Lord of Winter: Beginning with Daily Intelligence Chapter 696 - 393: Red Tide’s Castle (Part 3)

Alina softly breathed out, releasing the astonishment within her.

Louis remained silent, positioning himself behind Mike with a relaxed and mild manner, allowing Mike to chatter on without pause.

Two tiny figures stood before the glass.

Orsus and Isaac.

Five-year-old Orsus stood on his toes, fogging the glass with his breath.

Eight-year-old Isaac extended his arms, attempting to sketch a circle bigger than his own body.

Their fingers drew curves across the glass, creating fleeting foggy trails that the heat swiftly cleared away.

Once Isaac completed his drawing, he instinctively looked back at Louis.

No trace of fear or fawning caution filled his eyes, only pure eagerness, like awaiting judgment: "Did I draw it well?"

Louis refrained from rebuking them with "Don’t dirty it," and displayed no elder’s harshness.

He effortlessly accepted the toddler girl from Sif, cradling the two-year-old in one arm, and approached the glass himself.

The child’s breath-mist lingered faintly; he drew out his handkerchief, tenderly wiped the droplet from Isaac’s nose, then nonchalantly removed the hand smudges from the glass too.

His action felt everyday, akin to clearing a household table.

"Don’t huddle too close, watch you don’t knock your heads." That was his sole gentle warning.

Isaac poked out his tongue and dutifully retreated a step.

Following this short diversion, the party pressed on into the inner hall, where Mike at last guided them toward the bathroom adjacent to the master bedroom.

"Sir, this spot has a clever trick." He spoke up eagerly, eyeing Louis’s face.

Louis laughed lightly, massaging his brow: "No craftsmen’s gathering today. Make it short."

Mike eased up slightly, advanced to the dark wood door, and swung it wide.

A roomy bathroom lay within, its walls clad in pale stone tiles, the floor radiating comforting heat.

He moved to the side, seized the ornate brass lever, and turned it smoothly.

"Buzz—"

With a faint hum, hot vapor-filled water gushed from the faucet, cascading into the stone sink and scattering tiny splashes.

Mist gradually filled the space, infusing it with soothing coziness.

"It harnesses deep geothermal sources to warm subterranean water, then pressure valves push it upward," Mike reined in his thrill, "Sir, it flows anytime, day or night."

Alina advanced and dipped her hand beneath the flow.

The heat felt perfect, not scalding or chilly, reminiscent of sun-warmed rock—a true luxury in the Northern lands.

Her mind drifted to the aged castle back in Frost Halberd City.

Despite upgrades, during this time of year, mold rings clung to corners, water hauled up in pails cooled before it could heat, bucket after bucket.

Yet here, one simple turn summoned the city’s buried mechanisms for this endless warm flow.

Next, they ascended the winding stairs to the Main Castle’s pinnacle.

Maids awaited by the entrance, soft lamps glowed inside, while warm pastries fresh from the oven and steaming berry tea adorned the long table.

A subtle sugary fragrance wafted through the air, melting away the day’s weariness upon stepping in.

Orsus yawned drowsily in Sif’s arms, rubbing his eyes, as Emily lounged on the settee, nibbling a pastry with real appetite.

Louis settled his little daughter onto the plush cushion for the maid to tend, then passed around cups of hot tea.

The kids clustered by the pastry tray, chattering freely in unwonted ease.

Isaac alone stayed apart from the merry bunch.

Positioned at the massive window, hands clasped behind, he stared down at the lamp-lit streets and ceaseless carriage streams, a natural air of lordly ownership settling on his youthful features.

Louis approached, halting behind him: "Isaac."

"Hmm?"

"What’s your take on this window?"

Isaac blinked in surprise, automatically brushing the glass before jerking his hand away: "It’s super sturdy, crystal clear, and... probably costs a fortune."

Louis smiled: "Plenty of Lords hide behind massive stone barriers. Safety that way—no views out, no sounds in."

He rapped the carpet beneath his boots, then pointed to the glow beyond the pane.

"Stone keeps out killers, but also the starving masses. Insiders miss the outer chill, outsiders miss the feasts within."

Isaac mulled it over, brows knitting: "So we should stand apart?"

Louis bent down, locking eyes: "Learn to embody this glass."

Isaac gaped: "Become... glass?"

"Exactly."

Louis rapped the pane with his finger: "Tough enough to defy the outer frost and spite. Transparent enough to always mirror the lives of those below in your sight."

He halted, voice steady yet firm: "A blind Lord falls to his people in time. Etch this lesson deep."

Isaac gazed upward, nodding resolutely: "I won’t forget."

Alina observed quietly, a subtle warmth stirring in her chest.

Not her first glimpse of Louis schooling Isaac; she knew he was molding the young heir in ruling a city, shielding its folk like kin.

"After the Duke’s passing, I figured Edmond erred, granting reins to this youth, expecting his masks to slip eventually.

But six years on, he’s revived Frost Halberd City, raising Isaac as true family, not a mere tool—guiding him into manhood, lordship, like an elder sibling would."

She raised her teacup, loosening her hold with ease.

Beyond the glass, blizzards raged past the walls, skies heavy on the edge, yet inside bloomed another realm of comfort, tea’s perfume hung, children’s giggles lingered in the air.

"They dub him Winter Tyrant among nobles," she mused inwardly, "for they lack the grace to bask near his radiant Sun."

"A fine Lord, steadfast spouse..." She hesitated, lips curving faintly, "Above all to me, he’s Isaac’s finest brother-in-law, my ideal son-in-law."

Alina’s smile bloomed fully at last.