"Among the many great families across the nation, the Bastians had earned the title 'the Sheep' for their leniency when dealing with the public."
Astara continued, "Once the safety of the citizens is at stake, they'll take an interest. Helping the people elevates their image. So whatever you do, make sure it's something that will enhance their reputation—not just in Honor City, but across the other three cities as well."
The hours had crept into the dead of night. While Zira slept soundly, Daylan and the others quietly discussed how they would deliver her to the Bastian family.
Coming up with a deed grand enough to elevate the Bastians' name across all the cities wasn't something any of them could easily manage. In fact, Daylan had never even been to the other cities, so figuring out what might capture their interest was a challenge in itself.
Daylan leaned onto the sofa. "Has anything like that happened before?"
"You don't need every citizen to recognize them. Just promise to do something in their name—and get my parents to announce their good deed publicly at the Royal Capital."
"Good deed, huh?"
Medora rose to her feet and stretched with a tired sigh. "I think you should just go with a straightforward proposal. Ask what you can do to help, set a time limit for yourself, and get it done… I need to sleep."
That wasn't a bad idea either. They wouldn't lay a finger on Daylan, no matter how ridiculous his proposal might seem—and if he wasn't interrupted, he could at least use Spiral Mind on them.
As Daylan mulled over Medora's words, Astara rose to her feet and quietly excused herself to her room.
Daylan lay back on the sofa for a moment, calming his nerves as he stared up at the ceiling. He had to follow Medora's suggestion—there was at least a chance it could lead to something good.
I killed their son, and now I need their help… What a life I am living!
Early to bed and early to rise makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise. Daylan didn't want to stay awake any longer—he had to sleep.
He dragged his feet as he strolled to his room, absentmindedly rubbing his orb, which felt unusually soothing tonight. But his focus wasn't on that. His mind wandered through words of encouragement, urging himself not to mess things up.
He hurled himself onto the bed, and sleep stole him before he knew it. No stress—it happened in barely a minute.
Before long, the sun was peeking over the horizon. Daylan was already awake, standing beside Astara in the kitchen as they prepared breakfast, while Zira sat nearby, watching Medora train.
"Should I go with you?" Medora asked, barely glancing at Daylan.
"Weren't you supposed to have some girls' time with Zira?"
"Yeah, but going without you would probably raise a lot of questions in the kid's mind. I mean, why go on a mission alone if you're supposed to be serving me?"
What does this girl mean? It's quite obvious, I'd say you sent me… maybe she just wants to go with me.
"Let's go together, then. I'll ask Zira if we can go shopping tomorrow."
Astara gave a gentle nod.
Daylan left the kitchen at once and headed to the training room, settling on the floor beside Zira. Her eyes sparkled as she watched Medora train, and Daylan smirked, quietly observing her excitement.
Zira turned to him. "When will you be training me, big brother? I want to be stronger and become a divine arch."
"Really? Don't worry, you will become a divine arch." Daylan ruffled her hair while she grinned.
"I'm going somewhere with the princess today—I have to help her with something. Can you stay with Dora for me? I promise we'll tour the city together tomorrow."
Zira's expression darkened as she leaned toward Daylan and whispered, "Are you in love with Princess Asta? You can tell me—I won't tell Dora."
Daylan's face froze in shock. He hadn't expected such a question from Zira—and what troubled him most was how she had even come to that conclusion.
He smiled. "Why do you ask? By the way, the princess is a very troublesome person. I don't love her… it's just respect."
Zira gave him a lazy look. "Are you sure?"
Daylan nodded.
"Well, if you ever start falling for her, I'd better be the first to know."
Their voices barely rose above a whisper, their eyes locked on each other. Yet Daylan knew all too well that Astara could probably catch at least fragments of their conversation.
"Why are you thinking about love at this age?"
She sneered. "I'm not thinking about love; I am thinking about you." She slapped her forehead, and Daylan smiled.
Their conversation carried on, light and playful, as they teased each other and laughed. For a moment, Zira seemed more mature than usual, making Daylan reconsider—maybe he should let her handle things herself; it was her life, after all. But he quickly shook off the thought, reminding himself that Zira was still just a child.
As they chatted, Astara finished preparing breakfast. Medora immediately stopped training and rushed to her seat, her body drenched in sweat. Panting, she began stuffing her mouth with food.
In the brief moment Daylan had to speak with Medora, he filled her in on his discussion with Astara. She agreed to look after Zira without hesitation or protest—she was completely fine with it.
Before long, Daylan and Astara were ready to head to the Bastian family's estate. He still wasn't sure why Astara had chosen to accompany him, but using Spiral Mind to find out wasn't an option—he decided to respect her decision. More importantly, he was bracing himself for what lay ahead. How would the family receive him? Would his plan even work?
Regardless, he made an effort to engage in a conversation with Astara about what she expected the Bastians to ask of him. It wasn't so bad—the warmth in their conversation helped ease his mind, distracting him from his swirling thoughts.
Not long after, they arrived at the Bastian estate on the eastern side. Before them stood a white stucco façade, symmetrical in design, with a mansard roof and a private garden.
As they stood before the estate, Daylan realized he needed Astara more than he had anticipated. The Bastians' personal guards began approaching, shouting at them to leave the premises as they angrily marched over.
Daylan glanced at them in disbelief. Why must they all close in on her to realize she's the princess? He wondered.
To Daylan's surprise, even after the guards closed in, they had no idea Astara was the princess. She had to tell them herself—and even then, they refused to believe her.
The situation was being handled calmly with words until one of the guards, frustrated by Astara's supposed lie, shoved her by the shoulder. The act stung Medora's pride.
Before Daylan knew it, he had twisted the guard's arm and heard a sickening crack. The guard screamed in agony, and Daylan stood there, his eyes wide in shock.
"Do not touch me." She said it calmly yet fearsomely.
The guard's screams echoed, drawing the attention of more guards who rushed over.
But before they could reach him, Daylan knocked out the other guard with a swift blow.
Within moments, a dozen guards surrounded them, weapons drawn and ready to strike.
Astara stood still, calm, while Daylan raised his guard. He knew their actions could jeopardize any chance of a relationship with the Bastians, but he had no choice.
Before anything could unfold, an old man with white hair and a beard appeared at the entrance. Dressed in white medieval attire, his face was crumpled with age, yet he exuded an energy far beyond what one would expect from someone of his years. His presence was radiating an enormous aura.
He cleared his throat, and the guards turned to him, as did Astara and Daylan. "Did you people just touch the princess?" He shook his head. "I am sorry, Princess Astara; come with me."
Daylan and Astara exchanged glances.
Daylan hadn't seen this man before—he wasn't one of those who had come to the monastery. Judging by Astara's expression, it was clear she was seeing him for the first time as well.
The guards bowed to Astara and apologized for their behavior, but Daylan barely took notice. He swallowed nervously, his body trembling from within. It wasn't just the fear of being dismissed by the family—it was the realization that such powerful figures were part of the Bastian family. Being on their bad side was never a good idea.
Astara followed the old man, and with no other choice, Daylan reluctantly followed suit.
"I am Ael Bastian, my lady. What brought you and your companion here this morning?"
Daylan shielded his eyes as they entered.
Everything inside was white, creating an overwhelming reflection of light. The hall was massive, with two grand staircases leading upstairs. It was large enough to host a festival.
Upon Ael's question, Astara turned to Daylan, expecting him to carry the conversation. Daylan shook his head and braced himself, but before he could utter a word, Ael spoke.
"The gentleman with you is Daylan, right? The son of Gerald Rhys." He gestured at their seats.
"You know my father?" Daylan asked, frozen in place as he met Ael's mocking gaze.