The pale light of dawn crept through the frost-kissed windows of the Mendel residence, casting a soft glow on the hardwood floors.
Reya and Lara were already awake, their footsteps quiet as they moved about the kitchen. The hearth had been lit, crackling gently in the corner, warding off the chill of the cold January morning—the coldest month of the year.
A large pot of porridge simmered on the stove, the steam curling upward like a soft breath. Under Lara’s careful instruction, Reya stirred in shredded chicken, chopped boiled eggs, roasted garlic, and a handful of finely sliced spring onions. The savory aroma filled the house, warm and comforting.
The Norse siblings, having woken up early to return to the inn and freshen up, were drawn in by a delicious aroma that led them to the kitchen. However, they were disappointed to discover that it was only simple porridge.
Lara turned to them with a bright smile that warmed more than the fire ever could. "You’re awake. Come, have breakfast first."
When she was Lara Starr, she was quiet and reserved. But now, she had grown into her role in this household—a reliable older sister figure, thanks to Reya, Sandoz, and the others who now leaned on her strength. She filled bowls with practiced hands, ladling the steaming porridge into earthenware bowls. Then, she poured them mugs of thick, creamy hot chocolate, sweetened with wild honey and enriched with the fresh cow’s milk delivered every morning by a farmer Grandpa Jethru had long done business with. Originally intended for the children, Lara believed everyone deserved a little warmth today.
The three siblings who initially showed disgust at the porridge now have smiles brighter than the morning sun. Lara prepared bowls for them and also gave them piping hot chocolate sweetened with honey and made creamy with cow’s milk, which was freshly delivered every day by a farmer Grandpa Jethru had a deal with. The milk, of course, was for the children.
"What drink is this?" Bener asked, eyeing the thick, caramel-colored liquid inside his ceramic mug. Steam rose in lazy spirals.
"It’s chocolate," Lara said with a smile. "Made from fermented cacao beans ground into paste. It’s my favorite—second only to coffee and tea."
At her gentle urging, they took their first tentative sips. As the rich, velvety liquid slid down their throats, their eyes lit up with surprise and delight. The warmth spread to their fingers, to their toes, to their very souls..
"How’s the taste?" Lara asked expectantly.
"It’s... delicious," Percival said, his voice quiet with wonder. "It tastes nothing like coffee."
Lara chuckled and handed them spoons with a pitcher of water. "Finish up quickly. The children will be waking soon."
They dug into their bowls, expecting blandness—but what they tasted instead was a revelation. This porridge was unlike anything they’d ever had before: savory, rich, with a delicate balance of texture and flavor. Their hands moved faster, spoons scraping against ceramic, eyes wide with appreciation. Bener opened his mouth to ask for seconds—just as a knock sounded at the front door.
Reya rushed to answer it and nearly gasped when she saw who stood on the other side.
"Y-Your Highness," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.
Prince Alaric stood there, regal and unflinching despite the cold, flanked by Agilus and Angus, while Aramis was somewhere hidden.
When Reya didn’t move to let them in, Alaric’s brow furrowed in mild irritation.
Lara, sensing something was off, quickly emerged from the dining room and paused mid-step at the sight of their guests. She gave a respectful nod. "Good morning, Your Highness. Please, come in."
Reya, still flushed, recovered enough to speak again. "Miss Lara, why not invite the prince to join your brothers for breakfast?"
Agilus clicked his tongue and put on an exaggerated look of innocence. "Yes, we haven’t had our breakfast yet."
Lara shot Reya a look that promised a lecture later, but she nodded politely. "The porridge was meant for the children, but we have enough to share." She motioned for Reya to prepare bowls and drinks for the newcomers.
As Reya set down the steaming bowls and mugs at the table, the Norse brothers who followed her from the dining hall stood and greeted Alaric in unison.
"Good morning, Your Highness."
Alaric nodded once. "You haven’t returned to the inn yet?"
"Well," said Gideon sheepishly, "we got a little... distracted by our sister’s specialty porridge and chocolate."
Reya laid out the bowls and mugs on the low table as the prince and Agilus took their seats. Agilus took a sip first—and his eyes widened.
"Ari, you have to try this," he said, astonished. "It’s delicious."
Alaric raised a skeptical brow but lifted his mug nonetheless. The moment the chocolate touched his lips, his expression shifted. He blinked, glanced into the cup as if it held secrets, and then took another sip, slower this time.
By the time both men had finished their bowls and drinks, Lara still hadn’t returned. Alaric set his mug down, glancing toward the door with faint unease.
Had she gone with her brothers?
He was just about to rise when the back door creaked open. Lara stepped inside, followed by Grandpa Jethru, Teacher Samuel, Sandoz, and Ivan—still damp with sweat from morning training. Little Ivy was still sleeping, tucked safely beneath woolen quilts upstairs.
"Grandpa. Teacher Samuel," Alaric greeted them with genuine respect.
Samuel smiled warmly. "We were practicing in the backyard. Forgive us for not welcoming you properly, Your Highness."
"No need for formalities," Alaric said, before his gaze found Lara once more. "I’m here to discuss the children’s future."
Jethru and Samuel exchanged a look, then nodded in quiet agreement.
"Whatever you decide, Your Highness," Samuel said, "you’ll have our support."
Alaric exhaled softly and said, "I plan to have them escorted back to where they came from—every child taken from their village deserves the chance to return."
The masters nodded. It was a good decision.
Lara was lost in her thoughts, her expression unreadable.
Was it time to send Sandoz back?