[Rynthall Estate, Living room]
Silas let out the kind of sigh that could only be forged from years of emotional trauma and absurd family situations.
"So… Why didn't you come back to the Empire?" he asked, voice tight. "Where were you all these years? If you were alive… why were we told you were dead?"
Theoran, now lazily lounging with Elysia on his lap like a war veteran enjoying his last cup of tea, sighed as though Silas had just asked him to recount the plot of a three-hour opera.
"Well… while I was traveling north, some wild bear—yes, an actual bear—decided to crash our carriage. The driver died; may he rest in peace. I got thrown into a bush, mildly bleeding and mildly unconscious. Then, some villagers found me, patched me up, and fed me suspicious stew for three weeks straight."
Silas blinked. "…And then?"
