Lord of The Mysterious Realms Chapter 882

To the people of Nolan, a royal maid from the distant kingdom of Ruen was a complete stranger. But Jenkins knew with certainty that the moment he and Julia Minnewick set foot on Maidenhaven Road, the Church’s investigation had already begun.

He wasn't particularly worried about his connection to Ruen becoming public knowledge; after all, it wasn’t illegal. As his own powers grew, Jenkins had been slowly revealing some of his less critical secrets to his friends.

Lies, he knew, were bound to be uncovered eventually. The best way to handle them was to be the one to reveal the truth before someone else did.

Julia seemed incredibly nervous. In Jenkins's mind, she had always embodied the image of a perfect head maid, but even she seemed out of her depth in this situation. Mary's unusual enthusiasm during dinner certainly didn't help matters.

Mary and Robert were both surprised to see Jenkins bring a woman home, but their surprise was quickly overshadowed by delight. It seemed their son was finally taking a crucial step forward in his life.

The dinner conversation was lively and pleasant, and everyone was clearly impressed with the meal, which had undoubtedly come from a first-class restaurant.

The only one displeased was Chocolate. Despite being able to foresee the future to some extent, the cat was far from omniscient. It hadn't anticipated events unfolding quite .

It had genuinely believed it could help its foolish human.

Fortunately, Mary refrained from asking any awkward questions like, “So, when's the wedding?” Otherwise, the evening would have become unbearably awkward for everyone—except, perhaps, for the youngest Williams son, who was entirely focused on his plate.

Jenkins had dressed for the occasion in his finest formal wear—the very suit he'd worn for his coronation as a Saint. Julia, in turn, was dressed in a stunning ball gown he had never seen her in before.

Aside from one chance encounter at a tavern, he had only ever seen her in a maid's uniform. Seeing her now in a beautiful, voluminous gown, complete with a matching set of jewelry, Jenkins wondered how he had never before noticed just how beautiful Julia was.

Julia Minnewick had the classic features of the people from the northern continent: a long, narrow face, a high-bridged nose, a broad forehead, and a prominent brow. While not the stereotypical blonde, blue-eyed beauty, her lovely face, graceful figure, and fair skin combined to create a striking and rare beauty.

“Perhaps she never had the chance to dress up , always being at Miss Stuart's side.”

He mused to himself, nodding at the thought.

After the family finished their delightful dinner, Mary suggested they all go to the Royal Opera House on the outskirts of the city to see an opera.

This had been part of the plan all along, so no one was surprised. Jenkins, for his part, was relieved; he didn't need to worry about any of the other young women in his life finding out about this evening, as they were all occupied.

The opera began, and the house lights dimmed to black. As the first powerful notes from a singer filled the theater, Jenkins remembered there was something he still needed to discuss with Robert.

His father was seated to his left, so he gave him a gentle nudge with his elbow.

“Did you receive the letter I sent from Shire City?”

He asked softly. The letter had explained the situation regarding Oakland Williams, who was buried in the cemetery there.

“I did,” Robert replied, his voice just as low. “I think we can proceed with the plan to move his grave once spring is fully here. We certainly can't leave poor old Oakland to rest alone in a foreign land.”

Robert’s reply was just as quiet.

“Good. This is for you.”

He pulled back the hand that had been stroking Chocolate, reached into his collar, and retrieved the metal piece that Oakland Williams’s landlord had given him from the pocket of his shirt.

“This was Oakland's. The landlord said it belonged to the Williams family.”

In the dim light of the theater, Robert took the object and weighed it in his palm for a moment. Then, just as Jenkins had done, he reached inside his shirt. Instead of a pocket, however, he pulled out a chain from around his neck.

He handed his own chain, along with the piece Jenkins had given him, back to his son. It was only then that Jenkins saw that the pendant hanging from the chain was made of the very same material.

Jenkins fiddled with the two pieces in his hands. With a gentle push, they clicked together perfectly, forming a larger, irregularly shaped metal object.

A faint memory of the pendant surfaced from the original Jenkins's mind. He and his brothers had always assumed it was just some strange trinket their father had found somewhere.

“My grandfather—your great-grandfather—had two brothers.” Read complete versıon only at NoveI[F]ire.net

The middle-aged man stared absently at the stage, his voice a low murmur as he drifted into reminiscence.

“Before your great-grandfather died, he divided a strange pendant into three pieces and gave one to each of his sons. Your grandfather was the youngest, so his piece was passed down to me. The eldest brother's part was lost; his family moved away a generation ago. Judging by the shape, the one you brought belongs to the middle brother. I never thought the story my father told me as a child was actually true... I always thought this pendant was just some souvenir he'd picked up somewhere.”

“And now... you're giving it to me?”

Jenkins's voice caught, and he struggled to keep his whisper low. In the darkness, he could see Chocolate's eyes gleaming, but after a moment of inspection, the cat seemed to lose interest in the object in his hands.

“Yes. You keep it. And one day, you can pass it on to your son. Who knows, maybe he'll be the one to stumble upon the final piece. I'd love to see what it looks like when it's whole.”

The handsome, middle-aged man still didn't look at Jenkins. For some reason, his voice suddenly took on a wistful, melancholic tone.

“I truly hope I can be there to see that day... You know, Jenkins, I'd like it if you named your first son's middle name 'Robert.' I just... I really hope I live to see all three of you boys start your own families. It feels like only yesterday you were born. You weren't even as big as that cat of yours...”

Both pieces of metal were perfectly ordinary, yet Jenkins's palms grew slick with sweat as he clutched them. An unexpected wave of sadness washed over him.

“I am Jenkins Williams.”

He stared blankly at the stage, repeating the phrase in his mind as he had done countless times before. The stage was a riot of flashing lights and vibrant activity, but it all felt distant, as if it had nothing to do with him. A profound sense of being an outsider settled in his heart.

His ability, The Observer, began to pulse with a faint purple light.