Aidan stepped closer to the bed where his father sat. "Father, I have something I want to show you," he said.
Liam lifted his head, gazing at Aidan. "Go on."
Aidan pulled the bracelet from his trousers and held it out. Sophia, seated beside Liam, frowned as she examined it. "Where did you get this?" she asked.
"Step-grandmother gave it to me."
"Who?" Sophia asked, confused.
"He means Charlotte, Sophia," Liam answered.
Sophia used the mana to Levite as she took the bracelet from Aidan, her expression concern as she inspected it. Unable to find anything, she passed it to Liam.
"You should check it, Liam. I might miss something, but you won't," she said before turning back to Aidan. "When did you meet her?"
"After reading in the library, I went to the garden for fresh air and encountered her at the entrance there," he replied.
"I see." Her gaze grew slightly downcast.
"Mother," Aidan asked, studying Sophia's expression, "is she a bad person?"
"Not really," Sophia said, hesitating over how to explain the situation to her child.
"There's nothing wrong with the bracelet—you can use it if you want," Liam interjected. Then, without preamble, he added, "Charlotte opposed my marriage to your mother." His tone was blunt, leaving no room for ambiguity. "That's one reason your mother and Lily don't like her."
"Liam!" Sophia hissed, her voice laced with exasperation and alarm. "Why are you telling this to a child?"
"Calm down, Sophia," Liam said, gesturing toward Aidan. "He's far more perceptive than you might think." His voice carried quiet certainty as he added, "He'll understand."
Aidan felt as though his father might have guessed he'd been hiding his abilities. "I see," he said. "You have valid reasons to dislike her. But why was she against your marriage with father?"
Liam opened his mouth to respond, but Sophia quickly covered it with her hand.
"There's no need to dwell on the past," she interjected, her voice gentle but firm. "We'll explain everything when you're a little older."
Liam gently brushed her hand aside. "It's fine, Sophia. I wasn't going to say anything about it - that's something only you can decide. When and how to tell him is your choice. Whether you want to share your past with Aidan or not isn't something I'll interfere with."
Sophia felt a mix of gratitude and guilt as she lowered her gaze. "I just got a little flustered," she admitted. "I know you never hesitate to say what you want."
Liam chuckled softly before wrapping her in a warm hug. "It's fine, I understand."
Meanwhile, Aidan, who had been trying to slip away from the unexpectedly sentimental moment, found himself caught off guard when Sophia pulled him in. Before he could protest, he was sandwiched between them, trapped in their embrace as sleep too eventually hugged.
Henry, who had been appointed as Aidan Wilson's teacher, walked through the halls of the Wilson estate with a calm pace, his eyes occasionally drifting to the servant guiding him.
Thoughts rolled through his mind. Being selected to teach a noble heir wasn't easy—especially not in a family like the Wilsons. But then again, Henry hadn't needed to compete for the position. The role had come to him.
He'd taught many children over the years: rebellious ones who challenged everything, mischievous ones who never sat still, and those who clung to their family name like it was a divine badge. Most of them faded from memory not long after the lessons ended.
But this time was different.
The boy—barely four—spoke with a clarity and thoughtfulness that twice his age lacked. He was Mature, focused, and oddly composed.
Henry stroked his goatee, a habit that came with thought and his role. There was something unusual about Aidan. Something not born from just a strict upbringing or a genius mind, he also carried.
A primordial name.
Henry swallowed without meaning to, his grip tightening slightly around his cane. His eyes sharpened behind the calm mask he wore.
Liam's child bears a primordial name.
A name from an age so distant lost in the epoch. Those who bore such names… they weren't normal. Perhaps, they weren't meant to be.
He shook the thoughts from his head. Now wasn't the time. He still had a role to play, and he intended to play it well. The cane in his hand clicked softly against the floor—a prop more than anything, something he used to sell the image of an old, grounded teacher.
As he stepped into the classroom, his expression softened into a pleasant smile.
Aidan, already seated, stood and offered a short bow.
Henry noted the gesture. Most children ignored formality once he introduced himself as a peasant —or rather, the false background he'd offered, but Aidan did not shy away from bowing to even a peasant.
He tapped his cane gently as he approached. "Tell me, Aidan. Did you practice the material from yesterday?"
Aidan nodded, sliding a book toward him. "I did it."
Henry flipped through the pages, noting the complete and correct answers. He closed it and nodded in approval.
"Good boy," he said simply. "Shall we begin with etiquette, then?"
"Alright," Aidan replied.
Etiquette was an expected part of noble education. For now, Aidan focused on theory—why nobles behaved the way they did, the structure of noble conduct, and the subtle rules hidden in every gesture and word.
Henry explained the reasoning behind posture, the purpose of silence in conversation, and the weight certain phrases carried. Aidan listened closely.
Two hours passed quickly before Henry set his materials aside. "That's all for today. We'll stop here."
"Alright, teacher," Aidan responded, leaning back slightly in his chair.
Henry tilted his head. "You did well—better than last time. It's amusing. Most noble children love etiquette and avoid real lessons. You're the opposite."
Aidan grinned and rubbed his hands together like a merchant about to get a lucrative deal. "Teacher, do you remember what you said yesterday?"
"The one question you're allowed to ask?" Henry asked a hint of amusement in his tone.
"Yes!" Aidan leaned forward, hands pressing on the table. "One thing!"
Henry rested both hands on his cane. "Go ahead."
"I want to know about the Wilson family history."
"Henry looked at Aidan, his gaze locking onto the boy's as he lifted a hand from his cane to ruffle his goatee. It's understandable for a child to be curious about his family, Henry thought."
"You sure?" Henry asked. "This is something you'll learn eventually. Your father will teach you when the time's right. There's no need to rush into questions that patience could answer on its own."
Aidan paused, his eyes drifting to the side as if weighing the cost of his curiosity. But there was no hesitation in what he said next.
"Teacher… I've decided. I want to understand my family."
Henry looked at him for a while, then smiled faintly.
"Alright," Henry said, leaning back in his chair. "Then listen well, Aidan."
He paused—just a moment.
"Yours is one of the strongest families in the world."