[Rynthall Estate—Later]
Callen was still groaning somewhere down the hallway, being dragged—half willingly, half screaming—by Alphanso and Marcel. Seraphina had made it abundantly clear that any rescue attempts were purely for preserving his very fragile life, not for his dignity.
Back in the nursery, Seraphina flopped into a chair like a storm cloud finally taking a seat. Her fiery hair seemed to bristle with pure indignation. "That bastard," she fumed, slamming a fist on the armrest.
"If I see him again, I SWEAR I WILL TURN HIM INTO MINCEMEAT!!!"
Lucein and Empress Elise exchanged a slow, synchronized sigh. Elysia, however, found the entire spectacle hilarious, letting out a bright little giggle that echoed off the walls.
Seraphina’s glare immediately softened when it landed on the tiny hurricane in Lucein’s arms. Before he could react, she snatched Elysia up like a prized trophy. "And you, my little tornado," she cooed, pressing their cheeks together dramatically, "did you like watching your Auntie reduce a man to a pulp?"
Elysia blinked, then erupted in a delighted, sparkling giggle. Her tiny hands clapped against Seraphina’s chest, as if applauding her aunt’s ferocity. Seraphina’s eyes gleamed with theatrical triumph.
Leaning back slightly, she lowered her voice to a mock-serious whisper that somehow carried the weight of centuries of battle: "Listen, darling... if you ever find a man who thinks he can toy with you, never hesitate. You hit first... and harder."
Elysia’s eyes narrowed, her little chin jutting forward, and she nodded with absolute solemnity—as if she truly understood the sacred code of tomato-making.
Lucein, still holding his empty arms like a disgruntled caretaker, muttered under his breath, "I swear, this child is going to have the bloodthirst of three alphas by the time she’s walking."
Empress Elise chuckled, her hand lightly tapping Lucien’s shoulder. "She’s already taking notes, darling. I think you just witnessed the birth of the empire’s tiniest, fiercest enforcer."
Seraphina tilted her head at Elysia and smirked. "Good. Because Auntie will not be the only one handing out lessons in... tactical elbow strikes and swift justice."
Elysia squealed in delight and tried to swipe at Seraphina’s fingers, her giggles echoing like a tiny battle drum. Seraphina laughed, holding the child up high. "Yes! That’s the spirit! One day, you will turn entire armies into... rotten tomatoes!"
Lucein groaned, rubbing his temples. "Oh great... I’ve created a tiny tyrant. First the empire, next our living room. She’s unstoppable."
Empress Elise laughed, holding onto her own son tightly, whose wide eyes followed the chaos in horror. "At least she’s learning from the best," she said, watching Elysia clap her little hands with glee, utterly mesmerized by the theatrics.
Seraphina’s sharp gaze flicked between Lucein and the Empress, a sly grin forming at the corner of her mouth. "So... what exactly were you two scheming about while I was... busy turning Callen into a tomato?"
Elise leaned back, her eyes narrowing into deadly serious slits, though her voice carried a deadly deadpan lilt. "I THINK... our husbands are having an affair."
Lucein choked mid-breath, coughing so violently he nearly flung Elysia across the room. "W-what? Wait... we... we discussed that?" His ears flushed bright red as he tried to untangle the thought from his befuddled brain.
Elise’s nod was slow, deliberate, and terrifyingly solemn. "Yes. Since our husbands have been meeting secretly... under the guise of empire business... they must be—"
Her eyes suddenly widened, hands flying to her cheeks in horror, and her voice escalated to a near-shriek. "I... I THINK THEY ARE CHEATING ON US, LUCEIN!!!"
Lucein froze entirely, Elysia clapping innocently in his lap, completely oblivious to the melodrama erupting around her. Seraphina leaned close, whispering under her breath with a smirk. "Did... did she drink something? Maybe tea spiked with insanity?"
Lucein waved his hands helplessly. "I... I don’t recall adding any secret spirits to her tea! She is completely sober. Unless... she’s naturally... this?" His voice trailed off as he considered the terrifying possibility.
Seraphina’s nod was slow, deliberate, and full of mock horror. "Then she is definitely crazy. Absolutely certified."
Lucein sighed, running a hand down his face, the weight of the world pressing down on him as his voice lowered into a grave whisper. "I’m telling you... there is something going on in the empire. Something... important... something that cannot be spoken aloud. It’s bigger than gossip, bigger than rumors. They just... can’t tell us yet."
Elise’s fake tears glimmered in the sunlight streaming through the nursery windows. She dabbed at them dramatically, letting her lip quiver in exquisite, theatrical agony. "I... I hope it’s true," she whispered, voice trembling with exaggerated despair. "I hope... there really is a scandal somewhere so that my outrage has meaning."
Seraphina snorted, tossing her head back in laughter. "Darling, if this is the best scandal you can imagine, we are doomed. You’d better buckle up, because the empire’s secrets are darker, messier, and far more ridiculous than this."
Lucein leaned back on the couch, Elysia still perched happily in his lap, and muttered, "I swear, I’m going to need therapy, wine, and possibly a knight just to survive this conversation."
The nursery door burst open again—slamming against the wall with such force that Elysia flinched in Lucein’s arms.
But this time, it wasn’t a knight in shining armor.
It was Callen.
And he looked... awful. His uniform was torn, a bandage wrapped hastily around his head, fresh bruises marking his jaw. He was limping—just slightly—but enough for Seraphina to notice.
"You bastard, what—" she began, voice sharp with irritation, but the rest of her words died in her throat as soon as she saw his expression. It wasn’t his wounds that made her pause—it was his eyes.
Wide. Frantic. The kind of look you only get when the ground has been yanked out from under you.
Her tone shifted instantly, low and dangerous. "What’s the matter?"
Callen stepped inside, shutting the door behind him with more force than necessary. His chest rose and fell rapidly, his voice breaking slightly as he spoke.
"My lord..." he addressed Lucein directly, almost ignoring the rest of the room. "...We received an urgent message from the Imperial Palace."
The Empress straightened, her son instinctively pressing his little face into her neck. "From the palace? What is it?"
Callen’s gaze never left Lucein. "The northern border has been attacked."
The words hung in the air like a blade about to fall.
Everyone rose to their feet—almost in unison.
He went on, his tone grimmer with every word. "The neighboring kingdom has crossed into our territory... troops are already mobilizing. Civilians—" his jaw clenched, "—some are missing. The Emperor commands immediate action. Grand Duke Silas..." he paused, looking Lucein directly in the eye, "...is to lead the expedition."
Lucein’s eyes widened, the world narrowing down to that single sentence.
The Empress’s grip on her son tightened as she turned to him. "Lucein—" her voice cracked with urgency, "—I need to leave immediately." She didn’t wait for a reply; she swept out of the room, skirts billowing, her son clinging to her like a lifeline.
The air felt heavier when the door shut.
Seraphina’s voice cut through the silence, flat but edged with steel. "Don’t tell me... he’s going to war."
Callen’s shoulders dropped, the fight seeming to drain from him. "...Yes. You’re right, Lady Seraphina. Grand Duke Silas has been ordered to depart for the North—immediately."
Lucein didn’t move. Didn’t speak. He just stood there, holding Elysia as if she might slip away if he loosened his grip for even a moment. She tilted her small face up at him, confused by the sudden, suffocating tension in the room.
Finally, his voice came out—low, almost a whisper. "How many days?"
Callen blinked. "...Pardon?"
Lucein’s gaze hardened, his question sharper this time. "How many days will he be gone?"
Callen hesitated, his lips parting... and then closing again. "...We don’t know, my lord. He’s going to war. There is no telling when it will end. Sometimes..." his eyes flickered away, "...it ends in weeks or months and Sometimes... it takes years."
The silence that followed wasn’t empty—it was thick, heavy with the weight of words unsaid.
Lucein’s throat worked, but no sound came. His arms tightened around Elysia, pulling her small, warm body closer to his chest. Her tiny fingers curled instinctively into the folds of his robe, as if she could sense the invisible storm looming over them. Even at her age, she seemed to know—something was wrong. Something terrible.
He swallowed hard, forcing his voice to work. "Alright... then... let’s prepare for his departure."
Callen’s jaw clenched, but he gave a sharp nod, his voice steady despite the tension in his eyes. "As you command, my lord." With that, he turned and strode out, the heavy doors shutting with a sound that echoed far longer than it should have.
Silence draped over the chamber like a shroud.
Lucein lowered himself into the nearest chair, the weight of the moment pressing down on his shoulders until his posture sagged. His fingers absently stroked Elysia’s hair as if memorizing the feel of it—soft, silken, safe.
Seraphina approached quietly, her steps measured, her gaze soft but searching. "Are you... alright?" she asked, though her tone carried the knowledge that he wasn’t.
He forced a short nod, his lips curling into something that was almost a smile but didn’t quite make it there. "Yes... I’m good. I just—" His voice faltered, breaking on the next words. His eyes drifted to Elysia’s tiny face, her lashes fanned against her cheeks in perfect innocence. "...I just never thought I’d have to raise our daughter alone."
The words hung there, trembling in the air, heavy with the dread of what was to come.