She wasn’t complaining about it being just six months.
How could she when this was technically a surprise boon?
In fact, she was thankful to learn that it had been just six months, not the five life-changing years she had expected.
But for them, who had practically mourned everyone outside, it felt surreal.
Her own hands still rembered the ache of digging invisible graves and the silence of losing hope, only to be told that it hadn’t even been that long.
Ten days here ant one day outside. And if there was one thing that this knowledge had given her, it was the fact that she could catch up to her husband’s ti with Luca like this.
She was like a bouncing ball. Thought the Butler, who was observing her closely. Now, this was sothing he was familiar with.
That look in her eyes and her ability to bounce back. Duchess Alia had always been like this, and coupled with her husband? Butler Gary thought they were the most persistent bunch despite having shit for luck.
And yet look at them now?
The sa ’ti’ that brought them apart was slowly bringing them together.
Now, all he hoped was for the Duke outside to survive their hopefully montary disappearance, or they’re going to have a serious problem.
And he was likely right to worry about this, but maybe only once this particular Duke realizes that sothing had gone awfully wrong.
For now, it was Baron Ray Firth who should be saying prayers.
Not that they would ever be accepted.
Unlike the prayers of a certain little golden dragon who was trying to see if those bioluminescent berries would be sothing they could take with them.
"Brother, what about we just take a few?" Ollie whispered like a guilty child in a candy store, his eyes wide and hands twitching toward the glowing fruits near the lake’s edge.
He and Luca crouched beside a patch of bioluminescent berries that pulsed gently, like heartbeats. They didn’t dare touch them yet—only stared, calculating.
"But brother, how long would they stay fresh? What if they rot before we get ho?" Asked the worried money grubber, who, simultaneously, worried that those raging roots would damage the goods if they were just left here.
"Well, they are technically spiritual fruits, right? Shouldn’t these last for a long ti, then?" Thought Ollie, who was even willing to offer a jar of spiritual water to see if they could maybe keep it there?
"Brother, do you have more containers?" Luca thought of sothing else. If anything, had Jax been there, it would’ve likely been his first thought.
"???"
Ollie blinked. Then grinned.
"Yes, what kind would you like?" Asked the temporary store, who was proud of his growing collection.
"Big enough to plant a few of these!" Luca and Ollie looked at each other, and Xavier could swear he could hear the giggling of two little dwarves who had figured sothing out.
Their antics carried over the hollow in a warm undercurrent, drawing glances and chuckles from the two observing giants.
Technically, Kyle was having flashbacks of what scary thing might co out from this again, while his boss was of the opposite mind.
Xavier, who had just finished wiping residual spores off their other supplies, let the sound soothe him.
There was sothing deeply grounding about seeing Luca laugh like that—his smile lit like sunbeams, as if they hadn’t nearly been skewered to oblivion a few hours ago.
But even the Prince couldn’t shake the sensation that soone, sowhere, was watching them.
"Your Grace," Gary said quietly from beside her, as if hesitant to break the silence she’d steeped herself in.
She inhaled slowly. "I thought I’d never hear that from anyone else again. If not for your sister calling that, I would’ve likely forgotten the sound of it."
"And how could you not ask about your sister, Butler Gary?!" Teased the Duchess, who didn’t even break her stare.
"It’s because you’re alive, Your Grace. And if that were the case, that ans that you’ve kept that witch mostly alive and well, too," affird the butler, who was confident about this matter.
They were loyal to the House of Kyros mainly because of the character of their leaders. The type that would not abandon their subordinates for their personal safety and would even risk it for their dead bodies.
Also, that witch had a knack for staying alive. If there was soone who’d likely pass earlier here, it would likely be him, as that sister of his just could not be shaken.
"Don’t flatter . I almost failed," she scoffed, rembering how they had almost died several tis, forcing her to decide to try and solo that monster.
"But you didn’t. And Your Grace, you really haven’t. Not as a leader, not as a wife, and definitely not as a mother."
Her lips pressed together. "Do I deserve to co back? After all this ti?"
Butler Gary t her gaze. "That’s not for you to decide anymore. Your son’s here. Your family’s waiting. Don’t rob them of what you both deserve."
That silenced her. But only for a mont.
"Spoken like a true wizard, Butler Gary." She joked. But he was right. If she continued like this, then she’d be an actual failure, robbing her son of the ability to choose.
"He grew up," she murmured.
"He did. Into soone you’d be proud of."
She smiled faintly. "I already am. Always have been."
She was proud of the boy who had been able to hold on for years and of the child who had managed to open his heart despite everyone’s failures.
Then, with a quiet exhale that sounded more like a surrender, she rose to her feet.
"I want to see him," she said again.
The relieved butler straightened. "Then let’s go, Your Grace."
And as they descended from the ridge, the faint shimr of the lake below welcod them.
The Duchess was filled with questions about what to say or do.
How would she introduce herself to her son?
How does one talk to teens?
And more importantly, how does she wipe off the smile on her face so she doesn’t look like the person that parents warn their children about?
Luca turned at the sound of footsteps, his eyes catching the faint glint of armor.
And sothing stilled in him. He blinked, confused, because she looked so familiar. Like the echo of a song he thought he’d forgotten.
He didn’t say anything at first.
Neither did she.
But the silence was shattered when their eyes t—his wide with wonder, hers misted with the weight of mory.
For all the things she thought about and the words she could say to greet him, the Duchess, with all her supposed eloquence, blanked out.
"Hi," was what she said, voice breaking.
And Luca, eyes wide and breath caught, offered a smile—small at first, like the fragile bloom of sothing long buried. It trembled at the edges, unsure, but slowly widened into sothing steady and full of warmth.
Not quite understanding.
Not quite mory.
But sothing inside him knew. Knew this presence, this feeling, this impossible thread reconnecting.
"Hi."
And frankly, it was a greeting that was thirteen long years in the making.
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