Marvel: Playing Iron Man, Falling In and Out of Love with Jinx

Blue Scent Manor.

The manor gates swung open as the engine let out a roar like a beast's growl. Duke returned to Blue Scent Manor with Nedley in tow. The moment they dismounted, a butler appeared before them.

"Lord Duke, madam sent me to welcome you and your companion."

"Lead the way."

Duke gave Pride a light pat, letting the mech-beast wander off on its own, then followed the butler inside with Nedley, who looked like a country bumpkin seeing a city for the first time. They passed through the grand hall, walked across the banquet room, and down a corridor before stopping in front of an ornate door.

"Madam is inside. Please make yourself comfortable."

The butler bowed and walked away with elegant poise. Duke glanced at Nedley, who was still awestruck by the extravagance of the Ferros estate, and patted him on the shoulder. "Snap out of it. We're here."

"O-oh..." Nedley hurriedly tore his gaze away from the gilded picture frame and followed behind like an obedient schoolboy.

Duke knocked on the door, and a cool, familiar voice called out from within. "Come in."

"I found him," Duke said, pushing the door open and stepping inside with Nedley. Camille stood by the fireplace, one hand resting on the back of a chair, her back to them.

Duke glanced at the hearth, then pulled out a stack of blueprints from his inventory. He carefully selected one and compared it to Camille's figure.

The drawing showed Camille with a soft smile and crescent-moon eyes, radiating the innocence and vibrance of youth. It was a portrait of warmth and joy.

The woman before them turned, still holding the chair. Her long silver hair was tied in an elegant bun. Her eyes, with a faint glint of blue, were calm and distant. The black markings running from her eyes gave her the cold, cutting edge of a blade.

Her mechanical legs, flexible and razor-sharp, showed no trace of emotion. Her presence was overwhelming. The woman in the picture and the one standing before them, two completely different people.

"You did well," Camille said with a nod after giving Nedley a brief glance. She moved to the sofa by the window and sat with her leg-blades elegantly crossed, like a lazy noblewoman, regal and untouchable.

"As for you..."

Camille looked at Nedley and froze. The young man standing before her bore a striking resemblance to someone she once knew, his face, his demeanor, even the faint innocence in his eyes.

It hurt just to look at him.

"You're not Giham."

Her voice was calm but certain. Nedley fidgeted and replied, "I'm his nephew. Someone gave me a ticket and some money, told me to come find you."

"I remembered something my uncle left behind... I thought this would be the best time to return it."

"Did he ever marry?"

Camille took the blueprints from Duke and slowly flipped through them. Duke stood silently behind her. It wasn't often he got to hear juicy gossip, especially from someone like the Steel Shadow. Naturally, he had to eavesdrop.

"No. My uncle never married. He died alone in his home."

Nedley lowered his head, his voice tinged with sorrow. But after a moment, he looked up again.

"If Uncle knew I met you, and saw you still as beautiful as ever... he would've been happy."

"Perhaps."

Camille's hand paused on a particular drawing, Giham's final sketch. She no longer had the heart to look at the rest and gently set the stack on the coffee table.

Nedley quickly pointed to the topmost sketch. "This one... he drew it entirely from memory. He kept it with him all the time. He said it was from the first time he met you. He said you had never looked more beautiful."

"Yes... our first meeting."

Camille's gaze drifted around the room, memories flooding back, but she crushed them before they could take root. Sentiment was a weakness she couldn't afford.

"You must be tired, Nedley. I'll have Duke prepare a room for you. You should rest."

"But, Lady Camille, "

Nedley tried to say more, but Duke waved a hand, silently motioning for him to wait outside.

Nedley opened his mouth but said nothing, then quietly exited the room and waited outside.

"Is there anything else?" Camille asked.

"I know it might not be my place to say, but after I found Nedley, we were attacked by spies."

Duke placed a badge on the table. Camille glanced at it and nodded. "I understand. Take him to rest. I'll take care of the rest."

Seeing her eyes lowered, Duke tactfully left the room. Once the door shut, Camille stood up, picked up the blueprints, and walked to the fireplace.

She stared at the flickering coals, then tossed the sketches into the flames.

The oiled parchment caught fire instantly, the drawings curling and burning with bright, orange tongues.

Camille watched them burn, watching her past ignite, writhe, and crumble, until only ash and ruin remained.

"Ashes, ashes... you fall down."

Camille murmured, eyes fixed on the dying embers.

Study Room.

Creak,

The door opened. Camille stepped into the room. Behind her, the door remained ajar. Across from her, Dakora, her niece, was discussing family finances with their grandfather.

"Great-aunt Camille."

"Leave, Dakora."

Camille's voice was as cold and sharp as a blade. Dakora obeyed without hesitation, scooping up her books and hurrying out, closing the door behind her.

"Sister... shouldn't you be supervising the new recruits today?"

Steven's eyes darted. Camille softened, just a bit.

He only called her "sister" when he was guilty. When he was trying to hide something.

"I know everything, Steven."

"W-what are you talking about?"

Steven backed away in his wheelchair. Camille crossed the room in a few steps, gently cupping his face in her hands, as if trying to burn his image into her memory.

"Camille... sister... I..."

His body trembled. She touched his scarf.

"Thank you," she whispered. "For reminding me not to forget my purpose."

"C-Cam..."

Steven gripped the wheelchair's armrest with all his strength, knuckles white.

"You owe me... just as you owed our father."

Struggling to breathe, Steven's bulging eyes filled with fear. Camille leaned close and whispered:

"For my family, I offer myself.

I will serve with loyalty, without deceit, without selfishness.

To this vow, I give my soul, my body, my heart."

"You have always been my responsibility, little brother... from the beginning to the very end."

She let go of his scarf and gently smoothed his hair, just like she used to.

Thud!

A book hit the floor with a loud crack. Dakora covered her mouth, trying not to scream.

"G-Great-aunt... I..."

"Sound the death bell, Dakora."

"From tomorrow onward, you are the new head of the family."

Camille walked past her, stopping at the door. She and Dakora stood back to back.

"Don't slack off."

The sound of metal scraping across the floor slowly faded. Only then did Dakora release her breath. She looked at Steven, slumped in his chair, head bowed lifelessly, and hugged herself.

Lavender Fields.

"This is the lavender garden. You're free to, "

Dong, dong, dong...

A series of low, solemn chimes interrupted Duke mid-sentence.

Nedley turned to him. "Why'd you stop?"

"The death bell has rung."

"Huh?"

"The current head of the family... has passed."

Duke gazed out across the sea of lavender, eyes heavy with sorrow.

Whether that sorrow was for the fallen patriarch... or for a woman without a heart... was anyone's guess.

(End of chapter)

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