CHAPTER 132: ERIANLIA, THE ELDER BROTHER OF CECELIA.

Her steps slowed near a flower stand, where bunches of violets and yellow sunbursts were tied neatly with ribbon.

"I don’t usually get to walk like this," she said at last, her tone carrying both wonder and faint disbelief. She didn’t look at him as she spoke, her eyes still on the flowers.

"And this is only the second time I’ve gone out with you. When I’m in the city, it’s always with an escort. We don’t stop at stalls. There’s always a carriage waiting."

Kael glanced at her sidelong, a small quirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Guess it’s different when you’re... well, you."

Cecelia’s lips curved into a soft laugh, warm enough to brush the edge off the bustling air around them.

"That’s one way to put it. The Lia family name tends to attract attention—good and bad. I think my brother would faint if he knew I was just strolling down the street without guards."

Kael shifted his gaze to the street ahead, watching a wagon piled high with sacks of grain trundle past.

"Sounds like he’s protective."

"Protective is a polite word for it," Cecelia said dryly, though there was a flicker of fondness beneath the teasing bite.

"Arrogant is closer." She rolled her eyes slightly, the corners of her mouth twitching. "You’ll see what I mean if—"

They had just turned into a quieter side lane, where the noise of the busy city faded to soft echoes.

The street was narrow and shaded by tall, leaning buildings, their walls rough and worn with age.

There, near the base of an old iron lamppost, crouched a small boy no older than seven.

His clothes were threadbare — the sleeves of his shirt were tattered, and the knees of his trousers were dark with dirt.

His shoes, if they could be called that, were scuffed and too large, slipping loosely on his feet.

In front of him sat a battered tin cup, dented and scratched from many days on the street. Inside, only a handful of copper coins clinked quietly.

Cecelia slowed her steps as her eyes softened at the sight. She knelt down beside the boy without hesitation, her hand reaching inside the folds of her lavender cloak.

Kael followed her gaze. The boy’s face was pale and streaked with grime, and his eyes, though wide and tired, held a flicker of hope. When he saw Cecelia and Kael, he gave a small, nervous smile.

Without a word, Cecelia pulled out a small pouch and dropped several gold coins into the tin cup.

The sharp clink of metal on metal echoed in the stillness of the lane.

The boy’s eyes widened and sparkled with surprise and gratitude.

"Thank you, miss!" His voice cracked slightly, rough from disuse.

"You’re welcome," Cecelia said softly. She smiled gently. "What’s your name?"

"Rin," the boy answered shyly, glancing down at his dirt-smudged hands.

"That’s a nice name, Rin. Are you all alone here?"

The boy nodded slowly, biting his lip. "My ma’s sick. I’m trying to get money for medicine."

Kael crouched down beside Cecelia, his voice gentle but curious. "What kind of medicine?"

Rin hesitated, looking as if he wanted to explain —

A heavy shadow suddenly fell over the quiet street, as if a cloud had blocked out the sun, chilling the air around them.

"Step away from my sister."

Kael’s body tensed instantly. He turned sharply to see who had spoken, and there, standing tall and commanding, was a young man whose presence cut through the calm like a sharp blade.

He wore a deep crimson coat, edged with gleaming gold trim, the collar standing stiff and high around his neck, giving him a proud, almost regal bearing.

His pale wheat-colored hair—matching Cecelia’s—was slicked back with precision, revealing a face that was both handsome and harsh.

His eyes, cold and unforgiving steel gray, scanned the scene with sharp judgment.

Cecelia’s breath caught in her throat, her feet frozen in place. "...Erianlia," she whispered, dread tightening her voice.

Her elder brother.

Erianlia’s gaze dropped with clear disdain to the small boy crouched near the lamppost. His lips curled into a cruel sneer.

"Filthy street rat," he muttered bitterly, the words dripping with disgust.

Before anyone could react, Erianlia’s boot whipped forward with sudden violence. It struck Rin sharply in the ribs, forcing the boy to crumple onto the uneven cobblestones.

The tin cup beside him clattered loudly, spilling its scant contents—copper coins—scattering across the street like forgotten hopes.

Without hesitation, Erianlia delivered a second, harder kick. The sound of his boot connecting with the boy’s side echoed harshly in the silence that followed.

Cecelia gasped, shock and anger flooding her voice.

"Erian! What are you doing?!" she shouted, stepping forward quickly to kneel beside the fallen child.

"He was too close to you," Erianlia said flatly, his eyes cold and unblinking. "You don’t know what kinds of diseases creatures like that carry. They’re a danger."

"That’s no excuse for hurting a child!" Cecelia snapped back, her hands gently steadying Rin as he whimpered softly, pain flickering across his young face. He nodded weakly when Kael knelt beside him and asked if he was badly hurt.

Erianlia’s gaze finally shifted, turning from the boy to Kael with a slow, dangerous intensity.

His jaw clenched tightly, muscles tightening beneath his skin. "And who," he said in a low, measured tone that carried a clear warning, "is this?"

The tension in the air thickened like a gathering storm. Every word Erianlia spoke was heavy with threat, as if daring Kael to answer and prove himself worthy—or face the consequences.

The quiet lane felt smaller now, as if it held its breath, waiting for the next move.

Kael met Erian’s cold gaze steadily, showing no sign of fear or hesitation. His voice was calm and clear.

"Kael Ashford. I’m a student at the academy."

Erian took a step closer, his tall figure casting a long shadow that loomed over Kael like a dark cloud. His lips curled into a faint, mocking smirk, but there was no warmth in his eyes—only something hard and sharp.

"I’ve heard about you," Erian said slowly, his tone dripping with disdain. "The stray dog they let

on some special recommendation. No family, no name that matters."