Chapter 29: A House Reborn
Kitsaro Azreal Veyra
Morning light streamed through the high windows of the Veyra estate, painting the marble floors with soft gold. The once-quiet halls now echoed with the purposeful footsteps of servants and the low hum of voices carrying out duties. Kitsaro stirred from his sleep in his large, plush bed, the embroidered blankets tangled around his legs. He blinked drowsily at the ceiling, then turned his head to the side.
A servant was already standing just outside his open door, quietly awaiting a signal.
"Good morning, young master," the servant said as soon as he noticed Kitsaro shifting upright. "Would you like to be served breakfast now?"
Kitsaro rubbed his eyes and yawned. "Mmhmm. I'm starving."
The servant bowed. "Please follow me. The dining hall has been prepared."
Trailing behind the well-dressed man, Kitsaro padded barefoot across the soft carpets, his fluffy white hair still messy from sleep. As he turned a corner, he blinked in surprise. The hallway that had looked empty and abandoned just yesterday was now immaculate. The scent of fresh polish hung faintly in the air, and beautiful wall tapestries fluttered gently in the breeze of an open window.
He saw maids dusting high shelves, gardeners pruning the outer hedges through the windows, and guards in crisp uniforms patrolling quietly near the gates. The Veyra estate, once eerily quiet and dilapidated, now teemed with life.
By the time they reached the dining hall, Kitsaro's eyes were wide with wonder.
The long table had been polished to a gleam, and elegant silverware sat perfectly aligned on fresh silk runners. Sunlight spilled in from the arched windows, casting a warm glow over the food-laden table. Fresh bread, eggs in rich sauce, glistening fruit, and a steaming pot of some sort of creamy porridge filled the air with a mouthwatering aroma.
He took a seat, blinking again.
'The estate actually looks... like a noble's house now,' Kitsaro thought, swinging his legs under the table. 'It's only been a day, but everything feels different already.'
He bit into a buttery pastry and let out a little hum of delight. The food was leagues better than what he remembered eating before. Not that he ever had a bad meal—but now, there was care in the preparation. Like every little detail was meant to match some invisible standard of nobility.
But then a strange thought crept into his mind.
'Wait… if Mother and I severed our ties with House Vaelthyr… doesn't that mean we're not actually nobles anymore?'
He frowned slightly, chewing slowly.
Sylvara, as far as he remembered, had never been accepted by the Vaelthyr family. She wasn't just an outsider—she was a commoner of unknown origin, her bloodline unrecorded and unacknowledged. And Kitsaro… Being born with no trace of the Vaelthyr bloodline at all. That alone made things worse. In a house that worshipped lineage and legacy, the fact that the duke's 'bastard' child lacked their exalted heritage was a disgrace. His father forcing them to be kept a secret to the noble society, pretending they didn't exist. And the rest of the family—especially that old hag Selene—treated them like a stain, a shameful footnote they'd rather erase than acknowledge.
'Well as far from what I've seen, some of the nobles already knew about them.' Kitsaro scoffed.'So much for being kept a secret.'
'So… if she wasn't a noble to begin with, and we're not part of House Vaelthyr anymore, does that mean I'm just… a really rich kid with no title?'
"He poked at the honeyed spiced grain custard, still warm and fragrant with cinnamon and clove." His brows furrowing slightly.
Then another memory floated up—yesterday, at the Iron Fang Registry. Sylvara had signed them both under the name 'Veyra'. He'd been too distracted by the grand halls and shiny displays to pay attention, but now the detail hit him square in the chest.
'My name's not Vaelthyr anymore,' he realized. 'It's Kitsaro Azreal Veyra.'
That… wasn't a bad name. Actually, it sounded kind of cool. Sleek. Strong. And something about it tickled the edge of his memory.
'Veyra… Vyrath…'
His mind spun. 'Could it be that Veyra was his mother's true name? Or maybe a name tied to their bloodline somehow? After all, Vyrath, the divine beast sealed in his blood, sounded awfully close to Veyra.'
His head tilted to the side as he stuffed another bite into his mouth.
'So are we just some super-rich, super-powerful commoners now? With a bloodline stronger than most nobles but no official title?'
The idea made him smirk.
It was kind of awesome, honestly. Like a secret identity. Nobles could snub them all they wanted, but one day, they'd realize they were looking down on people who weren't beneath them—but far, far above.
Kitsaro finished his breakfast with a satisfied sigh, licking the last bit of honey from his fingers. One of the maids approached to clear his plate, bowing politely.
"Thank you!" he chirped, before hopping off the chair and making his way toward the study.
He knew where his mother would be.
As expected, the doors to the study were already open, and the quiet murmur of voices reached him before he entered. Inside, the air was filled with the scent of parchment, wax, and faint citrus polish. The curtains were half-drawn, letting in filtered light, and the fireplace crackled softly, providing a low warmth that seemed to center the room.
Sylvara sat behind her desk, eyes sharp, posture perfect. Across from her sat Cassian, his expression unreadable as always, while Galen Everard stood by the side, carefully placing a silver tray down with three porcelain cups of steaming tea.
Kitsaro stepped in, unnoticed for the moment, and quietly moved to his favorite seat—a plush couch just beside the reading shelves.
Sylvara noticed him with a glance but didn't break her conversation.
"The northern wall still requires reinforcement," she was saying to Cassian, gesturing toward a rough layout of the estate. "The garden fencing is cosmetic at best. We'll need actual barriers installed, preferably with latent enchantments woven in. Galen, make note of the required craftsmen."
"Already done, my lady," Galen replied with practiced efficiency. "I've reached out to a wardsmith in the merchant quarter. He'll send samples of his work within three days."
Cassian leaned forward. "Security's one thing, but we need political presence as well. No matter how fortified the estate becomes, it's meaningless without visibility. The other houses must see Veyra as more than a name."
Sylvara sipped her tea calmly. "That will come with time. Reputation is a blade forged slowly."
"Then perhaps we sharpen it," Cassian said, eyes flickering. "The merchant council is holding a closed gathering next moon cycle. No nobles attending. Just influential trade families. If Veyra appears there—"
"Too soon," Sylvara interrupted. "We've yet to prove our independence. I won't attend as a beggar asking for recognition."
Cassian nodded slowly. "As you say."
Kitsaro leaned back, tucking his arms behind his head. He could listen to them plan for hours. There was something exciting about it—like they were quietly building an empire while everyone else was sleeping.
Galen approached him quietly with a small cup of warm milk on a matching silver tray.
"Young master," he said gently.
Kitsaro blinked up at him. "Oh! Thanks!"
He took the cup with both hands, sipping happily as Galen returned to Sylvara's side.
The study felt alive now—not just filled with people, but with purpose. Everyone had a role. Everyone had a goal.
And for the first time in a long while, Kitsaro didn't feel like an afterthought.
He was Kitsaro Azreal Veyra.
He didn't have to be a Vaelthyr to matter.
As the voices of his mother, Cassian, and Galen resumed their quiet, calculated discussions, Kitsaro let his mind wander.
'One day,' he thought, 'this estate won't just be a hidden place. It'll be known across the kingdom. And when that day comes, House Vaelthyr and that stupid father of his would regret it. They'll remember us as the ones who rebuilt everything with nothing but our own power.'
'I'm going crazy talking to myself like this.' Sighing Kitsaro sipped his warm milk as the discussion in the study continued, the atmosphere charged with purpose and anticipation.
Sylvara set her teacup down gently and turned her gaze toward her son. "Kitsaro," she began, her tone both gentle and resolute, "it's time we considered your education. Are you ready to begin your studies?"
Kitsaro straightened, his golden eyes reflecting both curiosity and determination. "Yes, Mother. I want to learn." Though in his mind the thought of him going through the process of studying again made his head ache.
'Not again.'
A soft smile touched Sylvara's lips. "Good. We'll arrange for tutors to provide you with a comprehensive education." She glanced at Cassian and Galen. "Let's ensure we find the best instructors to guide him."
Cassian nodded. "I'll compile a list of esteemed tutors specializing in various disciplines."
Galen added, "We can prioritize those with experience teaching young nobles, ensuring Kitsaro receives a well-rounded education."
Sylvara's expression grew contemplative as she shifted the conversation. "Now, regarding our registration as a merchant family, we need to establish a sigil that embodies House Veyra's identity."
Cassian leaned forward, his brow furrowed in thought. "Given that our wealth stems largely from strategic investments, perhaps our sigil should reflect prosperity and foresight."
Galen concurred. "Indeed. Symbols such as the lion, representing courage and strength, or the eagle, denoting keen vision and power, could be fitting.
Sylvara nodded thoughtfully. "Let's incorporate elements that signify our resilience and strategic acumen. A creature with multiple tails, perhaps, to represent both our strength and the subtlety of our lineage."
Cassian raised an eyebrow. "A multi-tailed creature? How do you envision this?"
Sylvara smiled enigmatically. "Consider a beast with nine tails, each representing a generation of our bloodline. Its form should be elegant and refined, not overtly fantastical, so as not to reveal too much."
Galen's eyes lit up with understanding. "A stylized depiction, then—a creature with nine flowing tails, integrated seamlessly into the design, symbolizing our enduring legacy without being overt."
Sylvara's eyes gleamed with approval. "Exactly. Let's proceed with this design."
Turning to Cassian, she continued, "Please gather all documentation pertaining to our investments. We'll present them to the Beast Merchant Union to solidify our standing."
Cassian inclined his head. "I'll have the papers ready by tomorrow."
Sylvara rose gracefully. "In the meantime, we need to acquire carriages suitable for our endeavors. Let's make the necessary arrangements to visit the carriage vendors."
The room buzzed with a renewed sense of purpose as plans were set into motion.