Draven, holding the babies, arrives at his parents' room and opens the door with a careful nudge of his shoulder, mindful not to jostle the sleeping infants in his arms. The polished brass handle clicks softly as the door swings inward.
"Mom?" he calls out, his voice low but firm.
Walking inside, his boots fall softly against the marble floor. The room is quiet, still. He calls out again, scanning the empty space as tension creeps across his brow.
"Mom? Looks like she isn't here."
She's supposed to be resting, god dammit! The thought cuts sharp through his mind, his jaw tightening. Where the hell did she go?
He glances down at Elenya, nestled in the crook of his arm, her tiny face serene.
"Ele, looks like Mommy isn't here," he murmurs.
He shifts his weight slightly and looks toward Aldric, who stands silently a few paces away, ever watchful.
"Hey, dude. Find out where my mother is—and quick."
Aldric nods silently, the folds of his cloak shifting as he vanishes in a flash, leaving nothing but a faint whisper of wind in his wake.
It's gonna take a while for him to find her. We can't just wait here, Draven thinks, already turning and stepping back out of the room. His pace is brisk but careful.
As he moves down the hallway, he passes Lyriana, who is gently rocking Lucifer in her arms. The infant is quiet, eyes wide, tiny fingers curled against her chest.
"Hey, Luci, come on," Draven says. "Let's go look for Mom somewhere else."
They walk side by side, the soft tap of footsteps echoing lightly through the corridor. Elenya stirs in his arms—one small hand reaching up to grab a handful of his hair, the other pinching his nose with surprising precision.
"Yes, Ele, you too. I didn't forget about you," he says, chuckling softly.
He winces as she pulls harder.
"But if you keep pulling like that, you aren't only gonna tear off my nose—you'll make me bald as well."
A while later, they find themselves in a parlor room, modestly lit by natural light pouring through high, arched windows. The air smells faintly of old parchment and lilac oil. Draven glances around.
"Mom isn't here either," he mutters, turning to leave. "Let's go look somewhere else."
"Young Master, if I may," Lyriana says calmly, adjusting Lucifer's weight in her arms with practiced ease, "I think it would be best to remain here a while. Aldric won't know where to find us if we keep wandering. He might already be searching the halls for you."
Draven stops in his tracks. He exhales slowly, the tension in his shoulders easing just a fraction.
"Hm. Guess you're right," he concedes. "Okay, let's wait here for—"
"There you are, Your Highness! I've been looking all over," Aldric says, his voice sharp but measured as he appears suddenly in the doorway. His cloak settles behind him like a shadow falling into place.
Hmm… did she know he was coming, or is it a coincidence? Draven wonders, suspicion flickering briefly in his eyes. But he brushes it aside.
"Did you find my mother?"
"Yes, Your Highness," Aldric replies, nodding. "Your mother waits outside in the garden pavilion—with the King."
Hmm. She's outside with Dad? Draven thinks, surprised. What is the old man thinking? She's supposed to be resting!
He looks down at Elenya, who gurgles up at him with innocent delight.
"Ele, let's go meet Mommy and Daddy outside."
---
The scene shifts.
The sky hung heavy with thick, rolling clouds, casting a muted, silvery light over the garden—a surreal contrast to the deep gray heavens above.
In the center of the garden, nestled beneath the ornate arch of a dark stone pavilion, Draven's parents are seated together. The air carries the sweet, faint scent of blooming jasmine and damp earth.
Elliana is sipping tea, the porcelain cup balanced lightly in her hand. Her legs rest comfortably across Kaelen's lap, her posture relaxed, her face calm.
Kaelen, having just finished peeling an apple with the ease of practiced hands, carefully slices off a piece and lifts it to her lips. She accepts it with a soft smile, chewing slowly.