Chapter 34 – The Foundation at Home

  The door chime rang softly as Lucien and Dorian stepped back into Café Ashborne. The comforting smell of roasted beans wrapped around them like a blanket — warmth, familiarity, home.

  They hadn’t even taken two steps before Darius looked up from wiping the counter.

  “Well?” he asked immediately, eyes sharp with curiosity. “How’d the meeting with the Rendon’s—”

  Lucien halted at the question.

  Right, how exactly was he supposed to explain:

  “I might be acquiring an entire printing press,”

  without causing mild parental panic?

  But before he could even form a diplomatic sentence, Cerys shot Darius a glare sharp enough to slice paper.

  “Can’t you let them breathe first?” she scolded. “They haven’t even eaten!”

  Darius blinked, baffled. “I just asked—”

  Cerys didn’t let him finish. She herded Lucien and Dorian toward a table with the authority of someone who had raised a chaotic household and survived.

  “Sit, Both of you. You can talk after you eat something.”

  She didn’t even wait for their agreement — plates began appearing in rapid succession.

  Sandwiches, fresh buns, spiced broth, and a small mountain of snacks Lucien didn’t remember anyone ordering.

  “Don’t mind your father,” Cerys said sweetly, placing tea in front of them. “He’ll learn manners one day.”

  Lucien coughed back a laugh. Dorian hid his smile behind the rim of his cup.

  Just then, the café door chimed again — and in walked Riven, Kaelen, Seliora, and Evelis, all mid-conversation and immediately perking up when they spotted Lucien.

  Cerys lit up.

  “Oh, perfect timing! Come, come — you arrived just as these two were about to eat. Join them!”

  Not a single member of the group hesitated. They’d long since passed the “polite visitor” phase. They simply slid into seats like regulars who practically lived there.

  Riven stretched. “Don’t mind if I do.”

  Kaelen added, “I mean, who refuses free food here?”

  Seliora set her bag down with a graceful sigh. “We heard you two went to the press today.”

  Evelis grinned. “We came to interrogate— I mean, ask politely.”

  Lucien rubbed his temples.

  So much for easing into the topic.

  Meanwhile, Darius was still standing by the counter, clearly bewildered at being ignored.

  Cerys shot him another look.

  “Well? Why are you still standing there? Go get more food! There are more mouths now.”

  “What—? Why me?” Darius sputtered, muttering under his breath as he turned toward the kitchen.

  “We have so many employees now… Why do I have to get the food?”

  Cerys crossed her arms — the universal sign of impending doom.

  “Darius.”

  “…Yes, dear,” he surrendered immediately, shoulders slumping.

  Mira and Lira happened to pass by at that exact moment, trays in hand. They both stiffened, then quickly stepped forward with overly bright smiles — trying, and failing miserably, to hide their amusement.

  “We’ll help you, Mr. Darius!” Mira said, voice wobbling with barely-contained laughter.

  “Yes— we’ll bring the trays,” Lira added, pressing her lips together to keep from giggling.

  Darius gave them both a dry look.

  “Oh, just laugh. No need to hide it,” he grumbled. “Apparently I’m the only one here who doesn’t get to escape chores.”

  Mira and Lira finally cracked and giggled.

  Lucien couldn’t help it — he laughed.

  “Dad,” he said, shaking his head, “don’t make Mom angry before we eat.”

  Riven chimed in instantly, dramatic as ever. “Yeah, Uncle Darius, get the food before she throws a spoon at you.”

  Kaelen nodded solemnly. “We fear her more than exams.”

  Seliora added politely, “She’s right though. We’re hungry.”

  Darius sighed dramatically.

  “See? This house is bullying me.”

  The entire table burst into laughter.

  Once everyone had eaten enough to stop Cerys from threatening to bring more food, the table finally settled into a comfortable lull — cups half-filled, plates pushed aside, and the warmth of a shared meal lingering in the air.

  Only then did Dorian sigh, set down his cup, and give Lucien a pointed look.

  “Should we… tell them?”

  Lucien nodded. “Yeah. Before someone drags it out of us with questions.”

  Riven perked up instantly. “Oh? That sounds dramatic. Tell me everything.”

  Kaelen leaned forward, elbows on the table. “What happened? Did the press explode? Did someone cry? Did you cry?”

  “Kaelen,” Seliora warned.

  “I’m just covering possibilities.”

  Evelis sipped her tea, calm but clearly curious. “Something unusual happened. I can feel it.”

  Lucien rubbed the back of his neck. “Well… it wasn’t supposed to be unusual.”

  Dorian massaged his temples. “And yet, here we are.”

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  “Okay,” Riven said, clapping his hands. “Spill.”

  Lucien took a breath.

  “I told the Rendon’s I want to acquire Stone & Quill.”

  A quiet, stunned pause filled the table as everyone processed his words.

  Riven froze mid-sip — tea almost going up his nose.

  Kaelen stopped blinking entirely.

  Seliora’s cup halted halfway to her lips.

  Evelis made a soft, startled sound that could only be described as elegant disbelief.

  “…I’m sorry,” Kaelen said slowly, “you want to what?”

  Riven leaned closer, staring into Lucien’s soul.

  “You went to check a printing press… and you decided to buy the printing press?”

  Lucien lifted a hand. “Technically, acquire. Through investment, not—”

  “Lucien,” Evelis said gently, “that does not make it sound better.”

  Seliora set down her cup with surgical precision.

  “How did the conversation even reach that point? You were supposed to go and meet them for just a personal visit.”

  Dorian nodded at her like a proud committee chairman. “Thank you. Exactly. THAT was the plan.”

  Lucien winced. “It… shifted.”

  “Shifted?” Riven repeated, incredulous.

  “Shifted from ‘How are you doing?’ to ‘I’d like to buy your entire business’?! How does a conversation shift like that?”

  Kaelen dragged a hand down his face. “I leave you unattended for one day and you become a capitalist.”

  “Kaelen,” Evelis hissed, “not helping.”

  Riven pointed melodramatically. “Actually, he’s kind of helping.”

  Seliora leaned forward. “Lucien. Are you serious about this?”

  Lucien nodded slowly, seriously.

  “This isn’t a spur-of-the-moment idea. I’ve genuinely thought it over.”

  The group stared at him.

  For a moment, no one spoke.

  Then Kaelen exhaled sharply.

  “…Okay. Wow. I need a minute.”

  Riven slumped back, staring at the ceiling.

  “I knew fame would change him. I just didn’t expect industrial expansion.”

  Evelis rubbed her temples. “I knew something was coming when Dorian messaged us ‘send help.’ I just didn’t know it would be this.”

  Seliora let out a slow breath, steady but thoughtful.

  “Well… it’s definitely big. And shocking enough to make anyone choke on their tea.”

  She gave Lucien a small, knowing smile.

  “But we also know you’re not the type to make a decision like this without thinking it through. And even if you do mess up…” Her eyes flicked to Dorian. “We have our very reliable Dorian to keep you alive.”

  Dorian adjusted his glasses with the seriousness of a man accepting a divine mission.

  “I will try my absolute best to prevent him from going bankrupt.”

  Lucien smiled awkwardly. “Hey—I obviously don’t plan on bankrupting myself.”

  Everyone stared at him.

  Not one ounce of confidence in their eyes.

  Lucien threw his hands up. “Wow. You guys don’t have that much faith in me?”

  Riven snorted. “We trust you—just… with supervision.”

  Kaelen nodded solemnly. “Heavy supervision.”

  Seliora added, “Constant supervision.”

  Evelis lifted her cup delicately. “Supervision with regular performance reviews.”

  Dorian didn’t look up from his slate. “Necessary supervision.”

  Lucien groaned dramatically, and the table finally burst into laughter.

  Evelis tapped her fingers lightly against her cup.

  “So… how exactly are you planning to break this news to your parents?”

  Lucien froze.

  The table went silent.

  He slowly looked around at the faces of his very unhelpful friends.

  “…I was hoping you all would help me figure that out.”

  Instantly, every single one of them found something else to do.

  Riven stood up. “Ah—my guitar. I left it. Somewhere. Don’t know where.”

  Kaelen pointed at absolutely nothing. “I think… someone called me? From outside? Maybe?”

  Seliora cleared her throat delicately. “I suddenly remember an assignment due. Very urgent. Extremely urgent.”

  Evelis pushed her chair back with a serene expression. “Lucien, I care about you. But parental landmines are not part of my skill set.”

  Dorian didn’t even look up. “No. Absolutely not. This is your battle.”

  Lucien stared at all of them, betrayed. “Wow. Amazing. Truly supportive.”

  Riven patted his shoulder once. “We believe in you.”

  Kaelen added solemnly, “Mostly.”

  “Barely,” Seliora clarified.

  “Conditionally,” Evelis said.

  Dorian finally glanced up, expression flat. “Good luck.”

  And before he could protest, the group collectively nudged, pushed, and herded Lucien out of his seat like a lamb to the slaughter.

  He stumbled to his feet, bewildered.

  “Wait—guys—seriously? You’re just abandoning me?!”

  Riven gave him a thumbs-up. “Go. Face your fate.”

  Evelis nodded. “We’ll remember you fondly.”

  Kaelen added helpfully, “Don’t let your dad choke on his coffee.”

  Seliora whispered, “Your mom might cry. Or yell. Or both.”

  Dorian gestured toward the staircase with all the mercy of a judge delivering a sentence.

  “I’ll help with the paperwork after you survive.”

  Lucien groaned, defeated.

  But he had no choice.

  He walked toward the counter, where Cerys and Darius were cleaning up, completely unaware of the bomb he was about to drop.

  He cleared his throat quietly.

  “Mum, Dad… can we talk upstairs for a moment?”

  Both parents looked at him.

  They reached the upstairs dining room, the evening light spilling softly across the table.

  Lucien’s parents sat on either side, looking relaxed… which only made the boulder in his stomach heavier.

  He sat down.

  Lucien tried small talk.

  “How was the afternoon rush?”

  “Did the new pastry tray sell out?”

  “Alina seems energetic today—”

  Cerys gave him a look. A gentle, motherly, all-seeing look.

  “Lucien,” she said softly, “you can tell us anything. You know that, right?”

  Darius nodded, expression warm but attentive.

  “We’re your parents. Whatever it is, just say it.”

  Lucien inhaled.

  “Okay. So… I made a decision today.”

  Both parents straightened instinctively.

  He continued, voice steady but cautious.

  “I’ve decided to acquire the Rendon’s’ printing press.”

  Silence settled over the room — the kind that happens when everyone’s brain needs extra time to load the next thought.

  Lucien pressed on.

  “To do that, I’ll need to take loans—some against my book earnings. And depending on the valuation and debt structure… we might even have to mortgage the café.”

  Cerys’ fingers froze mid-tap on the table.

  Darius blinked as if someone had switched the language on him.

  And at that exact moment—

  thump… thump… thump

  Little footsteps approached.

  Alina, who had been playing with her plush animals nearby, stood in the doorway holding her piggy bank with both hands. She toddled over, placed it on Lucien’s lap with great seriousness, and announced:

  “Here, Luci. If you need money.”

  Lucien blinked—then laughed helplessly, scooping her up.

  He tapped her forehead gently. “Thank you, star. This helps a lot.”

  But Alina didn’t leave.

  She wrapped her arms tightly around him, tiny fingers gripping the back of his shirt.

  Because in her little world, her big brother saying “loans” and “café mortgage” could only mean one thing:

  Mom and Dad must be mad at him.

  Lucien held her close, smoothing her hair with a gentle stroke.

  “I’m okay,” he whispered. “Really.”

  Across the table, Darius finally exhaled — the long breath of a man who had just finished processing a tidal wave.

  “Well,” he said slowly, “that is… quite the news.”

  Cerys nodded immediately, lips pressed together in agreement.

  Darius continued, voice steady but warm.

  “But I trust you, son. I know you won’t make a decision that puts the family at risk. And even if things don’t go the way we expect… it’s alright.”

  He leaned forward slightly.

  “Remember you can tell us anything that bothers you. You don’t have to carry things alone.”

  Cerys touched Lucien’s hand gently.

  “You always have us to rely on when you hit a wall.”

  Darius nodded, glancing around the room as if taking in the years they had survived together.

  “We’ve been through worse times and came out stronger. We’re not as fragile as you seem to think.”

  A small smile tugged at his lips.

  “And look at where we are now. You changed our café with your own two hands — new recipes, new menu, new staff… all you. We’re already standing in a much better place because of you.”

  He lifted his chin proudly.

  “So yes, I’m confident you can handle whatever you set your mind to.”

  Before Lucien could speak, Cerys walked around the table and wrapped her arms around him from the side, pulling him into a warm hug.

  “Yes, I’m very confident in our genius,” she said with a soft laugh. “So don’t worry so much.”

  Alina, who had been nestled quietly in Lucien’s lap, peeked her head up between them with wide eyes.

  “So… Mom, you’re not going to scold him?” she asked cautiously.

  Cerys tapped her gently on the forehead.

  “You’re not big enough to protect your brother yet.”

  “I am!” Alina protested immediately, puffing her cheeks in outrage.

  Everyone laughed — even Lucien, despite the tension still coiled in his chest.

  Cerys pulled back from the hug just long enough to give Lucien a firm slap on the back of his head.

  Thwack.

  Lucien jerked forward. “Ow—! Mom!”

  She glared. “And that’s for nearly giving us a heart attack! Couldn’t you prepare us a little? Just a little? Instead of dropping it on us like a meteor after everything’s already done?”

  Lucien rubbed his head, looking utterly wronged.

  “But Mom… you just said you and Dad aren’t fragile—”

  Thwack.

  She smacked him again, on the same spot.

  “That is different!” Cerys snapped. “You should at least keep us in the loop instead of surprising us like this! We’re your parents, not your reader’s reading a plot twist!”

  Lucien stared at her, betrayed, then slowly turned his gaze toward Darius — silently begging for backup.

  Darius immediately shut his eyes and leaned back in his chair like a man entering meditation.

  “Don’t look at me,” he said. “I’m invisible.”

  Alina burst into loud laughter from Lucien’s lap, kicking her tiny feet.

  “Luci still gets beaten even when he’s so biiiiig!”

  Lucien groaned. “Alina, you’re supposed to be on my side.”

  “Nope! You’re just silly! and you look funny when you panic!”

  Everyone laughed — Cerys shaking her head but smiling, Darius chuckling behind his hand, Lucien desperately trying to piece together his shredded dignity, and Alina giggling with that innocent, infectious happiness only kids can pull off.