The moment she stepped forward, the distance between them vanished in a flash of pure emotion.
Siegfried didn't wait.
"My baby girl!"
He closed the gap in two long strides and pulled her into a firm, overwhelming embrace. One powerful arm wrapped tightly around her shoulders while the other pressed protectively against her back, as if he needed to reassure himself that she was truly there.
"You're back! You're finally back! I've missed you so much!"
"…I missed you too, Father." Her voice came out softer than expected, slightly muffled against his chest. Her fingers hesitated for a moment before gently curling into the fabric of his coat.
Siegfried exhaled heavily, the intense relief slipping out of him like a breath he had been holding for far too long.
"Every single day you were gone felt like an eternity!" he continued, pulling back just enough to look at her. "The estate was too quiet! The gardens looked sad! Even the ocean seemed dimmer without my daughter's radiant presence!"
"Father!" Sora's cheeks flushed with a mix of deep embarrassment and exasperation.
"My friends kept asking where you were, and I had to tell them—" His voice wavered dramatically, a hand rising to his forehead in a gesture of theatrical despair. "—that my precious daughter was far away, studying, growing up, and leaving her old father behind to wither away in loneliness!"
"Stop exaggerating!"
"Exaggerating? This is restraint, Sora. The worry we bottled up for our innocent daughter's well-being knows absolute bounds."
Sora opened her mouth to argue, but then closed it again. Beneath the noisy theatrics, she could tell his underlying concern was painfully real.
Cecilia's soft voice drifted in from the side, "He really has been quite insufferable," she said with a fond sigh, though her smile betrayed her. "But he was right about how deeply worried we were."
"Father… Mother…" A faint, delicate tremor slipped into her voice. "I'm sorry."
She glanced between them, her eyes glistening. "Please forgive your daughter for not coming home sooner… and for worrying you both like that."
The words landed softly, but their weight was immediate. Siegfried's expression shifted, grounding itself. The theatrics peeled back entirely, revealing a much heavier truth beneath.
He lifted a hand, placing it gently atop her head. "…Don't worry, daughter. Despite our parental concern… we understand."
"We understand how much that child's tragic fate changed you."
The words landed heavily. The room seemed to dim emotionally, like a dark shadow passing over a bright memory.
"Don't forget," he continued, his tone dropping quieter, "Cecilia and I… were also deeply impacted by that day." His jaw tightened. "Not only did we lose our closest friends… we weren't even able to protect the boy we considered our other child."
A dense, pressing silence stretched across the bedroom. Then, Siegfried's voice dropped dangerously low. "That absolute madman! I'll make sure to destroy his very existence, even if I have to search through the deepest depths of hell to root out his whereabouts."
"Father…!" Sora's voice cracked.
Her sky-blue eyes glistened as tears gathered faster than she could suppress them. The memory wasn't a distant one; she could still recall the choking scent of madness and blood, and the blurry face of the boy she had promised to save.
"Siegfried," Cecilia's voice cut through the tension—soft, but incredibly firm.
Siegfried glanced at his wife. She shook her head just a fraction, silently communicating her thoughts: Just say what you wanted to say. There is no need to dredge up that harrowing past.
An understanding passed between them instantly. The rigid tension in the Duke's shoulders eased just enough. He exhaled a long breath, then reached out to playfully ruffle Sora's pristine white hair, providing a gentle, grounding touch.
"My baby girl," he said, his voice lighter now, though the solemn weight hadn't fully left his eyes. "What I am trying to say is… do not walk the dark path of revenge yourself. Leave that burden to us."
Cecilia stepped forward. She lifted her hand, cupping Sora's cheek with quiet tenderness. "He is right, my sweetheart." Her thumb brushed gently beneath Sora's eye, catching a tear right before it could fall. "They matter to us just as much as they matter to you."
"So please… do not push yourself too far in pursuit of an indistinct hope. And come home more often."
That last sentence carried a quiet, underlying weight of its own.
"Do you know how dispirited your father was," Cecilia added lightly, a playful glint returning to her eyes, "when he found out you went straight to the Divine Sanctum to train further instead of returning home after your academic break?"
"Mother… I—" Sora's voice trembled as a wave of intense guilt washed over her. She had been so single-mindedly intent on growing stronger to keep her personal promise that she had failed to notice how deeply her absence was hurting them.
"Sora, don't listen to your mother," Siegfried cut in immediately, moving far too quickly to defend himself. "It was her who was the most dispirited!"
Cecilia turned her head slowly toward him. "…Excuse me?"
"I was perfectly composed and was a literal pillar of stability." he continued with confidence flair. "Unlike a certain someone who stared out at the front gates every single evening—"
"Oh?" Cecilia's smile sharpened instantly. "And pray tell, who was it that stood outside her empty bedroom door at three o'clock in the morning? Just standing there. Entirely in the dark. Staring at her door?"
"No, no, you must be mistaken. I may be slightly overprotective, but I am certainly not that kind of pitiful father!"
"You are," Cecilia countered smoothly. "Embarrassingly so."
"You…!"
Cecilia crossed her arms. "And on the day she gave us that video call—the one where she told she was heading to the Sanctum instead of coming home—who exactly locked himself in his private study for four crying hours?"
"Ahem. I was strategizing intensely for an upcoming imperial court meeting."
"You were sobbing."
"I-I…" Siegfried was left speechless.
Cecilia flashed a triumphant smile.
"Ah! If we are openly talking about sobbing, didn't you do the exact same thing in our private moments—"
Before the Duke could say anything more, Cecilia smoothly covered his mouth with her hand while offering him a patient, sweet smile. Siegfried instantly began to sweat profusely. It was, after all, his own fault for nearly crossing an embarrassing line in front of their daughter.
Standing in the middle of it all, Sora blinked once, then twice.
A tiny laugh slipped out of her, warm and genuine. She wiped at her glistening eyes.
"You two are unbelievable."
Neither parent responded, far too busy locked in their own intense, silent parental quarrel. Sora lightly coughed to get their attention.
"I am sorry," she said softly.
Siegfried and Cecilia turned to look at her.
"I am sorry for not coming home sooner. I am sorry for making you worry. I am sorry for being blinded by my own personal purpose that I forgot…" Her voice trembled slightly. "…that you were walking your own painful path of worry right behind me."
Silence blanketed the room, and then, Siegfried's expression melted. Without a single word, he opened his arms wide. Cecilia moved closer, her hand naturally finding her husband's.
Sora stepped directly into the warm space between them.
Her arms wrapped tightly around both of them—one hand gripping her father's coat, the other holding onto the fabric of her mother's dress, pulling them into a quiet, firm embrace.
"I am really sorry. And thank you."
...
After their genuine reunion, Sora sat down with them, chatting about her ongoing studies at Eden Academy and various other lighthearted topics.
Siegfried listened intently with his arms crossed and his head tilted, occasionally interjecting with exaggerated gasps of parental horror whenever she mentioned anything remotely dangerous. Cecilia sat much closer, her hand occasionally reaching out to touch Sora's sleeve in a gesture of quiet reassurance.
The tea on the table grew cold, but neither of them noticed.
Siegfried studied his daughter carefully.
Before she had left for the academy, she had resembled a detached and reserved frost. Every word she spoke carried the crushing weight of a solemn resolution, and every glance held the dark shadow of something she was desperately chasing.
Now, she seemed somehow different. As if some invisible, suffocating constraint she hadn't even acknowledged had loosened its grip.
"…You look different," the Duke remarked.
Sora stiffened. "Different how?"
"I don't know." His eyes lingered on her radiant countenance. "Happier, maybe."
Cecilia's smile widened at this. She said nothing, but her eyes sparkled with a quiet knowing.
"That perpetual glow deep in your expression was the same as your mother's when I first courted her,"
"My mother what—"
"And that," the Duke smirked, "is the unmistakable blush of a woman who has been thoroughly, utterly, and hopelessly—"
"—smitten!"
Sora became flustered, "What? How did you—"
"From your reaction. It seems my guess was right. Hahaha. That's good." His voice rang with pleasant jubilation.
"You're not angry?" Sora's voice was small, vulnerable in a way she rarely allowed herself to be.
Siegfried tilted his head. "Why would I be angry?"
"Because…" She hesitated, searching for words that didn't sound as fragile as they felt. "Because I didn't tell you first."
"Oh? So you told your mother first?" His green eyes flicked toward Cecilia with theatrical resignation. "I'm used to it. I've accepted my place as the second-favorite."
"Siegfried," Cecilia sighed, though her smile betrayed her.
"I'm simply stating facts, dear."
"You're being dramatic again."
"I'm being honest."
Cecilia bent over and lightly slapped his arm.
"Ahem. So," Siegfried's tone shifted, his fatherly instict flaring. "tell me about him."
"Eh?"
"About that boy. The one who made my daughter glow. The one who softened her heart." His voice dropped to a mock-serious register. "I need to assess his threat and worthiness level."
"What threat level?"
"Every boy who approaches my daughter is a threat until proven otherwise."
"Indeed," Cecilia joined, smiling with infuriating pleasantness.
"Mother, not you too—"
Siegfried crossed his arms. "Name. Age. Background. Intentions. Family history. Magical affinity. Favorite food. Favorite color. Favorite—"
"Father, you cannot be serious—"
"I am completely serious." His expression turned to unyielding stone. "This is standard protocol for evaluating suitors of the ducal heiress."
"When is there a protocol like that?"
"There is now."
Sora turned to Cecilia with a question mark.
Cecilia stifled her laugh. "He's been rehersing this speech since you turned fourteen."
"Fourteen?!"
"I had to be ready," Siegfried quickly defended himself. "These things sneak up on fathers, my daughter! One day, your daughter is playing with dolls and asking for bedtime stories. The next, she's glowing and blushing about some enigmatic boy who has stolen her heart during a mission I knew nothing about—"
"..."
The distant crash of waves filled the space between their words, rhythmic and endless.
Sora looked at her father for one genuine moment, then gave up
"I am sure you will find him worthy," she said quietly.
"Is that so?." A pause stretched between them. Then, his grand grin returned."—I believe this calls for a celebration!"
"Please don't—"
"Miss Zelni!" Siegfried boomed toward the open doorway, "PREPARE A FEAST! MY DAUGHTER DESERVES IT!"
Combusted beyond recovery, Sora buried her face in her hands
Cecilia laughed—bright, musical, and warm.
From somewhere down the long, ocean-facing corridor, the head maid's composed voice echoed back immediately. "Yes, my lord. Right away."
Siegfried turned back to Sora, his forest-green eyes sparkling with deep curiosity. "We will have a thorough, unhurried talk at dinner. About this mysterious young man."
Sora peeked through her fingers, her hands parting resignation.
Nonetheless, watching her father barely contained excitement, and catching her mother's knowing, supportive smile. she found that she didn't truly mind.
"…Yes, Father."