A sharp meow right in her face broke through the cozy fog of Luna's sleep.
"Milo, ten more minutes," Luna mumbled, pulling the blanket over her head. But Milo, relentless as ever, pawed at her cheek with precision born of years of routine. Luna groaned.
Just then, her new phone—sleek, polished, and far too advanced for her sleepy brain—burst into life with the cheery chorus of her favorite song.
Her eyes snapped open. That ringtone was customized. Only one person had the audacity to call this early and set her favorite song as their contact tone.
"Kana," she croaked, scrambling to untangle herself from the sheets. Milo bounced off the bed in a huff. Luna finally grabbed the phone, blinking at the brightness of the screen before answering.
"Hello…?"
"You finally answered!" Kana's voice buzzed with excitement and nerves. "Luna, I swear to all that is holy—this car? Freaking amazing! Heads turned when I pulled up to the photo shoot today. The interior smells like money. The dashboard talks. It's smarter than half the people on set!"
Luna sat up groggily, trying to focus. "Wait—photo shoot? Kana, why are you up so early?"
Silence.
"…Luna. It's one in the afternoon."
Luna froze. "No. No way."
Kana exhaled like a mother ready to scold a rebellious teenager. "Yes. Way. You absolute gremlin. Just because you're rich now doesn't mean you can slack off and sleep like a log."
"I'm not rich," Luna muttered, rolling off the bed and landing in a pile of blankets and cat toys. "It's just… my dad being extra loaded."
Milo padded up and stared at her pointedly.
Kana continued without mercy. "I get it, okay? Sudden money, sudden mansion, sudden billionaire dinners. But don't you dare turn into one of those heiresses. I will throw that car back at your dad."
"You wouldn't," Luna yawned, already heading to the bathroom with the phone cradled between shoulder and ear.
"I will if you start sleeping till two and forget the humble roots of convenience store curry and instant ramen."
"Fine, fine. I'm awake now, see?" Luna turned the sink on for emphasis. "Ugh, one p.m.? Seriously?"
Kana snorted. "Get dressed, hydrate, and take your cat for a walk or something. You've got a life to live, Miss Heiress."
Luna chuckled, rubbing her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. I'll be normal again soon."
"Better. I want the old Luna back for karaoke tomorrow."
"You got it," Luna smiled, then paused. "And Kana?"
"Hmm?"
"I'm really glad you liked the car."
There was a beat of sincerity in Kana's voice. "Yeah. Thanks, Lu. Seriously."
As the call ended, Luna looked at her reflection in the mirror—messy hair, pillow lines on her face, and a sleepy but genuine smile tugging at her lips.
"Milo," she said, reaching down to pet the fluffy grump, "your mom is gonna try and be productive today. No promises, though."
Milo meowed in skeptical approval.
Still rubbing the last traces of sleep from her eyes, Luna padded out of her room in comfy lounge clothes, Milo trailing behind like a pint-sized shadow.
"Excuse me," she called out softly when she spotted one of the maids dusting a hallway table.
The maid turned immediately, offering a respectful bow. "Yes, Miss Luna?"
"Um…" Luna hesitated, then cleared her throat. "Does the manor have a library?"
The maid's face lit up, as if she'd been waiting for Luna to ask that very question. "Of course, Miss. Please follow me."
Before Luna could ask anything else, the maid was already leading her down one of the manor's many corridors. It was easy to get lost in the place, but the walk was smooth, turns clean and deliberate, and then—
The double doors loomed before her. Dark, polished wood with gilded handles. The maid pushed them open with practiced ease.
Luna gasped.
The library was vast—four stories tall, the ceiling so high it seemed to disappear into a mural of constellations. A grand spiral staircase snaked its way up to the higher levels, each lined with balconies and thick mahogany bookshelves. Sunlight filtered through arched windows, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. It smelled like old paper and knowledge and dreams.
"This way, please," the maid said with a small smile, clearly enjoying Luna's reaction.
They passed towering bookshelves and reading nooks until they reached a side wall where a discreet door stood half-hidden in the woodwork. The maid opened it.
"Your private study room, Miss Luna."
Inside was a sleek, modern space—cozy yet equipped with the latest technology. A powerful PC sat on the custom oak desk, its monitor already glowing in standby mode. Shelves were stocked with reference books, sketchpads, tablets, and even a headset for virtual meetings or research. There was a plush armchair by a small fireplace, and a polished brass bell rested on the desk.
"If you need anything at all, simply ring this," the maid said. "Refreshments, technical assistance, book searches—we'll provide everything. This space is yours and yours alone."
Luna blinked, mouth agape. "I—this is for me?"
"Yes, Miss. Your father had it prepared the moment you moved in."
The maid gave a short bow and exited quietly, leaving Luna in the silence of her private literary sanctuary.
Luna slowly turned in place, taking in the space—then dashed out into the main library again like a child in a candy store. Her fingers skimmed along the spines of books, pausing when she recognized a title. "The Spook Chronicles."
Her heart gave a little jump. She pulled the book out, eyes wide. It was the third in a series she'd adored as a child but never finished. The local library had gone fully digital halfway through her reading, and they couldn't afford to buy the hardbound editions. Now here it was—crisp, hardbound, and beautifully preserved.
And not just that one. The whole series was here.
She laughed, hugging the book to her chest.
Back in the study room, she curled up in the armchair, book open, Milo curled at her feet. As she flipped through the pages she had once longed for, a quiet, indescribable warmth settled into her chest.
The soft chime of her favorite song echoed through the library's quiet halls.
Luna blinked, lifting her head from the worn pages of The Spook Chronicles. Her phone alarm blinked at her—two hours had flown by in what felt like minutes. She gently closed the book, holding it against her chest for a second before standing up and stretching.
Milo, now sprawled like a tiny prince beneath the reading chair, gave a grumpy little meow of protest as Luna stirred.
"Sorry, Milo," Luna chuckled, scooping her up. "But we can't stay holed up forever."
She walked to the ornate desk in her private study room and rang the small brass bell. A few moments later, the same maid from earlier arrived, as elegant and efficient as ever.
"Miss Luna?"
"Hi," Luna said, brushing hair from her face. "I was wondering… could Milo maybe roam the manor a bit? He's curious. Probably bored of me just sitting and reading."
The maid smiled warmly. "Of course. We've anticipated the possibility and have already assigned Miso an escort."
Luna blinked. "You assigned… what?"
At that cue, another staff member stepped in—a young man with soft features, dressed in a modified butler uniform with a small paw print badge on the lapel. He bowed respectfully.
"Miss Luna. I'll be Milo's guide and caretaker when she's out and about. We'll make sure she's safe, fed, and happily spoiled."
Luna laughed, unable to help herself. "You're kidding."
"We take the safety of all manor residents seriously," the maid added with a twinkle in her eye.
Milo meowed curiously and leapt into the new butler's arms as if to test the arrangement himself.
"Well… okay then. Enjoy your tour, fuzzball." She gave Milo a scratch behind the ear, then turned back to the study with a shake of her head and a grin tugging at her lips.
Once Milo and his escort left, Luna sat back at the sleek desk, finally turning her attention to the high-powered PC. The screen flickered to life, smooth and almost too responsive. The custom interface was minimalistic and efficient—fluid tabs, instant load times, and a personalized dashboard already synced to her preferences.
"Wow," she muttered. "This is next-level."
She could probably edit videos, run simulations, or even render entire VR spaces without a single hiccup.
But instead of diving into any heavy programs, Luna opened her browser and began to do what she always did when she had free access to information: she read.
Global news headlines flicked past her eyes—conflicts in disputed regions, shifting alliances, breakthroughs in agricultural tech. She dove into medical journals next, cross-referencing new advancements in nanomedicine and targeted drug delivery systems. Then it was economic analyses—trends in grassroots entrepreneurship in underdeveloped countries, tech start-up booms in unlikely places, shifts in labor models due to AI.
She skimmed papers on social structure recovery in post-crisis zones, behavioral economics, and even the sociology of urban isolation in hyper-connected cities.
She paused once or twice, leaning back with a furrowed brow, scribbling notes in the digital notepad on her desktop.
It was only when her stomach growled that she blinked out of her research daze and realized two more hours had passed.
A pang of guilt hit her chest.
All this amazing tech… and I'm just reading like I always do. Nothing productive. Just… learning things I don't even need.
She frowned at her reflection in the screen for a moment, then shut her eyes.
But after a moment, she smiled faintly to herself.
"No," she murmured, opening her eyes again. "Not wasted. Not if I can use this."
She clicked on a tab and bookmarked another batch of articles—this time, focusing on ethical tech deployment, decentralization models for healthcare, and educational outreach systems.
The knowledge was the seed. She just hadn't found the right soil yet.
Luna finally emerged from the grand library, rubbing her slightly strained eyes as she made her way toward the kitchen.
The halls of the manor were quiet, with only the gentle echo of her footsteps accompanying her.
She'd spent hours buried in old books and cutting-edge articles, and now her stomach was politely reminding her that it hadn't been fed since morning.
In the kitchen, a friendly staff member greeted her with a soft smile and promptly served her a light snack—warm buttered croissants with a small pot of strawberry jam, along with freshly brewed chamomile tea.
Luna thanked them and took her plate to the small sunlit nook near the window. She nibbled quietly, watching Milo through the glass as the fluffy cat strutted across the garden with his personal butler in tow, inspecting flower beds like a queen surveying her kingdom.
The sight made Luna chuckle softly to herself.
Just as she was finishing her snack and preparing to head back to her room to freshen up for dinner, her father appeared at the entrance of the kitchen lounge.
"Luna," Emmerich said, his voice gentle but carrying a weight she recognized immediately. "May I speak with you for a moment?"
She stood immediately, brushing her hands on a napkin. "Of course."
He approached and offered an apologetic smile. "I wanted to let you know… I won't be able to join you for dinner tonight. Something urgent has come up at the company. I need to personally oversee it."
Luna blinked in mild surprise, then offered a reassuring smile of her own. "Dad, it's okay. I'm not a kid—I'm already twenty-seven."
Emmerich gave a small, almost sheepish laugh. "I know. But I missed so many years, Luna. I suppose I'm still trying to make up for lost time. Maybe too much."
Luna reached out and gently squeezed his arm. "You don't have to make up for anything. I turned out fine. Maybe a little broke and perpetually sleep-deprived—but fine."
That earned a real chuckle from him.
"I mean it," she continued, softer now. "You don't need to worry so much. I'm happy being here. You've already done more than enough."
Emmerich looked at her for a moment, eyes a little glossy with unspoken emotions. He nodded slowly, clearly moved.
"Thank you, Luna."
She gave him a wink. "Now go save your empire or whatever rich powerful dads do when they get urgent calls."
He shook his head in amusement. "I'll make it up to you tomorrow."
As he turned and left the room, Luna watched him go, a small but genuine smile playing on her lips.
Her life had shifted so drastically in just a matter of weeks. But somehow, in these fleeting and quiet moments, she felt more grounded than she had in years.