Lara’s eyes widened in alarm as Sandoz launched himself toward her. If he crashed into her, the impact would surely send fresh waves of pain through her still-healing body. She barely had time to react.
A tall figure moved like a shadow before her, stepping between them with effortless ease.
Sandoz yelped as he collided into something solid—a man’s strong legs. Stumbling back, he blinked in confusion before tilting his head up. His wide eyes met the imposing presence of a tall, striking man with sharp, unreadable features.
The boy’s excitement faltered. He frowned, his small face scrunching in confusion before his gaze darkened with something akin to resentment.
"Who... who are you?" Sandoz asked cautiously, eyeing Alaric with suspicion.
Why had this man blocked him from hugging his sister?
Alaric met the child’s glare with a cold, impassive stare, his posture relaxed but commanding.
Sandoz sidestepped him, determination flickering in his small frame. This time, he stood right in front of Lara, lifting his chin stubbornly.
"Sister, you are back. I missed you so much," Sandoz repeated, wanting to hug Lara.
"She is injured," he stated flatly. "Do not throw yourself at her."
Sandoz swallowed, the weight of Alaric’s presence pressing down on him. He glanced at Lara, then back at the man.
Lara, still caught off guard by Alaric’s sudden appearance, turned to him with surprise.
"Why are you here?" she asked.
Alaric met her gaze calmly. "You forgot the things Aramis carried for you," he replied. "I brought them here."
Lara narrowed her eyes. "You could have just asked Aramis to bring them instead."
Something flickered in Alaric’s expression. He wasn’t sure why, but her words irked him. Did she not want him here?
Before he could respond, Lara’s attention was drawn elsewhere.
From behind Sandoz, Alpha and Omega emerged, their small figures standing shyly in the background. Lara’s gaze softened when she saw them. Gone were the ragged, malnourished beggars she had met weeks ago.
Alpha was now dressed in a crisp blue tunic with white sleeves, his trousers well-fitted and neat. Omega looked adorable in a long, flowing dress cinched at the waist with a red sash, the fabric soft and elegant.
Their faces, once sallow and hollow, now had a healthy glow, and for the first time, Lara truly saw how good-looking they were.
"You both look wonderful, Alpha, Omega," she said warmly, reaching out to ruffle their hair.
The simple gesture stirred something in her. A memory surfaced—her brothers and her father, General Odin, ruffling her hair in the same affectionate manner.
The moment was brief, interrupted by Omega’s excited voice.
"Sister, Grandpa gave us new names!" she chirped. "I am now called Ivy, and my brother is Ivan!"
Lara raised an eyebrow. "New names?" she murmured.
Had her master done this as a symbol of a new beginning? A fresh start?
Her thoughts were cut short when Reya, who had been standing nearby, finally spoke, her curious gaze lingering on Alaric’s face.
"Miss, who is this gentleman?" she asked, frowning slightly. "He looks... familiar."
Lara answered without much thought, her gaze already shifting toward the small garden in the front yard where new flowers had been planted.
"He is General Kromwel," she said casually.
The name sent a jolt through Reya. She blinked rapidly, her breath hitching.
"Kromwel?" she echoed. "That... that’s the royal family’s name!"
Reya’s astonished gaze flickered between Alaric and Lara, searching for confirmation. But Alaric merely cast her a cursory glance before looking back at Lara.
"Aren’t you going to invite me in and offer me water?" he asked, his tone light, but something in his expression hinted at amusement.
Reya’s eyes widened. Wasn’t this man a bit too presumptuous?
Lara, unfazed, simply sighed. "Forgive my lack of hospitality," she said, then turned to Reya. "Lead the way, and prepare tea for the General."
Reya hesitated before nodding. "Of course, Miss."
Meanwhile, Sandoz, who had been momentarily forgotten, looked heartbroken. His small shoulders slumped, his expression dejected.
Lara noticed immediately.
"Children, go upstairs first," she said gently, patting Sandoz on the shoulder.
"Okay, Sister," Sandoz muttered, though his steps lacked the enthusiasm from earlier. He led the twins back to the second floor where they often played.
Reya guided Lara and Alaric into the sitting room, setting down Lara’s backpack in the corner before hurrying to the kitchen. Moments later, she returned with a tea tray, carefully placing it between them.
As she poured the tea, she hesitated before speaking.
"Miss... why did you not return for your birthday?"
Lara paused, glancing up.
"We waited," Reya continued, her voice aggrieved. "We even prepared a feast for you... but you never came."
"I got caught up in Carles," she said, though there was a heaviness in her tone.
Reya brightened. "Then, even if it’s late, we should still celebrate! How about the day after tomorrow?" she asked eagerly.
Before Lara could refuse, Alaric’s voice cut in.
"So when was your birthday?" he asked, his tone light but laced with curiosity.
Reya, too excited to notice Lara’s discomfort, readily answered.
"Oh, General, it was a week ago! On the 25th!"
Lara shot her a look. Reya needed to learn when to hold her tongue.
Alaric’s eyes glinted with interest. "And you’re eighteen now?" he asked, leaning back slightly.
Lara scoffed. "Do I look that old? I’m only seventeen."
Alaric chuckled, the sound deep and rich. "I was only off by a year. Since when is eighteen considered old?"
Reya, standing off to the side, studied him carefully. Something about his regal presence unsettled her. His features, his posture—it all reminded her of someone... someone important.
"Miss," Reya said hesitantly. "Grandpa said we could celebrate your birthday whenever you return. So, we can still do it the day after tomorrow!"
Alaric smirked slightly, now thoroughly entertained.
"Can we come?" he asked, directing the question at Lara, his eyes hopeful.
Reya, thrilled at the idea, answered before Lara could.
"Of course, General! Miss Lara’s friends are always welcome!"
Lara shot Reya another look. "Is it my birthday or yours?" she muttered. "Besides, it already passed. There’s no point in celebrating."
Reya’s face fell, hurt flickering in her eyes.
Lara sighed. She hadn’t meant to lash out. It wasn’t Reya’s fault... but the mention of her birthday stirred a dull ache in her chest.
Her brothers hadn’t remembered. Neither had her father, General Odin.
Had they forgotten because of the war? Or had they simply stopped caring?
Alaric, who had been silently observing her, frowned slightly.
"Miss Lara... I’m sorry," Reya murmured. "I didn’t mean to upset you."
Lara softened. "It’s fine. No need to apologize. I... overreacted."
Before another word could be spoken, a deep, authoritative voice broke through the air.
"What happened to my disciple?"
Lara turned toward the doorway, her heart tightening.
A familiar figure stood there, his sharp eyes scanning her from head to toe.
Her master had arrived.