The fire crackled low in Alaric's study.
Alaric leaned back in his chair, half-turned toward the window. It was one of those rare moments when his armor was set aside, replaced by the quieter weight of thought.
The door opened.
Aidan stepped in, closing it behind him.
He didn't bow, didn't stand on formality. He simply walked forward with that familiar ease of two decades of friendship.
"How's Daphne?" Aidan asked, leaning against the desk.
His voice was calm, but there was a thread of genuine concern in it.
Alaric looked up, his sharpness softening at the question. "She's fine."
Aidan nodded. "Good. Everyone worries, you know Daphne never writes enough to calm our nerves."
A quiet breath left Alaric. Then he said, "She's pregnant."
Aidan froze, then his face broke into sheer delight.
He let out a laugh, stepping forward to grip Alaric by the shoulders before pulling him into a firm embrace.
"That's the best news I've heard in years! Congratulations, brother."
