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The Kiramman Family is one of the founding pillars of Piltover. As the city's original architects, they have held an unbroken seat on the Council of Seven since its inception. In this matriarchal lineage, Caitlyn is the presumed heir to her mother's seat—a fate she seems to regard with a quiet, rebellious trepidation that she hasn't yet dared to voice.
"Don't be nervous," Caitlyn whispered as they approached the grand manor doors. "Mother isn't a monster; just answer her truthfully."
She needn't have worried. Kael wasn't trembling; he was calmly critiquing the estate's topiary. His lack of reverence was a breath of fresh air to Caitlyn, who lived in a world where "racial" and class segregation usually made people treat her like a fragile glass sculpture.
"Don't worry, Miss Caitlyn," Kael said, pausing on the stairs. He turned back with a charming tilt of his head. "And if I may—that dress is quite stunning on you today."
"Precocious fellow," Caitlyn muttered, wrinkling her nose to hide a secret spark of joy. Even if he was a couple of years younger, the boy clearly had excellent taste.
Madame Kiramman sat in her study, surrounded by a mountain of ledgers and documents. She looked every bit the high-level Councilor—elegant, sharp, and slightly weary. The paperwork had piled up because she had spent the previous night obsessively dismantling the Rubik's Cube.
"Come in. May I call you kael?" she asked, her gaze softening as she looked at Kael. He was, in the parlance of her generation, "adorable"—a quality that usually opened doors with maternal figures.
"Actually, Madame Kiramman, for a man, 'adorable' is a bit of a setback," Kael replied with a straight face, defending his dignity.
The Councilor laughed. "My apologies, little man."
She gestured to the pile of tiny gears and plastic blocks on her desk—the remains of the cube. "I found the internal mechanics fascinating, though I must admit, I couldn't put it back together."
Without a word, Kael reached out. In less than ten seconds, his fingers moved with a blur of mechanical precision. The "Orianna Cube" was whole again. He didn't just reassemble it; he began explaining the abstract mathematical group theories and gear-mesh ratios behind its design.
Madame Kiramman, a woman who lived by the logic of numbers, found herself increasingly bewildered. Kael's explanation was so profound that she actually began to doubt her own mathematical talent.
"Alright, alright, Kael! Save the lectures for Caitlyn," she interrupted, smiling. She was convinced. Kael wasn't just a toy-maker; he was a mechanical prodigy.
The sponsorship deal was struck quickly. Madame Kiramman didn't care about the profit from the cube; she wanted to bind Kael to the Kiramman name.
Monthly Stipend: A fixed amount of gold coins to support his living and research.
Patent Fees: A generous upfront payment plus a significant percentage of all future sales.
Education: Madame Kiramman would arrange for Jayce Talis to tutor Kael for the Academy entrance exam.
"If only Caitlyn were as sensible as you," the Councilor sighed, patting Kael's head.
"I'll have Caitlyn show you the grounds. Try to find some common ground; you are close in age," she added.
The moment they left the study, Caitlyn's "noble lady" mask shattered. She immediately reached out and pinched Kael's cheek. "I've wanted to do that all day. Your face is like a collagen stress-ball."
"Madame Kiramman..." Kael said, looking past her.
"Mother! I didn't do anything!" Caitlyn snapped into a perfect standing posture, her voice trembling.
Kael smirked. "Relax, Caitlyn. I was just seeing things. She's still in the study."
"You little—!"
A game of tag erupted across the Kiramman gardens. Caitlyn, trained in swordsmanship and athletic coordination, found herself unable to even touch Kael's sleeve. He dodged every lunge by a hair's breadth, eventually flicking her forehead and leaving a small red mark.
"If you're going to cry, I can lend you a shoulder," Kael teased.
"You're dead!" Caitlyn lunged again, finally managing to pin his shoulder by feigning a "Mother's coming" distraction of her own. She was rubbing his face triumphantly when the actual voice of Madame Kiramman echoed from the balcony.
"Caitlyn, what in the world are you doing?"
Caitlyn froze. Kael offered an innocent shrug. "I did try to warn you."
After a formal lunch, Kael returned to the shop, where Orianna pounced on him like a koala. She had refused to eat lunch until her "Brother" was back.
"I want Brother to feed me," she pouted.
"You're a big girl now, Anna," Kael laughed.
"When I'm a Councilor, I'll make a law that big girls can still be fed," she declared.
Later, Caitlyn took Kael to the Academy district to meet Jayce. Jayce lived in an elite student apartment, his room a disaster of blueprints and half-finished inventions.
"I've never been a teacher," Jayce said shyly, scratching his head. "I don't know if I'm qualified."
"Treat me as a peer," Kael said, looking at a calculation on Jayce's desk. "Though, your flux-coefficient formula is wrong here."
Kael picked up a pen and corrected the math. Jayce leaned in, his eyes widening as he realized the boy was right.
Caitlyn watched in silence. The "Top Student" aura between the two was so thick she felt like she was back in a remedial etiquette class.
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