The Darsha estate was abuzz that day with warmth and noise, the sort of bedlam only infants could manage. Servants rushed across corridors, nobles popped in to offer greetings, and the household itself appeared to vibrate with activity. Sharath came after another grueling session of territorial strategy, half-tired but grinning the instant he heard unmistakable baby laughter ringing through the estate.
He stepped into Lady Ishvari's chamber and found her sitting gracefully, the twins resting against a pile of soft pillows. The little ones waved their arms like tiny generals commanding invisible armies. One was already trying to gnaw on his blanket, while the other was staring wide-eyed at the ceiling as if plotting the conquest of the chandeliers.
"Ah, my little warriors," Sharath whispered theatrically, advancing. "One day you'll lead legions, but today you lead my spare time."
He scooped the babies up, one per arm, and promptly staggered.
🐧NeuroBoop: "Well done. Two babies. Double the drool. Double the likelihood of spontaneous eruption from either end. Truly, your best dungeon ever."
Sharath rolled his eyes, but his lips betrayed a smile. He bounced the twins softly, producing squeaks of giggles. Lady Ishvari cocked her head. "They love you," she said softly, a glow of pride lighting her eyes.
"Of course they do," Sharath retorted, puffing his chest. "I am the most fun uncle-brother-future caretaker-inventor they're ever going to have."
🐧NeuroBoop: "Translation: walking circus."
Sharath did not pay attention to that.
He played with them for an hour—constructing minute block fortresses, making raspberry faces that made the twins shriek, and theatrically pretending to fall over whenever one of them pulled his hair. When he put them down, his arms were aching, his hair was tousled, and his dignity rather bruised.
Then arrived the time he had been waiting for. He opened a tiny box and produced the shining protection jewelry he had retrieved from the dungeon: two tiny pendants, gently glowing with magic. He leaned forward and gently wrapped them around the twins' necks.
The result was immediate—the light decreased a bit, the magic settling into the new hosts.
Lady Ishvari scowled. "Sharath… what did you just place on them?"
Sharath shot up his hand fast. "Hear me out before you chide me. These pendants are protective talismans. They'll protect the twins from harm—magical, physical, or even crashing chandeliers."
🐧NeuroBoop: "Yes, since chandeliers are the empire's number one baby predator. Forget wolves, it's wandering interior design."
His lips quivered once more, and he had to cough to mask it. "Don't take them off, then. They're not mere jewelry—they're protectors.
Lord Varundar, who had been listening with a quiet intensity, narrowed his eyes. "Artifacts, you claim? Where did you acquire them?"
"Dungeon," Sharath said shortly, as if that was all one needed to know.
Lord Varundar massaged his temples. "You handle dungeon booty like extra playthings, Sharath."
"Correction," Sharath said, raising a finger. "I handle dungeon booty like blessings. Very utilitarian blessings."
🐧NeuroBoop: "Translation: He stashes shinies like a magpie."
Before.s parents could object more, Sharath produced the last two items of loot: the final protective necklace and the magic ring. He gave the necklace to Lady Ishvari with a flourish.
"This one belongs to you, Mother. A gift of protection from me. Now you'll always have a part of my dungeon loot with you to keep you safe."
Lady Ishvari took it hesitantly, blinking away a combination of annoyance and laughter. "Sharath, this isn't exactly a suitable gift for a lady of my station—"
The twins chattered then, the small hands grasping for the shining pendant.
Lady Ishvari laughed, her reluctance shattering in an instant. "—but if they like it, then so do I."
Lastly, Sharath turned to his father, gripping the ring between the fingers as if it were a crown jewel. "And this, Father… is for you. A ring of spatial storage and personal protection."
Lord Varundar looked puzzled. "A ring? You want me to wear adornment?
Sharath shoved it into his father's palm persistently. "Yes. Consider it. a battlefield advantage. No more carrying ledgers and scrolls around—you can keep them in there. And if someone attempts to kill you, it will save your life."
🐧NeuroBoop: "Because nothing says 'masculine duke' like accessorizing."
Sharath's lips curled again. His father scowled. "Something amusing, son?"
Sharath coughed hard. "No, no, just thinking about how well this ring suits you! As if it were made for you, Father. Very regal."
Lord Varundar reluctantly put it on, grumbling, "This is absurd." But the small smile pulling at his lips revealed his hidden satisfaction.
Dinner that night was spirited. The twins, newly adorned with warding pendants, were the centerpieces at the table. Lady Ishvari lambasted Sharath continuously for smuggling dungeon trinkets into their home life, but all could tell she was secretly moved. Lord Varundar fussed with his new ring at times, making as if he didn't care, but Sharath caught him experimenting with the spatial pocket by hiding bread rolls within.
🐧NeuroBoop: "Yes, indeed a powerful duke—master of the legendary Infinite Bread Ring."
Sharath had to stifle a laugh into his soup. He managed to cover by making a loud gasping sound as if he were choking on a carrot.
The night concluded warmly, the family closer than ever. Sharath sat back in his chair, observing his parents and the twins, and felt the uncommon gratification of knowing that his dungeon anarchy had, for once, generated peace rather than strife.
🐧NeuroBoop: "Don't worry. The issues are loading. Hold on."
Sharath inwardly groaned. He knew for certain the AI was correct.