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Lucan dismounted, handing the reins to a waiting stable boy. He took a deep breath, steadying himself before walking towards the house. The door opened before he could reach it, and there she was, standing with the same composed elegance that he remembered so well.

Lady Seraphina Valen, his mother, was a striking woman. Her cold, expressionless face belied the warmth and care that she held deep within. Her features were sharp, her high cheekbones and almond-shaped eyes giving her an air of regal beauty.

Her hair, a cascade of silver, was tied back in a simple but elegant braid, and her figure, still as graceful as ever, was draped in a flowing emerald gown that accentuated her slender frame.

She regarded him with those piercing, ice-blue eyes, her expression unreadable. "Lucan," she said in her usual calm, emotionless tone. However, Lucan knew she was happy, living with her years, he could understand her emotions even though she have emotionless tone and face.

"Mother," Lucan replied. He stepped forward.

She stepped aside, allowing him into the grand foyer. The house had not changed; it was still the same pristine, orderly place he remembered. Every detail was in its place, every surface polished to a sheen.

"Come, we have much to discuss," she said, turning to lead him towards the sitting room.

Lucan followed her, his eyes taking in the familiar surroundings, yet his mind was focused on the woman before him. He knew she was happy to see him, though she would never show it in the way most mothers would.

As they entered the sitting room, Seraphina motioned for him to sit. She took her seat across from him, her posture straight and poised. A servant entered with a tray of tea, placing it between them before quietly exiting the room.

"It has been too long," Seraphina said, her voice measured as she poured tea into the delicate porcelain cups. "Six years is an unforgivable span of time for a son to be away from his mother."

"I know, Mother. Well there are..."

She raised a hand, stopping him mid-sentence. "I understand your reasons, Lucan. But you are here now, and that is what matters."

He nodded, after brief silence he said, "I've missed you."

Her eyes softened just a fraction, and she inclined her head slightly. "As have I."

They sat in silence for a moment, sipping their tea. Lucan could feel the familiar comfort of being in her presence.

After a while, Seraphina set her cup down and looked at him intently. "I have a request, Lucan."

"Anything, Mother."

"I wish to meet Maris."

Lucan looked at her, surprised by the request. "You want to meet her?"

"Yes. You have raised her, so in a way she is my granddaughter. I hope to meet her, as granddaughter."

Lucan hesitated, not because he didn't want them to meet, but because his mother is too smart and best in observing others. If his mother met Maris, then it won't take much time for his mother to understand that Maris love him as romantic way.

"Of course," he agreed. "I'll arrange it."

Seraphina gave a small nod of approval. "Good."

Lucan decided to let them meet.

She then stood, her movements fluid and precise. "But before that, I have another request," she added, a faint glimmer of something playful in her eyes—something he hadn't seen in years.

Lucan raised an eyebrow, curious. "What is it?"

"I want you to join me in the archery field."

Lucan couldn't help but chuckle. "You still practice?"

"Every day," she replied with a hint of pride. "I may be retired, but one does not simply forget the art of archery."

His mother, once the kingdom's best archer, had taught him everything he knew about the archery. However, while she had a natural talent, Lucan had always struggled with it. He was skilled with a sword, could handle magic with ease, but the bow had never felt comfortable in his hands.

"I haven't picked up a bow in years," he admitted, following her as she led him outside towards the archery range that was situated at the far end of the estate.

"Then it's time to see how worse you gotten," Seraphina said with a faint smile, her tone still as even as ever.

The archery range was as he remembered it—long rows of targets set up at varying distances, the grass impeccably maintained. His mother walked over to a rack of bows, selecting one with the ease of long practice.

She handed him a bow, its weight familiar yet foreign in his hands. He took an arrow from the quiver she offered, nocking it to the string and pulling back, trying to remember the lessons she had taught him so many years ago.

Seraphina watched him carefully, her eyes assessing. "Remember to keep your stance strong, your grip firm but not too tight."

Lucan adjusted his posture, taking a deep breath as he aimed at the nearest target. He released the arrow, watching as it flew through the air, only to miss the mark by a wide margin.

His mother said nothing, merely nodding for him to try again. He nocked another arrow, taking more time to steady his aim. This time, the arrow struck the target, but far from the center.

"Better," she commented, her tone neutral.

She took up her own bow, drawing it back with an effortless grace that Lucan could only admire. She released the arrow, and it flew straight and true, hitting the bullseye with a resounding thud.

Lucan shook his head with a wry smile. "You make it look so easy."

"It is easy," she replied, lowering her bow. "With practice."

He continued to shoot, each arrow getting closer to the center but never quite hitting it. His mother offered quiet advice, her instructions precise and helpful. Despite his initial frustration, Lucan found himself enjoying the activity, the nostalgia of their shared pastime bringing back memories of a simpler time.

After a while, Seraphina lowered her bow and turned to face him. "You got worse than before, but you can improve," she said with a faint smile.

Lucan chuckled, lowering his bow. "I think I'll leave the archery to you, Mother."

"Yeah, but accompany me time to time since you here now," she replied with a nod.

"Of course."

They walked back towards the house, the sun beginning to set, casting a warm glow over the estate. Lucan felt a sense of peace settling over him.

---

Maris paced back and forth in her room, her heart racing with a mix of excitement and anxiety. She had always known that this day would come, but now that it was here, she found herself more nervous than she had anticipated. Meeting Lucan's mother—her future mother-in-law—was a significant moment, one that she wanted to get just right.

Technically, Lucan's mother was more like a grandmother to her, but in her heart, Maris saw her as the mother-in-law she had always dreamed of having. The thought filled her with warmth, but also with a sense of pressure. She wanted to make a good impression, to be seen as worthy of Lucan's love and his family.

Maris stood in front of the mirror, fretting over what to wear. Should she choose something formal or something more relaxed? Her hands trembled slightly as she adjusted the neckline of her dress, wondering if it was too much or not enough. Then there was her hairstyle—should she wear it up or let it cascade down her shoulders?

"What will she think of me?" Maris wondered aloud, her mind racing with thoughts of how to conduct herself, what to say, and how to show her love and respect for the woman who had raised Lucan.

---

Lucan knew that Maris was spying on him, so Maris might already knew that she will meet his mother.

Lucan want then it's easy to block from Maris's stalking but there was no need. When he want, he will block her spying.