The colors were far too dark and muted, contributing to an atmosphere much more somber than what would have been appropriate. The brushwork was sharp and well-defined, with no trace of hesitation. Bold yet delicate strokes. All of this made the painting utterly captivating. Beautiful, without a doubt, but above all, captivating. That was the right word to describe it. Somehow, despite its eerie and unsettling ambiance and the apparent simplicity of its subject, the observer’s eyes were inevitably drawn to it. As if it held some enigmatic and inexplicable power to attract gazes. 

A large horizontal painting, framed in intricately carved dark wood with silver accents, depicting an aristocratic family. A father, mother, and two sons, likely close in age. Perhaps the elder was around ten years old, with the younger about three or four years behind. All dressed in fine, expensive clothing, adorned with lace. Surrounded by patches of color from what was likely a blooming garden, though nothing overly ostentatious. The mother sat, the father stood behind her, and the two children flanked them, both standing. Their expressions were serious, almost detached. As if posing for the portrait had required a monumental effort. 

As he observed the scene, Tiresio couldn't help but notice a certain resemblance between the older boy and Lord Lucas Ravast. It was only natural for him, at that point, to wonder who the other three were. Or rather, where they were now. Because if the painting truly depicted the noble Ravast family, as he suspected, there wasn’t much doubt about their identities. 

His eyes wandered to the other paintings on the wall in front of him, though none drew his attention in quite the same way. A still life, a couple of old portraits of smiling ladies, a rural landscape, and a hunting scene with stiff-looking noblemen on horseback. He grimaced in disappointment as his gaze returned to the family portrait. He gently swirled the wine glass in his hand before taking a sip. The delicate aroma and sweet taste of the red wine coated his throat with a pleasure comparable to the comforting warmth of the fireplace before him, its flames flickering at the base of the opposite wall. 

"Just what I needed", he thought to himself, a faint smile forming on his lips as he welcomed Gwen’s presence beside him. The young woman, mirroring his smile, gracefully tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. 

"They seem very much in love, don’t they?", she asked, casting a quick glance over her shoulder before fixing her gaze on the pleasant flames dancing before her. 

Tiresio turned, focusing on the subject of his companion’s attention as he took another sip. A short distance away, at the center of the elegant and lavishly decorated lounge, Lucas Ravast and his beloved, Anastasia Onvald, sat together on a plush sofa, wrapped in each other's embrace, holding hands like young lovers experiencing their first romance, while engaging in friendly conversation with Goldrick and Lucien. 

The young woman was undeniably beautiful, with a kind of beauty rarely granted by nature. Tall and slender, with long, slightly wavy chestnut hair, strikingly large blue eyes, and delicate yet sensual features. Beyond her appearance, however, it was her innate elegance that stood out, along with the soft, melodious tone of her voice. 

Tiresio observed her closely, noting how she gazed at her beloved with dreamy, affectionate eyes. Despite Lord Ravast's attempts to maintain a composed demeanor in public, it was clear that the two were deeply in love. The way they held each other, their fingers entwined, left no doubt. And, not insignificantly, there had been Anastasia’s reaction upon learning of the failed brigand attack on Lucas’s carriage. She had literally thrown herself at him, checking frantically for injuries, trembling with fear at the thought of losing him. Since then, even after being reassured of his well-being, she had scarcely left his side, repeatedly and fervently thanking the group of strangers who had saved her beloved fiancé. 

"So it seems…", Tiresio replied, still lost in thought about everything that had happened. And about what he was witnessing now. A sight that struck him deeply. 

He thought he heard Gwen speaking to him again, but he was too caught up in his own thoughts to pay attention. And his emotions. One in particular. 

Envy. 

A flood of memories—both sweet and painful—began swirling in his mind. So vivid they sent a shiver down his spine. The warm and gentle touch of a hand. ‘Her’ hand. How much he would have given to feel it again. A sad, bitter smile curled his lips before he took another sip from the glass in his fingers. 

Perhaps Gwen noticed. Perhaps she also noticed his distraction. Perhaps she was even about to ask what was wrong, but Lord Ravast spoke first. 

"Ladies and gentlemen," the nobleman began, clearing his throat, "I would like to thank you once again, now also in the presence of my beloved, for coming to my aid. Your intervention was crucial. For this reason, aside from, of course, my already guaranteed hospitality at the inn, I would like to further honor your deeds. During the journey here to my estate, I had ample time to reflect on it, and I believe it is the right choice. You see, in two days, Anastasia and I will be getting married. Everything is already prepared, and we can hardly wait to officially begin our journey together in this life. We would love for you to attend the ceremony as our guests”. 

As he spoke, the lord glanced at his fiancée, who looked slightly taken aback by his words. 

"Moreover," he continued, "it is tradition in our village to hold a dinner the evening before the wedding. The so-called Children’s Feast, which the bride and groom celebrate separately with their closest friends and the most important people in their lives. A sort of final celebratory supper before the transition to adulthood, marked by marriage. An old Ravast custom. Considering that you saved my life and that, without you, I likely wouldn’t be here today, I believe you have more than earned the right to partake in this event as well. I would be honored by your presence. Of course, you are under no obligation to accept—I know you have expressed your intention to depart tomorrow morning. But I must insist, nonetheless. It would mean a great deal to me if you stayed". He concluded, looking at each of his guests expectantly. 

"We would be delighted to have you join us for the dinner, the ceremony, and the festivities", Anastasia added, smiling warmly as she gently clasped her fiancé’s hand in hers. 

The young woman seemed to have immediately embraced Lucas’s idea, supporting it without hesitation after her initial surprise. 

Tiresio studied his companions carefully, trying to gauge their thoughts. The invitation was certainly tempting, and in the end, despite their desire to leave immediately, there was no real urgency to do so. They could afford to take a couple of days. To rest, after everything they had been through. 

The exchanged glances were more than eloquent as Tiresio received his implicit answer. The final nod of approval from Gwen sealed their decision. 

"We accept your invitation, Lord Ravast", Lucien declared, bowing his head slightly in reverence. 

"With great pleasure", Gwen added with a smile. 

"Excellent", the nobleman replied, his expression satisfied. "I am delighted. You will see, it will be…". 

His words, however, caught in his throat as a faint creaking sound filled the air, distracting everyone in the room. Instinctively, they all turned toward the source of the noise. 

And when they did, they saw a figure entering the room through the stone archway that separated it from the adjacent corridor. 

A man, perhaps a few years younger than Lucas and bearing a striking resemblance to him, wheeled himself into the lounge in a wooden and metal wheelchair, pushed by the Ravast family's elderly butler. Short dark hair, light green eyes, a faint beard, and a finely tailored gray suit with intricate embroidery and a wide green lapel. 

Lucas immediately rose from the sofa, stepping toward him with a broad smile. 

"There you are, Simon! Finally!", he greeted warmly with a joking hint of criticism, placing an affectionate hand on his shoulder. 

Tiresio watched the scene with keen interest and curiosity, surprised by the revelation of the man's identity. 

"As always, my brother," Simon replied with a subtle, playful smile, "you never wait for me to discuss the important matters…".