Valmira Steelhart welcomed them at the entrance of her estate with all the flourish of someone who knew the weight of her name.
She was resplendent in a deep emerald gown, its fabric catching the lamplight as though sewn with jewels.
Her silver hair, swept high and adorned with a simple but striking pin of steel and pearl, framed her regal face.
"Arasha, child," Valmira's voice carried like a bell—rich, commanding, but warm.
She stepped forward and embraced her grandniece with surprising tenderness.
Then her eyes swept toward Kane, assessing, measuring, before inclining her head with a dignified smile.
"And you brought a companion. Good."
The estate itself left both Arasha and Kane still for a heartbeat. It was not the rigid formality of the palace, nor the militaristic severity of the Scion Hold.
Instead, it was something else entirely—stone and glass carved into clean, sweeping lines, wide halls that flowed into lush courtyards.
Every column was etched with artful steel inlays that gleamed faintly in the candlelight, and the high archways seemed almost to invite the sky inside.
"Your eyes tell me enough," Valmira said, noting their awe.
A small smile tugged at her lips. "Steelhart hands built this place, but we learned from foreign artisans as well. Elegance need not bow to tradition."
She gestured for them to follow, leading them into a dining hall where the table stretched long, but had been set intimately with only a few places, the glow of tall silver candelabras casting a golden warmth over polished plates and crystal goblets.
Servants moved quietly, bringing forth dishes that smelled of herbs, roasted meats, and spiced wine.
As they took their seats, Valmira spoke with the ease of one accustomed to directing conversations. "I trust, Arasha, that you were satisfied with the artisans I sent for the Scion Hold renovations before?"
Arasha nodded earnestly. "Yes, Aunt Valmira. They've transformed the place. It made the hold more solid and accessible, making everyone more efficient. I can't thank you enough."
Valmira waved her hand with a dismissive grace. "Nonsense. It is nothing compared to what I should have done for you long ago. I cannot mend the years that tragedy stole, but this at least I could offer."
A softness flickered in Arasha's eyes as she leaned forward. "It wasn't your fault. You didn't know. I was kept in the shadows… and you were all I had left. That I know now, and it's enough."
Valmira's smile deepened, but there was sorrow glinting beneath it, old wounds never fully closed.
Still, she straightened her posture and clapped her hands lightly. "Well. Enough of grief. You are here, and I will not let you go hungry. Eat, both of you. Eat until you've no strength left to lift another fork."
The feast was sumptuous, though Kane barely touched his plate.
He sat quiet, attentive only to Arasha, his gaze tracing every flicker of weariness she thought she had hidden.
Valmira's sharp eyes caught it. She tilted her head, then without warning, asked bluntly, "And tell me—what is this young man to you, Arasha?"
The question struck the air like steel meeting stone.
Arasha didn't flinch, didn't hesitate. She turned to her aunt, her expression soft yet unwavering, and said with complete sincerity,
"He is my everything."
For a moment, silence reigned.
Kane froze, eyes wide, his hand tightening around the goblet.
A flush crept up his neck and across his face until he was a blushing mess, turning his gaze away, ears burning crimson.
Valmira arched a brow, then let out a laugh, full and hearty, echoing through the hall like the ringing of steel.
"Oh! So it's like that. How refreshing to hear such honesty, without riddles or courtly dances."
Arasha only smiled faintly, as though her words were simply truth, needing no embellishment.
Kane, on the other hand, seemed ready to sink into the earth.
Valmira chuckled again, sipping her wine.
"Well, then. The Sera line may have suffered, but perhaps the fates saw fit to grant you something far more precious than that legacy."
Kane risked a glance at Arasha, and though flustered, the sincerity in her words lingered in his heart like fire, warming something long shadowed by fear.
The feast drew to a close with laughter and lingering warmth, the golden glow of candles still flickering in the polished silver.
Valmira dabbed her lips with a cloth, then leaned back in her chair with an air of satisfaction.
Her sharp gaze shifted toward Kane, who had barely recovered from his earlier blush.
"Well then," she said decisively, her voice carrying no room for argument, "a heart-to-heart is long overdue. You and I, young man."
Kane nearly choked on his last sip of wine. His eyes darted to Arasha, full of disbelief, as though she had personally betrayed him. "What—?!"
Arasha, barely holding in her laughter, nodded.
"Go on, Kane. Don't worry, it's just part of getting to know your soon-to-be relative."
His mouth fell open. "Soon-to-be—Arasha!"
But Valmira was already standing, one elegant hand on his shoulder, steering him with surprising strength for a woman of her years.
"Come along. I promise I won't bite. Much."
Arasha couldn't help it—she burst into a soft chuckle when her aunt shot her a mischievous wink before dragging Kane toward a side chamber. As if the whole act was planned, but it was done mostly on instinct on Valmira's part.
Kane's expression of utter betrayal as he was pulled away only made her grin wider.
Once the two disappeared, Arasha excused herself politely. A maid, graceful and quiet, led her through arching hallways into the estate's gardens.
There, the night air embraced her.
The garden stretched wide, lined with manicured hedges, fragrant blossoms, and marble benches set beneath tall lanterns that glowed softly.
Arasha chose one of the benches and sat, tilting her head back to take in the sky.
It was a clear expanse of stars—silver-white and endless.
So different from the eerie green sky of the realm where the shaman had spoken to her. She touched her chest unconsciously, feeling the weight of the vow she had made.
Now and forever… beside Kane. For myself, yes, but also for all the Arashas who never had the chance. I will honor them. I will not waste this life.
Her lips curved faintly as her thoughts returned to the way Kane had looked earlier—eyes wide, ears crimson, struck dumb by her unhesitating words.
She grinned.
"So easy to surprise," she murmured softly to the stars.
A thought took root then, firm and bright.
If she truly intended to bind her fate to Kane's, she could not wait idly. She needed to act. And who better to help than her formidable great-grand aunt?
I'll ask her to make the ring… and to help me arrange the wedding.
Her brow furrowed slightly. Funds—she had none to spare, not personally.
But she did have a resource of value: the mithril mine she had stumbled across, a discovery that still sat quietly under the Scion Order's name.
The land, once dismissed as barren and donated with feigned generosity by some noble seeking the Crown's approval, had yielded something extraordinary.
If she offered special access to it only for her aunt it should be enough to reel in her Aunt's help. Since her aunt Valmira would have the means to secure everything needed and more, surely the plan will be smooth.
Arasha leaned back against the bench, her mind racing with the plan.
Her heart, however, was calm—warm with anticipation. This time, she would not let hesitation steal her chance.