The study was completely silent, save for the soft, ticking sound of the grandfather clock and the faint crackle of the frost sublimating back into the air.
Kaelus stood entirely still.
He was breathing heavily, his chest heaving under his clothes. The adrenaline of the confrontation was fading, leaving behind the raw, bleeding edges of his resurrected trauma.
He had faced his family. He had faced the siblings who abandoned him.
His grip on Seraphina was incredibly tight, almost desperate, as if he were terrified she would vanish if he let go.
Seraphina didn't squirm.
She didn't complain about the tight grip.
She reached up with her small, warm hands and gently, softly placed them on both sides of his pale face.
Kaelus blinked, pulling his gaze away from the empty doorway, looking down at the dark, bottomless, understanding eyes of his daughter.
"Papa," Seraphina said, her voice soft, melodic, and entirely devoid of her previous arrogant swagger.
