Legacy The Inherited Sword

Roran opened his eyes in Lucia's home, where he felt he'd stayed far longer than intended. The lingering effects of the recent events had mostly faded, thanks in large part to Lucia, to whom he now felt even more attached than before. After blinking a few times, he turned to his left and noticed Lucia lying beside him. Lately, she'd been doing this—curling up next to him while he slept. She had explained that he often looks like scared at night, so she stayed close, almost like a mother comforting her child. 

As Roran watched Lucia with a peaceful expression, she stirred slightly, sitting up and gazing around blankly, much like a baby. She turned her head slightly toward Roran, rubbing her eye, and said in a sleepy voice: 

"Good morning. Did you sleep well at least?" 

"I did, but don't you think it's time to stop sneaking into my bed at night?" 

Still under the effects of drowsiness, Lucia replied: 

"But you look so vulnerable and scared when you're sleeping." 

Roran had had this conversation before, so he decided not to press further. One of Roran's defining traits was that, unlike most people who only realize the value of what they have after losing it, he was always acutely aware of his blessings. He often felt grateful for them, and sometimes, the weight of that gratitude would hit him even harder, filling him with a warm, overwhelming sense of appreciation. Right now was one of those moments. 

Without a word, he wrapped Lucia in a tight hug. Lucia was momentarily surprised but quickly hugged him back. After lingering like that for a while, Lucia gently placed Roran's head on her lap and began to stroke his hair. Roran's face looked flustered, as if he didn't want this, but Lucia knew him too well. She understood that despite the strong and stoic image he projected to others, in moments like these, when they were alone, Roran's softer, more vulnerable side would surface. 

She knew how much he secretly craved attention and care. And it was a truth that only she knew—a truth she intended to keep to herself forever. 

After tending to Roran a little longer, Lucia suddenly planted a quick kiss on his cheek and stood up. Roran, who looked at her like a child whose toy had been taken away, caused Lucia to chuckle softly. She then said with a playful tone: 

"We can't stay in bed all day, can we? Come on, let's go eat." 

Hearing the mention of food, Roran's spirits lifted slightly. He got out of bed and followed Lucia to the kitchen. Lucia's parents were truly good people. Roran had a friendly, almost peer-like relationship with her father, and her mother was a wonderful woman. Since Roran had never known his own mother, he didn't have a reference for how a mother should be, but if he had to imagine, it would be someone exactly like Lucia's mother. 

Lucia, however, had definitely taken after her father. While she bore a strong resemblance to her mother in appearance, her personality and mannerisms felt like a feminine version of her father. One thing was certain—they had raised an exceptional daughter. 

Lost in these thoughts, Roran and Lucia arrived in the kitchen. Roran glanced around and, noticing that Lucia's parents weren't there, said: 

"Barty Uncle and Aunt Layla aren't here?" 

"My mom and dad went somewhere today. They said they had a very important guest arriving." 

"Important… I see. So, what are we doing now?" 

"Today, we're having meat in the house, so I want to make something like a stew. Can you cut those tomatoes for me?" 

Roran gladly agreed to the request and placed the tomato on the cutting board. However, instead of slicing, the tomato squished under the blade. Confused, Roran wondered if the knife was dull. Testing it with his finger, he accidentally cut himself. Noticing this, Lucia quickly came over, gently taking his hand in hers, and said: 

"You really are only good at things that require brute strength, aren't you?" 

Embarrassed, Roran replied: 

"Yeah, I guess so. And this knife... it's one my dad made. How could I even think it wasn't sharp?" 

Looking down at his hands, Roran continued: 

"These hands… they're only good for fighting and strenght cores. Unlike yours, they're useless for anything else. I'm just a clumsy fool." 

Lucia gazed directly into Roran's eyes and said softly: 

"You're exactly the kind of fool I'd wish for." 

Then, with a playful demeanor, Lucia took Roran's slightly bleeding finger into her mouth and began teasing it with her tongue. Roran, thoroughly embarrassed, quickly pulled his finger back while Lucia, clearly pleased with her antics, chuckled softly. 

Roran held onto his finger tightly, staring at Lucia in shock. After a moment, they returned to the task at hand. Lucia focused on cooking, while Roran watched her with a smile, clearly enjoying the scene. 

After some time, the food was ready. Lucia turned to Roran and said: 

"This important guest might visit our house too, so wear something proper, darling," Lucia said with a calm yet serious tone. 

Roran, slightly startled, asked: 

 "Who exactly are these guests? Do I know them?" 

Lucia tilted her head slightly downward and replied: 

"Actually, yes. Dukhe… and his family might come to our house." 

Upon hearing this, Roran clenched his fist so tightly that a few drops of blood dripped from his already cut finger, he asked through gritted teeth: 

 "This Dukhe… who is he exactly?" 

Lucia quietly responded: 

"Dukhe's father is actually a count in a small city within the kingdom. I don't know how we're connected, but they've always visited our house since I was little." 

Hearing this, Roran felt resigned. He changed into something more suitable and waited, not knowing what else to do. 

After a while, the doorbell rang. Standing at the entrance were Lucia's parents, accompanied by a deeply unhappy-looking woman draped in gold, with straight hair, tall stature, and a face caked in makeup. Beside her stood a shorter, rotund man with a monocle over one eye, a long top hat, a bald head, and a waxed, curling mustache. And, of course, there was Dukhe…