Chapter 204: Fire and the ocean

Clara took three long, desperate gulps of the alcohol, spilling slightly over her mouth before she let out a rough, ragged sigh of bitter contempt.

Eren didn’t stop her. He was walking slowly around the room, checking the heavy curtains, the sturdiness of the oak armoire, and the placement of the iron wall sconces.

"I thought if I just worked quietly as the old madam’s attendant, I could save enough copper to buy my freedom before my sixteenth winter," Clara murmured, wiping her lip with the back of a trembling wrist. Her grey eyes glazed over, fixed on the carpet patterns. "I scrubbed floors until my knees bled. I never dared to step out the front gates... they told us the guards would slit our throats if we ran."

"And then you grew up to be a stunning woman," Eren said quietly, stopping by the window frame, his back turned to her. "And the owner realized you were worth far more."

Clara gave a dry, humorless laugh.

"They locked me up. When I refused to take my first customer, they beat me until two of my ribs fractured and I couldn’t stand. After that... you learn to submit. You smile. You let men who reek of cheap cologne, stale wine, and petty arrogance crawl over you every night."

She set the bottle down, staring at her bare, pale hands.

"Three times," she whispered, the words barely carrying over the crackle of the mana lamp. "Three times I got pregnant. Three times the madam forced that bitter black draught down my throat until I was vomiting. This room... these four walls... this is the only world I know."

She lifted the bottle again, extending it toward him.

"I’ll pass," Eren said immediately.

Clara scoffed, tilting her head in skepticism. "What, are you really so innocent that you won’t even touch a glass of good liquor, my lord?"

Eren dropped into the cushions and rested his elbows on his knees.

"I am definitely not innocent, lady," Eren replied, his voice low, heavy. "But alcohol... it tends to dredge up memories I’d rather keep buried."

Clara watched him intently. The cynicism in her face softened into genuine, quiet curiosity. "You’re a strange one. Most nobles drink precisely because they want to forget."

He didn’t answer, tilting his head toward the adjoining wall. Eren folded his hands, his blue eyes locking onto hers with sudden, unexpected weight.

"Tell me," Eren asked, his tone remarkably casual. "What would you do if this entire building burned to the ground tonight?"

Clara blinked, caught off balance. "What?"

"Hypothetically speaking," Eren continued, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "If this cage turned to ash and you woke up tomorrow morning with enough gold to walk in any direction you chose. What’s your plan?"

She turned her gaze toward the balcony doors, watching the dim capital skyline beyond the glass. Her fingers slowly relaxed, smoothing over her gown.

"Have you ever seen the ocean?"

"A long time ago," Eren replied.

"The travelers who come through here talk about it," Clara whispered, a fragile, breathtaking warmth blooming across her weary face. "They say it’s an endless sheet of deep blue water that stretches past the horizon... that the sun sinks right into the waves at the end of the world. I want to go there."

She gave a genuine smile he had seen on her face all night.

"I’d build a small life there," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "Find a kind, normal man who wouldn’t care about where I came from... someone who would just hold my hand without asking for a price. And I’d have children: a boy, or a girl. I love children. I want to be the kind of mother who stays. I want to give them the warmth, the laughter, and the gentle childhood that my own parents threw away for twenty pieces of silver."

Eren went entirely silent. Her words about children, about building a haven from the wreckage of a stolen childhood, about being the parent who stays. It struck an unexpectedly deep, tender nerve.

Bzzzt.

His earpiece rang.

"Lord Eren," Emily’s crisp, urgent whisper resonated directly into his skull. "Baron Kiliyan has entered the establishment. He’s taking the staircase to Suite 4 now. Pick your moment cleanly. This is our only window."

"Understood."

He let out a yawn, rolling his shoulders and stretching his arms. Stepping over to the velvet sofa, he grabbed the liquor bottle.

"You know," Eren murmured, turning the amber bottle over in his hands. "A girl I care about deeply... she’s the strongest person I know. Ruthless, terrifyingly strict, holds a blade that could split a mountain. But one night, she broke down crying and said almost the same thing."

Clara watched him from the bed, her breath catching as his dark blue eyes met hers with unvarnished, grounding sincerity.

"She wanted a family," Eren continued, his voice low and warm. "So she could give a child the gentle, safe youth she was never allowed to have. It’s her dream."

Without another word, Eren strolled across the room, smoothly tipping the spirit over the plush curtains before splashing the remainder across the desk, the wooden armoire, and the edge of the bedframe.

Clara scrambled to her feet, her hands flying to her mouth, her grey eyes going wide with pure, disbelieving panic. "W-What are you doing?! Are you insane?!"

"What are you doing after this, Clara?" Eren asked casually. He tossed a coin pouch onto the vanity, the unmistakable, dense clatter of solid gold. "Don’t die. Go find that endless blue ocean, and build the life you talked about."

"B-But why?" she stammered, tears spilling over her lashes as she looked between the soaked curtains and the young lord standing before her. "Why would you do this for someone like me?"

Eren unhooked an iron mana sconce from the wall, the magical flame dancing dangerously close to the soaked fabric. He gave an easy, unbothered shrug, flashing that trademark, roguish grin.

***

Ten minutes later, fire started on the second floor of the Velvet Rose.

Thick grey smoke billowed out of Suite 3, triggering the workers across the building and ringing the bells violently. Shouts of panic and frantic screams echoed through the hallways as half-dressed noble patrons, panicked courtesans, and shouting bouncers carrying water buckets flooded the carpeted corridor in a frenzied stampede toward the exits.

Drifting seamlessly against the current of the scrambling crowd, Eren moved with lazy, phantom grace.

His eyes were locked on Suite 4 at the far end of the narrow hallway. Stationed outside were two burly personal guards, shouting orders over the din as they attempted to secure their lord’s exit.

"Eren, what the fuck have you done? We said not to cause any trouble," Norelia’s urgent, flustered voice piped through the earpiece.

"Relax, Professor," Eren muttered, tapping the silver clip at his ear with two fingers.

He took three strides forward, rolling his wrists, ready to send them to sleep in three seconds.

Then, his steps slowed down as he noticed another figure was approaching the same door, wearing a white dress and a golden skull mask underneath the hood.