SURPRISED HEHE...enjoy the chapter and don't forget to comment and follow if this story piqued your interest.

  The next day, The Vladimir estate was calm in the absence of Kael Liam Vladimir. Yet, Duke Valdemar found himself uncharacteristically restless without Kael's presence to humiliate. The usual tension that clung to the grand halls had dissipated, but in its place was an unsettling emptiness.

  Meanwhile, at the modest inn where Kael had taken refuge, the morning light filtered through the wooden shutters. His long black hair was in a disheveled state when he awoke, strands cascading over his shoulder as he pulled himself upright. Without much thought, he moved to wash himself, allowing the cool water to wake his senses. When he returned to his room, he found a fresh set of clothes neatly placed on the small wooden table—a long-sleeved white shirt and a fitted pair of black pants.

  Kael donned the attire, the crisp fabric molding to his lean frame. He tucked the shirt into his pants before slipping into his boots. His fingers expertly gathered his long black hair, securing it into a high ponytail with a simple tie adorned with a swaying accessory. Lastly, he reached for the white cloth and methodically wrapped it over his eyes, securing it into a neat knot. The blindfold remained a part of his disguise—one he wore with unwavering discipline.

  A gentle knock came at the door.

  “Enter,” Kael said evenly.

  The door opened, and Quin stepped in, carrying a familiar cloak. He moved with purpose, draping the hooded fabric over Kael’s shoulders before securing it with a firm yet careful touch.

  “The innkeeper has invited us to join breakfast,” Quin informed, his voice light but tinged with subtle concern.

  Kael gave a small nod. “Very well.”

  With practiced ease, Quin guided his young master down the wooden stairs, playing along with Kael’s feigned blindness. Each step Kael took seemed to draw attention from the gathered guests—especially the young ladies and a few lords seated for their morning meal. He felt their gazes linger, intrigued by his mysterious presence.

  One step. Two steps. Three steps.

  As he reached the last stair, a voice cut through the murmurs of the inn, carrying an unmistakable weight.

  “Lord Ashen, congratulations on completing the mission from the Third Prince.”

  Kael’s body froze mid-step. A sharp breath hitched in his throat. The world tilted. His balance wavered, and before he could recover, his foot missed the step.

  Strong hands caught him. The grip was firm yet oddly gentle, as if afraid of breaking something fragile.

  “Young Master!” Quin’s voice was laced with panic.

  Kael’s mind spiraled. His breathing grew erratic as he barely registered the concerned murmurs around him. Then, another voice—one he knew all too well—slithered into his ears.

  “Thank you, Sir Xue. It is my duty to complete the mission.”

  The familiar cadence, the indifferent tone—it sent a violent shudder down Kael’s spine. Pain lanced through his chest, the old scar aching like a fresh wound. His grip on Quin tightened as memories surged, the cruel betrayal replaying like a cursed melody.

  “Young Master Kael?” Quin’s voice was barely above a whisper, concern bleeding into each syllable.

  The innkeeper approached. “Young master, are you unwell?”

  Kael swallowed down the turmoil clawing at his throat and forced himself to speak, though his voice was weary. “I… I am fine. Just need air.”

  Quin didn’t hesitate. “Let’s get you seated.”

  But fate had other plans.

  As Quin moved to lead him toward the nearest table, Kael unintentionally bumped into someone. He stiffened immediately and instinctively uttered a soft apology. But as he tilted his head up, the words died in his throat.

  His body tensed. His fingers curled. His breath faltered.

  Ashen Vilebane.

  Kael’s knees nearly buckled as he leaned further into Quin for support. His heartbeat pounded erratically, drowning out all other sounds. The face before him—so hauntingly familiar—belonged to the very man who had killed him in his past life. The very man who had ended Asael’s existence in cold blood.

  A choked breath left Kael’s lips, but he swallowed his panic and forced himself to maintain composure.

  “I apologize,” he murmured, his voice steady despite the tremor in his soul.

  Quin, unaware of the storm raging within Kael, quickly added, “My young master is recovering from yesterday’s ambush.” The innkeeper nodded in agreement, further emphasizing Kael’s supposed fragility.

  Ashen merely hummed, his tone carrying a faint hint of disinterest. “It’s fine.”

  But Kael caught it—the slight annoyance in his voice. Even after all this time, Ashen still sounded the same.

  “Let’s go,” Kael whispered, his fingers tightening around Quin’s sleeve.

  Quin wasted no time, guiding him toward a table near an open window where fresh air trickled in. But before Kael could fully steady himself, his stomach twisted painfully. A wave of nausea struck him like a crashing tide.

  Then, he lurched forward, vomiting all of last night’s meal.

  “Master Kael!” Quin exclaimed, immediately rubbing his back in soothing circles.

  The innkeeper quickly poured warm water into a glass and handed it to Quin, who pressed it into Kael’s trembling fingers.

  Kael barely registered it. His head spun as he collapsed into the chair, his hood casting shadows over his pale face. His covered eyes hid the torment that threatened to consume him whole.

  Ashen Vilebane was here.

  And Kael was not ready.

  To be continued....

  JUST KIDDING HEHEHE..

  Kael barely held back his nausea from meeting Ashen. He kept it to himself, willing his body to steady as he tried to regain his composure. But as he struggled, an image flashed across his mind—a stormy gray jade necklace. His breath hitched for a moment before he exhaled slowly, his fingers unconsciously twitching. Just thinking about that necklace somehow gave him an odd sense of comfort. He didn't know why, but despite it reflecting his own eyes on someone else's neck, it made him feel at ease.

  As his gaze shifted toward the window where he had just vomited earlier, a strange thought surfaced. Someone out there was still thinking about his past self, even when he no longer existed as Asael. But he wasn’t Asael Kian Ravenwood anymore—he was Kael Liam Vladimir from another kingdom. The past was buried, and he had no right to dwell on it.

  The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  Kael took another deep breath before turning his attention to Quin and the innkeeper, who both looked concerned about him. Despite the piece of cloth covering his eyes, he could still perceive the spiritual mana of those in front of him. His hood remained draped over his head, casting a shadow over his features. He offered Quin a faint smile, a mere ghost of reassurance.

  “I’m alright,” he murmured. “Just feeling unwell earlier.”

  Quin studied him carefully before nodding, though his eyes still held doubt. Then, he hesitated before speaking again, this time more quietly.

  “You know, Young Master,” Quin said, “Asael Kian Ravenwood was once Lord Ashen Vilebane’s partner.”

  Kael’s faint smile faded immediately.

  Quin continued, voice steady but tinged with something bitter. “He was… a remarkable person. Everyone who knew him spoke highly of him.”

  Kael observed Quin’s expression shift, his gaze darkening as it flickered toward Ashen’s back. There was no mistaking the emotions in his eyes—hatred, anger, and grief, all tangled together in a mess he likely didn't fully understand himself. Quin’s voice dropped to a whisper, barely audible even to Kael.

  “I don’t believe what that Lord Ashen said about Sir Asael’s death.”

  Kael’s fingers twitched, but he remained silent, listening intently.

  Quin clenched his jaw before he continued, “It’s impossible that Asael died just protecting him. He was powerful. A skilled swordsman. How could someone like him fall so easily?”

  Kael exhaled quietly, a rare, almost bitter smile forming at the corner of his lips. A smile he had rarely shown—even in his past life.

  “Good point,” he replied, his tone unreadable. “But… there were no witnesses.”

  The innkeeper, who had been silent until now, suddenly spoke up.

  “I’ve always admired Asael Kian Ravenwood,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “I never got the chance to meet him, though. The day I planned to go see him, he—” The man stopped himself, shaking his head with a sigh. “It’s a damn shame.”

  Kael felt something stir within him—surprise, perhaps, or maybe something heavier. He hadn’t expected to be known here, in this kingdom.

  Quin, seemingly eager to add more, chimed in, “I admired him too! I wanted to meet him, but I never got the chance either.” His voice softened. “Even now, his grave is unknown…”

  Kael’s fingers curled slightly on the table. Unknown, indeed. But he remembered it—the place where he had drawn his final breath.

  As the conversation shifted, he sat quietly, listening to Quin and the innkeeper exchange stories about him, recounting the good things about Asael Kian Ravenwood. It felt… odd, hearing people talk about him in a way that was detached from himself.

  The food was eventually served, and Quin, ever the attentive servant, ‘helped’ Kael by placing food on his plate. The act made the innkeeper watch them thoughtfully before he finally spoke.

  “Young man, do you need a special pole to help check the road ahead?” the innkeeper asked, his tone warm with genuine concern.

  Kael shook his head lightly. “That’s not necessary—”

  “Nonsense,” the innkeeper cut him off with a grin. “You helped my son when he was attacked. Consider this my gratitude.”

  Kael sighed inwardly, realizing there was no way to refuse without seeming ungrateful.

  “Then… may I at least know the name of the generous innkeeper?” he asked politely.

  The man beamed. “Ewald. Ewald Albrecht.”

  Kael nodded and reached out a hand to shake his—except his hand extended in the complete opposite direction.

  A brief silence followed.

  Quin stared at him, then at Ewald, and back at Kael’s misplaced handshake before immediately pressing his lips together, his face twitching as if holding back laughter.

  Ewald, on the other hand, simply stared in stunned amusement before he covered his mouth, clearing his throat.

  “Uh… I’m over here, lad.”

  Kael smoothly turned his head as if registering the mistake, then redirected his hand correctly. He heard Quin make a small strangled noise beside him, clearly struggling not to laugh.

  “Apologies,” Kael said smoothly, shaking Ewald’s hand firmly.

  Ewald chuckled, shaking his head. “You really do have it tough, huh?”

  Kael merely smiled faintly. “It’s manageable.”

  Quin, unable to hold back anymore, suddenly wheezed, covering his mouth. “Young Master,” he gasped between muffled laughter, “you looked so confident just now—”

  Kael didn’t react outwardly, but he knew Quin was thoroughly enjoying himself at his expense.

  Ewald chuckled as well. “Well, lad, if you ever need anything, you just let me know. I owe you one.”

  Kael inclined his head slightly. “I appreciate your kindness, Innkeeper Ewald.”

  As the conversation moved on, Kael could feel his strength slowly returning. Yet, deep down, the weight of meeting Ashen again still pressed against him like an invisible force. The stormy gray jade necklace lingered in his thoughts, a quiet comfort amidst the chaos.

  Kael placed a few silver coins on the wooden table, the soft clink barely noticeable over the murmurs of the inn. However, before he could push the coins toward the innkeeper, Ewald swiftly shook his head, a firm yet warm refusal in his eyes.

  "Keep your coin, lad," Ewald said with a chuckle, crossing his arms. "After what you and Quin did for my boy, a meal is the least I can offer."

  Kael’s fingers hovered over the coins before slowly withdrawing his hand. "Then... I’ll offer my gratitude instead. Thank you, Innkeeper Ewald."

  "Much appreciated, sir," Quin added, offering a small bow from his seat. "We won’t forget your kindness."

  Ewald simply waved them off before excusing himself. "Let me fetch something for you, Kael," he said as he disappeared into the back.

  As the table was cleared by a passing servant, Kael turned his head slightly toward Quin. "Quin," he called, his voice steady.

  Quin immediately straightened up. "Yes, young master?" He met Kael’s covered eyes, his gaze searching beneath the hood.

  Kael exhaled slowly. "I've come to realize something... You’re skilled in combat. Quick on your feet."

  Quin stiffened. "W-What?" He blinked, caught off guard by the observation. "How—?" He hesitated, then frowned slightly. "But my brother said you were..." Quin trailed off, recalling the words of his sibling. According to him, Kael was fragile, barely trained, and had only the most basic grasp of combat.

  Kael, as if reading his thoughts, gave a faint smirk. "My body may be weak, but my senses are not." He lifted a hand, as if gesturing vaguely. "I can feel it—your spiritual mana. Even with my eyes covered, I can still sense it."

  Quin’s eyes widened slightly before he gave a slow nod. "That... does make sense," he admitted, his initial shock fading into understanding. "I do specialize in close combat and have decent reflexes, but my swordsmanship is lacking. I never had a proper teacher."

  Kael seemed to consider that for a moment before speaking again. "If you don’t mind, I can point out some of your mistakes when training your sword techniques."

  Quin’s mouth fell open slightly before his brows furrowed in confusion. "You... know about swordsmanship?"

  Kael let out a nervous chuckle, scratching his cheek lightly. "Ah, well... I read a lot of books when I was trapped in the manor." A blatant lie, but it was a believable excuse.

  Quin, however, didn’t question it further. Instead, he leaned forward slightly, eyes shining with an unexpected excitement. "Then... would you really? Watch me train, I mean?"

  Kael gave a slow nod. "I will observe when you train."

  Quin grinned, clearly pleased by the offer. "That would be an honor, young master!"

  Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of boots against the wooden floor. Across the room, Lord Ashen and his entourage were preparing to leave. Kael tilted his head slightly, his covered gaze instinctively drawn toward the nobleman. For a brief moment, despite the cloth obscuring his eyes, he felt the weight of Ashen’s golden gaze lock onto him.

  Kael remained perfectly still. Unmoved. Unbothered. Pretending not to notice. His head remained draped under his hood, and he exuded an air of calm indifference.

  The tension hung in the air for only a moment before Ashen finally turned away, stepping out of the inn with his men. A heavy silence followed, broken only when the inn’s door creaked shut behind him.

  A deep sigh echoed from nearby. "Hah... Finally, he’s gone."

  Kael and Quin turned their heads to see Ewald approaching with a long wooden pole in his hands. He set it down beside the table with a thud before plopping into the seat across from them, rubbing his temples.

  "That one... Lord Ashen, is it? I can’t say I’m fond of him," Ewald muttered, shaking his head. "Man’s got the charm of a rusty dagger and the arrogance of a noble who’s never worked a day in his life."

  Quin let out a snort of amusement. "That’s putting it lightly, innkeeper."

  "Bah! I’ve seen his type before," Ewald continued, scratching his beard. "The kind that walks into a room expecting the floor to bow before his boots." He waved a hand dismissively before glancing at Kael. "Anyway, here’s a little something for you, lad. A walking pole. Thought it might help, considering, you know..." He motioned vaguely toward Kael’s covered eyes.

  Kael hesitated before reaching out, his fingers brushing against the polished wood. "You didn’t have to."

  "And you didn’t have to help my boy, but you did," Ewald said firmly. "So, take it, no arguments."

  Kael pursed his lips before nodding slightly. "Then, I’ll accept it. Thank you, Innkeeper Ewald."

  "Aye, that’s better, " Ewald grunted in satisfaction.

  Then, just as Kael reached out to shake hands with the innkeeper confidently, he deliberately stretched his hand in the complete opposite direction.

  Ewald blinked. Quin coughed, clearly holding back laughter.

  "Ah... lad," Ewald said slowly. "I’m over here."

  Kael, keeping up the act, frowned slightly and corrected his hand’s direction. "Apologies. Hard to tell without sight."

  Quin’s shoulders shook from suppressed laughter, and Ewald let out a deep chuckle, shaking Kael’s hand firmly. "No worries, lad. You’ll get used to it."

  As the three settled back, the air around them lightened. And for the first time in a while, Kael found himself relaxing—if only just a little.

  To be continued.