"Elarisse's house?" he muttered softly, his eyebrows raised slightly. The writing was not very flashy, just a small print next to the designer's signature. But it was enough to attract his attention.
His hand gripped the catalog paper a little tighter. The name... He remembered now. House Elarisse was mentioned in the game several times; it was quite a famous shop located in the capital. They were also the ones who designed the inauguration outfit for Cedric in his game.
The place was quite famous in the capital. Why... and also, why was he able to arrive at the Witte residence so quickly? The distance between the capital and the Witte region, as far as Lucian could remember, was quite far.
"Is there a catalog that doesn't suit your taste, Young Master?" Arden the designer asked, cautiously observing Lucian's expression.
"No," Lucian replied in a flat but firm voice.
"Honestly, all the clothes in this catalog are pretty good." He lowered the paper slowly. His legs crossed and a smirk appeared on his face. "I'll order all of them."
The atmosphere instantly fell silent. Ivan, standing in the corner of the room, almost choked in surprise, while Arden stood frozen with widened eyes.
"I didn't hear wrong, did I, Young Master?" asked Arden again, his voice a little shaky, still trying to confirm the reality he had just heard.
"Why? Shouldn't I buy them all?" Lucian responded casually. He raised his eyebrows, looking at Arden with a slightly sharp gaze.
"Ahahaha, of course not! This is a matter of pride for us, Young Master!" Arden laughed awkwardly as he wiped the sweat from his temples. "However, not all of the clothes in the catalog have been produced. Some are still in the process of design and refinement."
"No problem," Lucian replied with a small nod, crossing his legs relaxed. "I'll wait for them."
"Alright, it is a pleasure to transact with you, Young Master." Arden bowed slightly, his expression a mix of happiness and nervousness. "I will immediately send the invoice and order notes to Witte's residence for final confirmation."
Arden busied himself writing quickly in his notebook, crossing out some of the approved designs and marking others with specific symbols. Lucian, sitting cross-legged, just watched him with a calm expression. His elbows rested on the back of the chair, and his chin rested casually on his palm.
"By the way," Lucian said, his tone flat but hinting at curiosity, "House Elarisse is in the capital, isn't it?"
"That's right, Young Master," replied Ivan, who was standing a short distance away with a formal demeanor.
Lucian turned his head slowly, shifting his gaze to Ivan who had somehow suddenly appeared behind him.
"Why did they arrive so quickly? Didn't I tell you to call him about an hour ago?"
Ivan closed his eyes, holding his chin with his thumb and index finger, indicating that he was thinking.
"Actually, when I contacted him, Mr. Arden happened to be delivering an order to one of the noble clients in the southern district of the Witte region. And it just so happened that he was staying at an inn not far from here, so he rushed straight here without going back to the boutique," Ivan explained.
After finishing his notes, Arden closed his book and raised his head to look at Lucian with a smile. "That's right, Young Master. Receiving a call from the Witte family is a matter I could never put off."
Lucian continued to look at Arden with a neutral expression, then he snorted softly and replied, "Heh... Is that so?"
Arden only replied with a polite nod before starting to pack his belongings—catalog papers, measuring instruments, and notebooks filled with design doodles and additional notes. He checked everything once more to ensure nothing was left behind.
"Then I must take my leave, Young Master," Arden said as he bowed lightly and respectfully. "Once again, House Elarisse is honored to have done business with the Witte family."
He slowly turned around and walked out of the room, the door closing softly behind him. A brief silence enveloped the room after the designer's departure, leaving only Lucian and Ivan.
Lucian leaned back into the chair with a lazy expression. He lifted his hand and rubbed his temples for a moment, as if trying to digest everything that had happened this morning.
"Ivan," he called without turning his head.
"Yes, Young Master?" replied Ivan in his usual calm voice.
"I guess I need to get out now," Lucian muttered in a low but firm tone, lowering his hand from his temples and staring blankly at the ceiling.
Ivan turned his head slightly, looking hesitant. "Do you wish to go outside the mansion, Young Master?" he asked cautiously.
"I want to, but I suppose for now I'll just walk around inside this mansion," Lucian replied, shrugging his shoulders slightly as if freeing himself from an invisible burden.
Ivan bowed respectfully. "Very well, Young Master. Would you like me to accompany you?"
Lucian glanced at him for a moment before walking towards the door. "No need. If I get lost in my own house, it will only become a new laughing stock, won't it?"
A faint smile touched the corner of his lips, but his eyes remained calm. Although Ivan wanted to smile as well, he only bowed deeper. "Understood, Young Master."
Then, Lucian got up from his seat and walked slowly towards the door. He opened it and stepped out. Ivan suddenly remembered something and hurriedly called out, "Young Master, you forgot the mask—..."
But it was too late. Lucian's footsteps moved steadily away. Ivan could only let out a long sigh.
He then intended to retrieve the tea tray and biscuits he had brought earlier, but his steps stopped when he noticed something.
His eyes blinked a few times as if to confirm what he was seeing. Normally, Lucian would only drink half of the tea, but right now the cup was completely empty. Likewise, the biscuits on the plate were all gone.
"Young Master...!" he smiled faintly, his eyes slightly teary. "Usually you only take a sip and don't touch the snacks, but this time you finished everything." He murmured with a voice full of pride.
"I am truly proud of you."
When Lucian stepped out of the room, his eyes observed every detail in the mansion corridors, as if searching for clues. Memories of the original Lucian emerged in fragments, like unstructured pieces of a puzzle.
"This is strange..." Lucian muttered softly, pausing in the middle of the corridor.
He looked back at the door of his room, then surveyed the hallway around him. One thing that began to bother him was the stark contrast.
The room he was in... was too simple. Even by the standards of lower-class nobility, the room was too quiet, too ordinary. There were no gold engravings on the furniture, no fancy carpets, and the lighting was even inferior to the living room where second-class guests were welcomed.
And most strikingly, the room was located on the upper floor, an area usually reserved for servants or housekeepers.
Lucian's forehead creased slightly, and he raised his eyebrows.
"Why was Lucian placed in such a place?" He asked himself silently, trying to connect every piece of information he had. Curiosity and a hint of disbelief began to gnaw at his mind.
He continued walking, heading towards the main hallway near the grand staircase.
In the corridor, two maids were seen whispering behind a corner, watching Lucian as he walked past. One of them looked nervous, glancing at him occasionally.
"That's Young Master Lucian, right? It's such a shame he didn't wear that mask," whispered the first maid, her voice trembling slightly. "I heard the Great Master hates seeing it so much."
"Hush, don't talk too much," warned the second maid, looking around sharply. "You know the consequences if the Grand Master finds out we are talking about this. He despises Young Master Lucian's face so much."
"It's better to pretend we didn't see anything. Let's just act as if he doesn't exist. Let's get back to work before he realizes we were gossiping."
The two maids moved away from the window, leaving Lucian walking further down the hall, enveloped in silence.
Lucian stopped at the end of the corridor, taking a deep breath. He had heard every word, and they pierced his heart like daggers. He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms.
"I heard it all," he murmured, his voice barely audible, sounding almost like a whisper of despair.
He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "Huh, just how bad can his face be? Why does Lucian hide it so much?" He asked himself.
He then reached the top of the stairs and began to descend the large, U-shaped circular staircase. Hanging in the center of the stairwell was a large portrait of a woman with long, reddish hair tied back with a light blue ribbon. She had captivating emerald eyes, and she wore an elegant sleeveless white dress.
Lucian stopped in front of the painting, his gaze fixed intently on the woman's eyes. He felt a strange connection, as if the woman in the portrait knew him personally.
"Who is she...?" he whispered, his voice filled with mystery and longing. A deep sense of sadness washed over him, as if he had lost something incredibly precious.
Lucian remained standing there, lost in thought while staring at the painting. Suddenly, the sound of slow footsteps echoed from above. A man appeared at the top of the stairs, his silhouette faint in the dim light.
He had jet-black hair and wore an expensive-looking dark suit, but a cold and threatening aura emanated from him. His steps were calm, yet each one felt heavy and imposing.
"Tch, why do I have to run into that loser now," he murmured, his voice hoarse and cold, like the scraping of sharp stones. He stopped a few steps above Lucian, looking down at him with eyes filled with utter contempt.