Azriel lifted the teacup to his lips, letting the fragrant steam curl around his face before taking a slow sip. Rich aroma and delicate flavor blossomed across his palate, sending his taste buds dancing.
'Why is the tea in this world so much better than back home?'
It tasted heavenly—he wanted another cup. But he couldn't lose composure now.
To his right sat Jasmine; across from him, Ragnar lounged beside Thomas. They were back in the coffee shop where he'd polished off Solomon's absurd pancake tower before following Jasmine to the park.
Azriel listened quietly while Jasmine thanked Ragnar for bringing her brother home.
The attention felt… embarrassing—but in a good way. He'd missed moments like these.
'Though now I'm the youngest in the family.'
That irritated him—just a little.
"…You'll be seeing your parents sooner than planned, Azriel," Ragnar said at last.
Azriel raised a brow.
"An emergency," Ragnar continued. "The Kings are returning immediately—so are we. Communications with Europe resumed a few minutes ago, everyone except Western Europe. Reports say every military base in France…"
A knot tightened in Azriel's stomach.
"…has been wiped out."
*****
Since Azriel's death, the days had blurred for Aeliana—one colorless week bleeding into the next.
She replayed his childhood on a loop: the sound of his laugh, the wobble of his first steps, those endless questions fired off in breathless wonder. Each memory struck like a blade glancing off bone.
Losing a child was losing a piece of your soul. Grief seeped into the marrow and settled. Colors dimmed; other people's laughter sounded like echoes from a universe she no longer belonged to.
She would have given anything to hug him once more, to listen properly, to say I love you every single day.
Why had he insisted on going at that base with Joaquin? What had he been thinking?
She still had no answer.
Now she examined herself in a full‑length mirror. A sleek black dress hugged her frame; every blond strand was pinned into an immaculate bun. Guests had been expected today, but an hour ago an urgent summons disrupted the plan. She and Joaquin would head out together instead.
'I can't stay broken forever.'
Two years had passed. It was time to stand up. Time to mend what remained. Her relationship with Jasmine was frayed nearly to snapping. That was her fault—and hers to repair.
Aeliana drew a steadying breath, slapped both cheeks lightly—Wake up—and stepped into the hallway. Servants bowed as she passed.
Descending the stairs, she found Joaquin already waiting. He rose with quiet confidence, dressed in a midnight‑black tuxedo, silver hair tied back. His rare smile—saved for family—flashed, and her heart betrayed her yet again.
'Unfair.'
She smoothed the skirt of her dress, determined not to swoon this time, when the front door clicked open.
Jasmine stepped into the foyer.
Home? So early? Aeliana had thought she would remain at the academy or anywhere but here.
Joaquin looked just as puzzled. Words rose in Aeliana's throat, but stalled when she met her daughter's gaze.
There was still ice there—yet something warmer, too. A tentative smile tugged at Jasmine's lips.
Ba‑dump.
Footsteps sounded behind her.
Step—
Servants paused, heads turning.
Step—
A young man entered, sunlight at his back.
Aeliana's vision blurred. That smile. Those eyes. The way he looked at his parents first, as though anchoring himself to them.
Her youngest child.
Azriel.
Tears spilled before she could speak. Joaquin's breath caught. Jasmine's small smile blossomed into something fragile and bright.
"It's been a while… Mom, Dad."