his reach. I don’t even know her name, and yet… I feel comfortable around her. Safer than I should. Why is that?

Lost in thought, Luca almost missed the figure ahead—until he stopped short.

Elowen stood on a wide balcony, her silhouette outlined by the burnished glow of the setting sun. Her long green hair was untied, flowing freely as the breeze caught it, strands shimmering like threads of emerald fire. Her arms were spread slightly, as though she meant to catch the wind itself, her eyes closed in quiet contentment.

Something about the sight softened Luca’s steps. He approached, clearing his throat lightly. “You seem to be enjoying yourself here, Senior Elowen?”

Elowen opened her eyes, turning her head toward him. Calm, steady, her lips curved into a small smile. “I indeed am.”

Luca came to stand beside her, leaning his forearms lightly against the balcony rail. Neither spoke for a while. The hush between them was not awkward, but companionable—two people simply letting the air and the view speak in their stead.

The sun sank lower, gilding the world in its final golden flare. Elowen’s gaze lingered on it, thoughtful. “So,” she said softly, “do you have any places in mind? Where you want to go, during this trip?”

Luca tilted his head, following the sun’s descent with his own eyes. His lips twitched faintly as if weighing an answer. “I do have some places in mind,” he said finally, voice low.

Elowen’s profile remained serene, though her eyes carried a subtle gleam. “Do you know why I followed your brother here?”

That caught Luca off-guard. His brows lifted, surprise flickering across his face. Wait—so my suspicions were right? She and Vincent…?

Before he could ask, Elowen spoke again, her gaze finally turning to him, crimson eyes steady and unreadable. “One of the reasons I came here is to take you to the Elven Forest.”

“…Me?” Luca blinked, confusion knitting his brow.

“Yes.” Her answer came simply, with no hesitation.

He opened his mouth, but no words came. The Elven Forest? Why me of all people?

Elowen’s gaze softened, as though she could see the storm of questions circling behind his eyes. “Did you seriously forget? The Mother Tree requested your presence. And the Elf Queen invited you herself, last time.”

Luca froze, the realization hitting him like a slow dawn breaking through mist. Memories stirred faintly—half-formed images, lingering impressions he had almost buried.

“Ahh…” He scratched the back of his head, forcing a laugh that came out more sheepish than anything. “That’s right.”

Luca leaned against the balcony rail, the soft glow of twilight brushing across his features. His brows furrowed slightly as he turned Elowen’s words over in his mind.

“The Mother Tree…” he murmured. “Why would she want to see me? I’m not an elf. I’m not even…” He trailed off, uncertain how to finish that sentence. Not even the real Luca? The thought stayed unspoken, but it gnawed at him.

Elowen’s expression remained calm, unreadable as always. The wind teased her green hair, carrying the faint scent of leaves and dusk. “The Mother Tree does not call lightly. When she chooses, it is never without reason.”

“That doesn’t answer the question,” Luca said, frowning. He wasn’t trying to sound harsh, but the unease crept into his voice regardless. “Why me?”

Elowen finally turned fully toward him, her gaze locking with his. For a heartbeat, it was as though her eyes peered through him, weighing something beyond what he could see. Then she smiled—soft, enigmatic, like the curl of a secret left half-untold.

“Some answers,” she said quietly, “can only be given by the Mother Tree herself.”

The cryptic weight of her words pressed against him, leaving Luca strangely unsettled. He tried to laugh it off, scratching his cheek. “That doesn’t help at all, you know.”

Her lips curved a little higher, though she said nothing more.

Luca sighed, pushing away from the railing. Still… I should go. Senior Elowen came all this way to bring me, and the Elven Queen herself invited me last time at the ball. It’d be rude to refuse…

But the thought of his friends tugged at him. “What about the others, though? Aurelia, Kyle, Selena, Lisa, even Lilliane. Can they even enter? I’ve heard the Elven Forest has strict restrictions.”

Elowen tilted her head, the fading light catching in her emerald eyes. “That’s no problem. Your brother will be coming with you, anyway. As for the others…” her lips quirked with the faintest trace of amusement, “I wouldn’t mind taking a few more of my… cute juniors.”

“Brother’s going?” Luca’s eyes widened. He couldn’t hide the note of surprise in his voice. “Seriously?”

Elowen’s smile only deepened, though she didn’t elaborate.

Before Luca could press further, the sound of footsteps approached briskly from behind. A maid dipped into a polite bow. “Young Master Luca. Madame is looking for you.”

The words hit him like a jolt. Luca straightened immediately, almost too sharply, beads of sweat forming at his temple. Mother…? Tch, she definitely wants to talk about that… How embarrassing! His stomach knotted as he rubbed the back of his neck. Well… better to face it now than later.

He forced a steady breath, nodding. “Let’s go.”

Turning back toward Elowen, he offered a short, polite bow. “I’ll take my leave, Senior. Thank you… for telling me.”

Elowen remained by the balcony, her hands lightly resting on the stone railing, her hair fluttering in the wind. Her expression didn’t shift much, but there was a quietness to her gaze—seems like she would like to stay here a moment longer.

With one last glance, Luca followed the maid down the hall, his steps heavy with the weight of what awaited him.

Luca followed the maid down the long corridor, his steps a touch uneven. The cool stone beneath his boots seemed to amplify the sound of every footfall, echoing louder than it should have. He rubbed his palm against his thigh once, then again, unable to keep his hands still. Beads of sweat had already gathered at his temple, the kind that no draft of wind could dry fast enough.

Mother definitely wants to talk about that… The thought gnawed at him with each step, his jaw tightening as he replayed countless possibilities. Would she scold him? Pry with that gentle smile that somehow made him more flustered than an outright lecture? Or worse—would she tease him, weaving words sharp enough to leave him red-faced and tongue-tied?

He tugged absently at his sleeve, fingers curling into the fabric. His heart thudded faster the closer they drew to the wing where his mother usually received her guests. The maids’ lanterns along the walls painted golden shadows across his face, but he still felt uncomfortably exposed, as though every servant they passed could see his embarrassment written plainly on him.

Why now? Why today of all times…?If only Aurelia would have locked the room. If I’d just slipped away to my room, maybe— He stopped that thought, sighing under his breath. No. Avoiding her never worked. Better to face it head-on, even if it meant swallowing his pride.

The maid guiding him glanced back once, perhaps noticing how his shoulders had stiffened and his brows had not unfurrowed since they left the balcony. She said nothing, only offered him a small, polite smile before facing forward again.

Finally, they reached a tall, carved wooden door, its frame etched with delicate patterns of lilies and vines. Luca’s throat felt dry. His hands clenched once, then opened, as if trying to release the tension, but the tightness in his chest remained.

The maid lifted her hand and gave the door a courteous knock. Her voice rang out clear and composed, cutting through Luca’s restless thoughts:

“Madam, I have brought the Young Master with me!”

Luca straightened instinctively at the words, spine taut, palms slightly damp, bracing himself for what lay beyond the door.

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