Cyril shook his head in a peculiar manner.
What a strange dream it had been.
He reluctantly rubbed the soft bedding, stretched lazily, and got up.
Cyril moved sluggishly as he got out of bed, his fair feet landing in exquisitely crafted and soft sheepskin boots.
Fresh clothes, prepared in advance by the maids, were neatly laid out on the intricately carved wooden bedside table.
Cyril took some time to put on these splendid and intricate garments.
Both the clothing and boots fit him perfectly, as if tailored specifically for him.
He couldn't help but admire Count Abraham's exceptional hospitality.
The maid, Anita, was taken aback when she saw Cyril dressed so neatly. Her face turned slightly red.
Last night, the servants had been chatting in the kitchen, discussing the arrival of a wizard and his apprentice at the mansion.
The butler, Pongler, had spent the entire evening rhapsodizing about their appearance and demeanor, using flattering words as if he had been serving these two gentlemen for years.
Anita had rolled her eyes at the time.
Now, as she was informed by the butler to attend to the wizard's apprentice, she felt pleasantly surprised and a little dazed.
She could already envision telling her future grandson about this.
"Your grandmother once served a wizard, you know!"
Anita didn't have a clear understanding of what it took to become a wizard.
She naively assumed it was like attending a regular school, where you graduate after a certain number of years.
So, she was confident that this wizard's apprentice would surely graduate successfully and become a respected wizard.
In her mind, she would have served a wizard by extension.
Anita had not anticipated that this wizard's apprentice would be even more handsome than the poor vocabulary of Pongler could describe.
He seemed more like a nobleman from the mansion than a wizard's apprentice!
The young man had unforgettable handsome features, with fair skin that revealed faint blue veins underneath.
His eyes were like the finest sapphires in the count's collection.
His curly black hair cascaded over his shoulders, with a soft sheen like morning waves.
And there was that unmistakable aura of a wizard that set him apart from ordinary folks!
Anita screamed silently in her heart.
The second shock of her brief life came when she led Cyril, who had just finished breakfast, to meet the wizard.
She had to exert all the willpower she had developed during her rigorous eighteen years of training to control her inner excitement.
She swore to the Goddess of Light that no one could resist the astonishingly mature and elegant charm of the wizard.
No one!
Anita saw the wizard, Mr. Scott, raise an elegant eyebrow ever so slightly, and his refined brows gave off an imperceptible air of superiority.
Something flashed quickly on the silver monocle over his right eye, and the corners of his lips held a barely noticeable gentle smile.
Despite her reluctance, Anita quietly left the splendid meeting room to leave the space for the two gentlemen.
"Good morning, Mr. Scott!" Cyril politely greeted the wizard.
"Good morning," Brian replied in a languid tone.
He lounged on the luxurious leather and gold-trimmed sofa, his two long legs wrapped in well-tailored trousers crossed casually.
He laughed lightly, his voice still gentle and elegant.
However, Cyril had an instinctual feeling that the man before him was like a hidden snake, even though he currently appeared relaxed and carefree.
Even in his current contented demeanor, it was impossible to completely relax one's guard.
Cyril took a sip of his tea and suppressed his thoughts.
He couldn't fathom why he suddenly had such thoughts.
Brian casually twirled the ring on his little finger and asked, "How did you sleep last night?"
Cyril was surprised to hear such a question from Mr. Scott.
After all, Mr. Scott didn't seem like the type to genuinely care about others.
Cyril's heart warmed inexplicably.
"I slept quite well," Cyril replied earnestly.
The room was warm, the bed was spacious and comfortable, and there was no need to wake up early!
After thinking for a moment, Cyril felt it was only polite to reciprocate the concern.
So, he asked sincerely, "Mr. Scott, did you sleep well?"
The young man's voice was clear and distinctive, like morning dew on rose petals.
Brian smiled faintly and replied, "I slept restlessly, actually."
He appeared troubled as he continued, "There's a gift I received last night that I can't open for a few years."
Brian emphasized the word "gift" significantly.
Cyril heard Mr. Scott's cryptic words and was surprised.
A gift?
Did someone from the wizarding world contact Mr. Scott last night?
It wasn't a common holiday, so why would someone send a gift now?
Cyril didn't understand what could have made Mr. Scott lose sleep over it.
Cyril hesitated for a moment and offered reassurance, "Perhaps the gift will be more to your liking in a few years."
He blinked his eyes, his voice soft.
"More to my liking, you say," Brian responded, smiling faintly.
He emphasized the word "liking" with a mysterious twinkle in his eye and a subtle playfulness in his tone.
Soon, Count Abraham received word that the two esteemed guests had arrived in the reception hall and inquired about when the testing could begin.
"Right now," Brian said lazily.
Cyril noticed that Mr. Scott did not produce the crystal ball that had given him such nightmares.
This puzzled him.
He had assumed that today's test would be similar to the one in Mr. Scott's carriage, involving the crystal ball.
The kind of excruciating test he had experienced...
Although Cyril had felt terrible during his own test, he had found some comfort in watching others go through it.
He wondered why Mr. Scott seemed troubled by something at this particular moment.
Cyril, seemingly sensing his confusion, was met with a slight smile from Brian, who explained earnestly, "Not everyone has the privilege of handling my crystal ball."
Brian's deep, magnetic voice was both languid and enticing, and his elegant tone seemed to carry a hint of ambiguity.
Cyril suddenly locked eyes with Mr. Scott, whose gaze was as mesmerizing as the deep blue sea under the sunlight.
It was as if Cyril had been struck by something, causing his heart to skip a beat and his thoughts to momentarily scatter.
It was like someone had gently tickled his heart with a soft feather.
In the next moment, Cyril felt a sudden heat, prompting him to hastily avert his gaze.
A word flashed in his mind: "heartthrob."
Cyril believed that if Mr. Scott lived in the modern era, he would undoubtedly have countless fans.
He recalled stumbling upon articles like "Examining the Four Most Refined Bad Boys of the Present" while browsing the star network...
Cyril discreetly glanced at Mr. Scott's astonishingly handsome face framed by slender silver-rimmed glasses, noticing a faint pink tint on his fair earlobes for no apparent reason. Thankfully, at this moment, there was a commotion coming from outside the drawing room, diverting Cyril's attention.
A group of people entered under the guidance of Count Abraham, the noise outside breaking Cyril's reverie.
Cyril looked at the men and women dressed in splendid attire.
Among them were young adults in their twenties, but most were adolescents, around sixteen or seventeen.
Despite their attempts to maintain aristocratic etiquette, their expressions betrayed their anticipation and admiration.
There were so many people.
Cyril saw so many nobles for the first time and found it quite fascinating.
One particularly delicate-looking young man inadvertently met Cyril's gaze and flashed a sweet smile at him.
If not for the fact that this young man was wearing men's clothing, Cyril would have mistaken him for a charming girl.
Thinking about social etiquette, Cyril returned the smile.
His smile was as pure as the first snow by the lake in early winter.
The young man paused for a moment and then casually averted his gaze.
"Who would like to go first?"
Brian was calmly seated in an armchair, scanning the group with a dispassionate look, and he spoke indifferently.
He maintained polite reserve with these visitors, appearing somewhat indifferent but not impolite.
Brian critically assessed the group of young ladies and gentlemen.
The neckline of one wasn't elegant enough, and the arm of another was too slender...
He pondered, and then he concluded that young Cyril had the most exquisite bone structure.
Even these young ladies and gentlemen, raised in various noble mansions, couldn't compare.
He was indeed captivated by those small bones.
With this thought, Brian's mood improved considerably.
The young lords and ladies, who had come eagerly after receiving the news, hesitated.
Although the wizard appeared handsome and elegant, his courteous yet distant demeanor made them apprehensive.
Especially after that one glance that felt as chilling as a snake's gaze, sending shivers down their spines.
"I'll go first!"
At this moment, a lively female voice rang out.
Cyril looked at the girl who spoke.
She had smooth, glossy auburn hair, and while her features were not particularly striking, her cheerful smile made her quite likable.
Brian nodded slightly.
He casually snapped his fingers, and a piece of parchment and a bottle of ink appeared on the small round table in the center.
The ink bottle, with its round belly, held a golden-rimmed quill inside.
"Sign your name on the parchment," Brian said calmly.
His voice was soft but carried an undeniable sense of authority.
Grace nodded and secretly breathed a sigh of relief.
She was somewhat surprised that it was this straightforward.
She held the quill and quickly wrote her cursive signature on the parchment— "Grace Abraham."
In the next moment, the ink strokes shifted to form the number "10."
Grace's eyes immediately lit up.
She was Count Abraham's granddaughter, and three years ago, due to her age, she regretfully missed the previous wizard recruitment.
However, Grace had heard Count Abraham mention that wizards placed special importance on mental strength.
Generally, if the test showed a two-digit mental strength value, it meant qualification.
So, Grace looked at the wizard expectantly.
She didn't dare to openly scrutinize the wizard but discreetly kept her gaze directed in his direction.
Brian glanced at the number on the parchment indifferently, nodded, and signaled that Grace had passed.
He casually said, "Next."
The others, relieved that signing their names seemed to be the only requirement, eagerly stepped forward and wrote their names.
Cyril stared in amazement at how effortlessly and painlessly they completed the mental strength test.
For a moment, he felt like his earlier infatuation had been in vain.
He really didn't want to earn Mr. Scott's special favor with his crystal ball and all.