The drafty corridor outside Sylaris's bedchambers felt colder than ever, the northern wind whistling through the narrow arrow-slits of the fortress. Zaliyah had been standing on the floor for more than two hours now, the chill seeping through the soles of his boots and settling deep within his bones.
His knuckles were faintly red, raw from the repetitive, gentle tapping he had been practicing against the door. He wasn't used to this. He was a creature of a silent court raised in an environment governed strictly by protocols and noble etiquette. The nuanced emotional landscape of a sulking five-year-old child was a maze he didn't know how to navigate.
Whenever he tried to search his mind for guidance, attempting to recall how normal parents handled an angry, stubborn child, his memory came up completely empty. The past was a blur of shadows. He had entirely forgotten any memories of Riosuka consoling an angry, sulking Riru during their youth; those moments were lost to time.
Instead, the only blueprint he possessed was from his own unconventional upbringing. He could only remember the rare occasions where he himself had grown upset. In those moments, Karas would gently knock on his door, offering endless soft apologies in that calming voice of his.
Karas would patiently bribe Zaliyah with delicate silks imported from the south, rare books, poetry, and antique ornaments until the emotional storm finally passed and all was forgiven.
But Zaliyah knew Sylaris. The girl was half his blood, yet she possessed a wild spirit that defied the typical noble elegance. She wouldn't want any of those things. The child didn't care for reading, found ornament collecting utterly tedious, and valued her independence above all else. He had already spent the last two hours offering her all her favorite sweets and treats through the keyhole, yet the door remained firmly shut.
He had run out of material offerings. He only had his voice, which still felt raspy, and strained from over crying last night.
"Sylaris..." Zaliyah leaned his forehead against the cold wood of the door, closing his eyes as he kept his tone as soft and soothing as the dark velvet of his robes. "It's Dad. I'm so sorry about yesterday, sweetie. I wasn't angry at you. I promise you, I was just scared. Please, let me in."
Inside the grand room, the little girl remained unmoved by the desperate plea. Sylaris was leaning her back against the opposite side of the door, her tiny arms folded tightly across her chest. Her long, white silk night-robes were pooled around her bare feet, dancing slightly across the floor as she shifted her weight from side to side. She shook her head, her bottom lip pushed out so far in a pout that it could practically touch her nose.
She was sulking, fiercely proud, and determined to let him suffer out in the cold a little longer to teach him a lesson.
Further down the hall, a small crowd of castle maids had gathered near the spiral staircase. They stood in a anxious cluster, clutching wooden buckets of water and feather dusters, pretending to work but entirely focused on the family drama unfolding before them.
They had spent the better part of the last hour begging Zaliyah to leave the corridor and rest. They offered to coax the little girl out themselves, promising they could lure her with freshly baked honeyed cakes and sweet milk. They tried to reassure the worried father that children always forgot their anger by midday, that it was simply the nature of youth. But Zaliyah couldn't bring himself to move an inch. The weight of parental guilt was too much to bear; he felt as though he had failed her, and he refused to abandon his post until he rectified it.
"Trouble in paradise, huh?"
An amused, distinctly loud voice shattered the silence of the corridor. Zaliyah didn't even need to look up to recognize the confident click of those particular leather boots echoing against the walls.
Thalassa marched down the hall, a vibrant, mocking smile plastered across her sharp face. She looked out of place among the dreary, ancient walls of the fortress. She was dressed casually in a crisp white shirt tucked into a pair of tailored, high-waisted navy blue trousers that effortlessly accentuated her long legs. True to her chaotic, unbothered nature, her shirt was left daringly unbuttoned down to the third button, exposing a sparkling view of her cleavage.
The sight immediately caused the younger maids at the end of the hall to blush, swiftly averting their gaze to stare at their shoes.
"Deputy Commander," the maids murmured in unison, hastily bowing their heads in respect as she passed.
Thalassa gave them a lazy, dismissive nod of her head, not breaking her stride as she sauntered directly up to Zaliyah. She leaned her shoulder against the doorframe right next to his head, her striking golden eyes gleaming with mischief.
"Look at you," she teased, "The powerful silver hybrid consort, brought to his knees by a pint-sized terror."
Zaliyah slowly rolled his eyes. He was absolutely not in the mood for Thalassa's annoying, provocative antics right now.
Thalassa giggled, delighted by his clear irritation. She turned her attention away from him and toward the wooden door. Balling her hand into a tight fist, she delivered three loud, aggressive thuds that boomed through the wood and echoed down the whole corridor.
"Hey! Come outside right now, fatso!" Thalassa yelled toward the wood. "Your dad has been crying his eyes out for hours, making a total mess of his pretty face! It's pathetic!"
From inside the room, a screech of unbridled outrage tore through the doors.
"I AM NOT FATTTT!"
Zaliyah blinked, completely stunned. He stood frozen, staring at the door. He had just spent two hours offering beautiful poetry, gentle reassurances, and soft, heartfelt apologies, and the child hadn't uttered a single word in response. Yet, a single insulting word from the Deputy Commander had caused her entire defense to fracture instantly. Zaliyah stared at the wood, a faint smile touching his lips. She must really hate being called fat, he thought.
Thalassa giggled loudly, leaning even closer to the door, enjoying the reaction.
"Oh, really? Well, if you don't open this door and come out right now, little warrior, I am going to take your precious 'Auntie' Iruna away with me. I'll lock her up and you'll never, ever see her again."
The outrageous threat was the final straw for the little girl.
The door swung open with a violent click. Sylaris stood proudly in the threshold, her chest heaving dramatically, her big eyes slightly bloodshot from her morning-long tantrum. She didn't hesitate, she immediately pointed a chubby, trembling finger straight at Thalassa's nose.
"I dare you!" the little girl yelled, her small face turning a bright, furious shade of red. "I dare you to touch her! I will break your legs!"
Zaliyah was stunned, he had no words to say, he had never thought Sylaris could utter such words .
Thalassa didn't look threatened in the slightest. She giggled loudly, stepping right past Zaliyah and kneeling down to the child's eye level. Before Sylaris could swat her away, Thalassa reached out and pinched the child's chubby cheeks, squeezing them until her lips puffed out like a fish.
"You're a feisty little thing, aren't you?" Thalassa laughed, shaking her face gently. "But you shouldn't make your dad look so worried. Look at him over there, he looks like so ugly because of you."
Standing back up to her full height, Thalassa smoothed down her navy trousers and shot Zaliyah a smug, knowing wink. "You owe me a big one, 'Your Highness'."
Zaliyah rolled his eyes one more time, but the suffocating tension that had held his shoulders tight for hours finally dissipated.
He looked at the chaotic woman and muttered a genuine, "Thank you."
The maids at the end of the hall let out a collective, audible sigh of relief, smiling warmly at the sight of the little Sylaris finally showing her face
. Zaliyah didn't care about his dignity, nor did he care about the eyes watching him. He immediately dropped to his knees on the floor, reaching out and pulling Sylaris into a tight, crushing embrace.
The child remained rigid for a brief moment, her little arms locked at her sides as she tried to maintain her stubborn sulk, but she didn't push him away this time.
"I am so sorry," Zaliyah whispered fervently into her silver hair, his long arms locking securely around her small back, pulling her close to his heart. "I'm so sorry, sweetie, it was wrong for me to yell at you .... please forgive dad"
Sylaris let out a tiny sniffle, her defenses crumbling against his warmth. Her small arms slowly crept upward, wrapping tightly around his neck, though she made sure her voice remained appropriately stubborn and stern.
"I am going to tell my teacher that you yelled at me," she threatened softly against his shoulder. "My teacher doesn't like when people yell at me. She says I am a rare treasure."
Zaliyah smiled as he pulled away just enough to look at her tear-stained face.
"Yes... yes, go ahead and tell her. Tell the whole world if you must."
He slid his slender arms beneath her small frame and hoisted her up into the air, carrying her down the corridor. Sylaris rested her chin on his shoulder, throwing one last glaring look back at Thalassa, who waved cheerfully as they departed.