The following morning arrived swiftly. Asher’s eyes fluttered open, greeted by the soft caress of sunlight streaming through the window. He sat up slowly, stretching with a yawn, savoring the tranquil comfort of the moment.
His gaze swept across the room, lavish in every detail, a testament to the opulence promised by its extravagant price of one hundred gold coins. Yet, even in all its grandeur, it still paled in comparison to his room in the Wargrave estate.
Asher remained seated on the bed for a brief moment before finally rising to his feet. Yet, the instant his soles touched the ground, a knock echoed sharply through the room.
’Can I at least take a step before you knock, Lyra?’ he thought, exhaling mentally in mild exasperation.
"Come in, Lyra," he called out.
The door opened with practiced grace, and Lyra entered, her expression composed, her smile gentle.
"Good morning, Young Master. I trust you slept well?" she asked with quiet warmth.
"I did, indeed," Asher replied smoothly. "After all, sleeping in a forest and sleeping in a proper town are worlds apart, wouldn’t you agree?"
Lyra’s gaze softened, as though intuitively sensing the unspoken concern behind his words, the unease born from threats that lurked in the shadows.
"Whatever may come, Young Master, know that we will always be by your side to protect you," she said with quiet conviction.
Asher smiled faintly, a calmness in his eyes.
"That much, I know, Lyra. I have no doubt in your strength."
During one of their conversations on the road to the capital, a pastime Asher often turned to whenever boredom set in, given that weak beasts didn’t appear with predictable frequency, he had casually inquired about Lyra’s Life Rank.
To his surprise, she revealed she had attained the Flare Firmstar Life Rank.
Asher found it difficult to comprehend how someone of such strength served merely as a maid. The revelation stirred further curiosity in his mind, just how powerful must Zarek be, the man known as the right hand of the Primarch?
In truth, Asher had no real sense of their capabilities, whether it was Lyra, Zarek, or even the Primarch himself. None of them had ever demonstrated their strength in combat before him, let alone sparred.
With a quiet sigh, Asher shook his head, dismissing the thoughts. There was no point dwelling on what he could not yet grasp.
"What plans do we have for the day, Lyra?" Asher asked, settling himself before a mirror.
His gaze lingered on his own reflection, a confident smile curling his lips as he quietly reaffirmed what he had long believed, his face was nothing short of a jackpot.
"No plans, Young Master," Lyra replied calmly, standing with quiet poise at his side. "The Royal Party begins tomorrow. Until then, your schedule remains open."
"So, nothing to do but lounge indoors," Asher muttered, drumming his fingers lightly against the table before him. With a sigh, he rose from his seat and made his way to the bathroom for a quick rinse.
As always, Lyra had anticipated his needs, the bath was already prepared. After a brief wash, Asher returned and dressed in a fresh set of clothes. Just as Lyra raised her hand to summon breakfast from her spatial ring, Asher gently stayed her motion.
"I’ve just left the Wargrave estate for the first time since birth," he said, his tone thoughtful. "Let me explore what the capital has to offer, at least for today."
Lyra paused, then offered a small nod of understanding.
"Do we have a particular destination in mind, Young Master?" Lyra asked, her tone carrying a note of mild curiosity.
"Not really," Asher replied with a faint shrug. "We’ll simply walk around for now."
In truth, he had no idea where anything was. But that hardly mattered. He intended to wander the capital aimlessly, taking in the sights before returning later.
He supposed he could be spending the day training, refining his skills and pushing his limits. But Asher believed firmly in balance. A life devoted solely to discipline, without moments of enjoyment, was hollow.
Staring at himself in the mirror, Asher’s figure literally screamed nobility. Not just any noble, definitely a prince or close.
"Fetch me something simpler," he said, his voice calm, his gaze still fixed on the mirror.
He had no intention of spending the day fending off stares from every direction like some rare creature on display. Today was meant for leisure, not spectacle. Still, that didn’t mean he would stoop to wearing the attire of commoners.
No, he would don garments befitting a noble, just ones of slightly lesser quality. Enough to tone down the overwhelming impression of status and presence... if only by a little.
He knew, of course, that his striking features alone would still draw attention. Some things, after all, couldn’t be hidden.
A few minutes later, Lyra returned with a set of simpler garments. Asher changed into them with measured ease, and once dressed, he lowered himself into a chair.
"Call in the guards stationed outside," he said.
Lyra gave a small nod and stepped out, returning moments later with the guards in tow. Clad in heavy armor and armed to the teeth, their presence was imposing, far too conspicuous for the kind of day Asher had in mind.
The moment he saw them, Asher sighed inwardly. ’If I walk around like this, I might as well carry a royal banner while I’m at it.’
"I’ll be exploring a portion of the capital today," he began, his voice even. "I understand your duty is to protect me, but I’d prefer not to attract the entire city’s attention while doing so."
He let his words sink in for a breath before continuing.
"So today, you’ll change into plain normal attire. You’ll follow from a distance, discreetly, each of you positioned separately throughout the area. I want your protection, but without the announcement."
His tone was clear but not unkind, firm, yet trusting.
The guards understanding his words, nodded. Asher told them to head to the bathroom and change there.
Turning to Lyra he spoke "You too. You won’t be wearing your maid clothes today. Also, you wouldn’t walk a step behind me. You will walk beside me today"
Lyra gave a nod of acknowledgment, then vanished. Within three seconds, she reappeared dressed in an entirely different outfit.
"How much coin do we have to spend?" Asher asked, unwilling to risk emptying his pockets before the day was over.
"I was entrusted with three platinum coins prior to our departure," Lyra replied with a calm tone.
Asher’s steps came to an abrupt halt at the mention of the sum.
’Three platinum coins? Truly the mark of a Duke’s household, to hand out such wealth as if it were common produce. Still, who am I to complain?’ With that thought, he resumed walking.
"Don’t forget to bring the coachman along," Asher said as he stepped out. "Our first task today is simple, sample the cuisine this hotel... inn has to offer. Everyone’s ordering."
Lyra walked at his side with casual ease, just as he had instructed. The guards, for now, moved like ordinary travelers, unassuming, unremarkable.
But the moment they stepped beyond the inn’s threshold, their roles would shift. From that point forward, their duty to protect would begin in earnest.