The door clicked shut behind them.
Lucas glanced around the dim storage room—crates, sacks of flour, the faint scent of herbs and old wood. Nothing unusual. Just a quiet, cramped space with one way in and out.
Lyss stood with her back to the door, arms folded loosely across her chest. Her cloak now hung open, revealing travel clothes far simpler than what he imagined someone of her status normally wore.
She didn't speak immediately.
Lucas, for his part, stood motionless. Tense. Awkward.
He let out a slow breath through his nose.
'Of all the damn things that could've happened today...'
This wasn't a trap. It wasn't an ambush. It was worse.
It was some noble girl dragging him into a broom closet for what? A secret chat?
His shoulders stiffened slightly as Lyss finally looked up to meet his eyes.
"I needed a break," she said, voice low but even. "That's all."
Lucas blinked. "...What?"
She sighed, brushing a strand of silver-blonde hair behind her ear. "My family's hosting a meeting with government agents tonight. Negotiations, territory rights, all that political crap. Everyone's focused, watching, judging every move I make."
Her expression tightened, tired.
"I'm always the heir. The face of House Elysian. Every word, every look—measured. Trained. Expected."
She glanced aside.
"Tonight, I just wanted to breathe. Eat something without being watched. Sit without being guarded. Is that really so strange?"
Lucas stared at her for a second longer.
Then looked away with a slow shake of his head.
'Couldn't care less.'
Lyss took a small step away from the door, letting her back rest against the wooden frame as she looked at Lucas more directly.
"I know it's stupid," she said, her voice quieter now. "It's not a rebellion or some grand escape. I just… needed a night. That's all."
Lucas raised an eyebrow, waiting for the point.
She studied him for a moment, then continued, "You recognized me. So I need you to promise you won't say anything. Not to anyone."
There it was.
The request.
Lucas exhaled slowly, arms still folded. His gaze didn't waver.
'Really? That's what this is about?'
He gave a dry, unimpressed scoff.
"I don't care who you are," he muttered. "I'm not some idiot who's gonna go running around saying, 'Oh look, a noble girl snuck out for dinner.'"
Her eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn't stop.
"I'm not interested in your house. Or your problems. Or your little... night off."
He turned away, already taking a step toward the door.
"You don't need to worry. I'm not gonna say a damn thing."
He paused, casting her a look over his shoulder.
"But next time, maybe pick someone who gives a shit."
The silence that followed was dense.
Lyss didn't answer right away. She just looked at him, expression unreadable. Not angry. Not offended. Just… still.
Lucas didn't wait for a response. He reached for the door handle.
"Thanks," she said softly.
He stopped.
Just for a moment.
But he didn't look back.
Didn't acknowledge it.
He opened the door and stepped out, the wooden frame creaking slightly behind him. The hallway beyond was quiet, bathed in the warm glow of oil lamps and the distant sound of plates clinking from the dining room.
Lucas walked away without hesitation, the door clicking shut behind him.
'What a waste of time.'
The hallway felt longer than before.
Lucas walked slowly, letting the tension in his shoulders fade with every step he put between himself and that conversation.
He didn't regret what he said. He just hated that she'd pulled him into it at all.
The room was just as he'd left it. Quiet, plain, and mercifully his.
He shut the door behind him and locked it. Then leaned back against it, exhaling hard.
Peace. Finally.
His gaze wandered toward the corner, where a small wooden tub had been filled earlier at his request—lukewarm by now, but still steaming faintly.
Lucas undid the straps of his armor and began peeling off layers, his body aching with each motion. Small bruises, cuts, dried blood. Most of it his.
He stepped into the tub slowly, sinking into the heat with a hiss between clenched teeth.
"…Shit."
It burned. And it felt incredible.
The hot water wrapped around him like a blanket, easing tension buried deep in muscles that hadn't had rest in days. He leaned his head back against the wall, letting his eyes drift closed.
No monsters. No nobles. No damn expectations.
Just silence.
After a long while, when the water had lost most of its heat, he got out, dried off with a rough cloth, and pulled on simple sleeping clothes.
The bed creaked under his weight as he collapsed onto it, arms behind his head, staring at the cracked ceiling above.
With a flick of thought, he summoned the system window in front of his eyes.
[Current Soul Level: 1 (16/1000)]
Lucas stared at it, unmoved.
'Still just a drop in the bucket.'
But it was something.
A start.
He closed the window, rolled onto his side, and let the world fade to black.