Chapter 30
Several days later, the fever had completely broken, leaving Elyra fully recovered. Soft morning sunlight poured through the bedroom window, washing the room in a rich, golden amber glow. For once, the space was entirely quiet, devoid of anxious attendants or hovering parents.
Today, however, Elyra found herself in an uncharacteristically buoyant mood.
Alright...
Her sapphire eyes drifted toward the miniature wooden sword resting neatly on the polished bedside table.
Maybe I've been a bit too harsh on Damnern.
A small, genuine smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.
The weapon wasn't a masterpiece; upon close inspection, tiny imperfections and rough knife strokes were still visible along the guard. Yet, somehow, those very flaws only made it infinitely more valuable.
Click.
The bedroom door clicked open. Maid Sasha slipped inside, carrying a freshly pressed set of children's clothing over her arm.
"Oh? Is the Young Lady already awake?" Sasha asked, blinking in pleasant surprise.
"Ehehe."
Elyra pushed herself upright against the headboard, her expression practically radiating sunshine.
"Come along then. It's time for your bath, and breakfast is already waiting downstairs."
"Otay!"
Elyra hopped down from the mattress with an energetic skip, a bright, bubbly laugh escaping her lips.
Sasha froze dead in her tracks, staring down at her.
...Young Lady?
Something was profoundly, bewilderingly different today. Usually, Elyra carried herself with an eerie, stoic maturity—a heavy composure that frequently caused the household staff to forget she was merely a toddler.
But today?
Today she actually looked and moved like a genuinely happy two-year-old child.
It was... utterly surreal.
And, truth be told, dangerously adorable.
Minutes later, freshly bathed and dressed, Elyra skipped down the corridor toward the grand dining hall. Elina and Eldern were already seated at the head of the table. The moment they looked up, both of them blinked in unison.
Elyra was practically marching in with a rhythmic hop in her step.
"Is your fever completely gone, sweetheart?" Elina asked, her brow furrowing with gentle concern.
"Yep! All bettew, Mama!"
Elyra chirped a cheerful response, scrambling up into the chair beside her brother. Elina exchanged a bewildered glance with Eldern, both of them sharing the exact same silent question: Why is she in such an inexplicably good mood today?
Elyra's eyes darted around the spacious dining room, subtly scanning the perimeter. Noticing the unspoken search, Elina immediately offered a soft explanation.
"Papa has a mountain of administrative work this morning, so he won't be joining us for breakfast."
"Oh."
Elyra's shoulders dropped for a brief second. Then, a mischievous light flickered in her eyes. She leaned over toward her brother, dropping her voice to a conspiratorial whisper.
"Edennn..."
"Hm?" Eldern muttered around a bite of buttered toast.
"Wet's go to Pa...pa's office watew."
Eldern choked slightly, blinking down at her in pure confusion. "...Why?"
"Ehehe."
That, obviously, was no answer at all. Yet, once breakfast concluded, Eldern found himself instinctively trailing behind her like a loyal squire, having zero clue what grand scheme was brewing in her head.
A short while later, Elyra unceremoniously shoved open the heavy mahogany doors to the Count's private office without so much as a polite knock.
Eldern instantly stiffened, grabbing her arm in a panic. "Shouldn't we knock first...?" he hissed in a breathless whisper.
Inside, morning sunlight streamed through towering stained-glass windows, illuminating a vast, orderly room dominated by towering bookshelves and an immense, paper-strewn oak desk.
Damnern sat buried behind it, aggressively reviewing documents with bloodshot eyes. His silver hair was noticeably ruffled, and heavy, bruised dark circles shadowed his striking blue eyes. Even from across the threshold, he radiated bone-deep exhaustion.
The silence of the room was broken only by the scratching of his quill and the rustle of turning parchment.
Ignoring protocol entirely, Elyra marched in, dragging a reluctant Eldern with her, and settled comfortably into a plush corner seating area.
"What are we even doing here?" Eldern whimpered softly.
"Pwaying, of couwse," Elyra replied coolly.
Without missing a beat, she reached out, snatched a rolled-up broadsheet newspaper from the side table, and thrust it directly into Eldern's hands.
"Eden. Read."
Still bewildered, Eldern unfolded the daily gazette, clearing his throat before reading aloud in a tentative voice.
"Sanro Gill, age forty, officially retired two days ago from his post as Official Strongest Warrior Number Nine."
He scanned down the columns. "Current Official Strongest Warrior Rankings..."
"Number One: Matthias Crae."
"Number Two: Oscar Wade."
"Number Three: Noah Holt."
"Number Four: Rayyan Bartos."
"Number Five: Derrick Berwyn."
"Number Six: Bradley Conal."
"Number Seven: Galdric Erout."
"Number Eight: Cedric Garl."
Eldern paused, squinting at the bottom line. "And... two seats remain vacant."
He lowered the paper, turning to look at Elyra expecting some sort of profound commentary, only to find she wasn't listening at all. Her chin was propped in her hands, her gaze fixed entirely on Damnern, a devilish, victorious smirk plastered across her face.
Let's see how you handle this, Damnern. Do you have the heart to toss us out now?
As if feeling the weight of her stare, Damnern slowly raised his head. Their eyes locked across the room, and the cheeky, triumphant grin shining on Elyra's face hit him like a physical blow.
What is she plotting now?
Don't tell me she's actually planning to cash in on that training promise right this second...
Yet, despite his throbbing headache, seeing her vibrant, energetic expression after days of bedridden sickness sent an unexpected wave of warmth through his chest. A faint, fond smile broke through his fatigue before he could stop it.
Shortly after, the office door swung open once more. Elina glided into the room bearing a silver tray laden with herbal tea and afternoon pastries. She froze dead in her tracks the moment her eyes landed on the two intruders squatting in the corner.
An absolute, heavy silence fell over the study.
...
Eldern felt his survival instincts screaming in red letters.
"Eldern," Elina said softly.
"Y-Yes, Mama?!"
"Elyra."
"Yes, Mama?"
Elina smiled. It was a terrifyingly serene, utterly lethal maternal smile.
"Papa is working."
A beat of absolute quiet.
"Get out."
Those two syllables were a command of absolute authority. Without waiting for a second warning, Eldern and Elyra scrambled up and bolted out the door like startled rabbits.
Before ducking out into the corridor, however, Elyra couldn't resist one final parting shot. She poked her head back inside, flashing a brilliant, victorious grin.
Damnern looked up just in time to catch it, his heart doing a panicked little flip against his ribs. She really is going to make me pay up on that promise...
By five o'clock that evening, Damnern had miraculously managed to clear his desk—or at least survive long enough to escape the crushing avalanche of paperwork.
Dragging his feet, he ambled down the hall toward Eldern's chambers. When he pushed the door open, a surprisingly peaceful scene greeted him: Elyra and Eldern were sitting cross-legged on the rug, deeply engrossed in coloring books and scattered crayons.
The tranquil domesticity made him halt, a heavy sigh tearing from his throat.
I am utterly shattered...
His skull throbbed a steady, painful rhythm. Petitions, trade agreements, border reports, budget allocations, noble disputes—an endless, soul-crushing swamp of bureaucracy.
Whoever thought I was suitable for this position was clearly mistaken.
What was King Arveth thinking?
Damnern rubbed his temples, feeling ancient. And then, like a ghost haunting his conscience, a second problem reared its head: the pending training session.
He had made an absolute promise. Especially to Elyra.
Yet, looking at his current physical and mental state, trying to run a rigorous combat drill right now would be nothing short of parental malpractice.
"E-Eldern..." he started awkwardly, leaning against the doorframe.
"E-Elyra..."
The two children immediately stopped coloring, turning their heads up toward him. Damnern forced the most apologetic, pathetic smile he could muster.
"Papa is terribly sorry... Papa's mind is completely fried today, so perhaps we can postpone the train—"
"Otay."
The response dropped instantly, clean and without a shred of hesitation.
Damnern blinked, his brain stuttering.
"...Huh?"
Elyra simply smiled back at him—a soft, uncharacteristically warm expression. For a long moment, she just stared at the battered, worn-out man standing before her: his disheveled silver hair, the dark trenches under his blue eyes, and the exhausted slump of his broad shoulders that suggested he might turn to dust at any second.
You've already stretched yourself thin enough for me, Damnern. Just take a break.
Even though the words remained unsaid, they radiated clearly from her observant sapphire eyes.
Damnern stared back at her, stunned into silence.
Then, his lower lip trembled violently.
"E-Elyra..."
A solitary, dramatic tear spilled over his lower eyelid, tracking down his cheek.
"Thank you for being so understanding of Papa's plight!"
Before Elyra could register the impending danger, Damnern lunged forward like a starving beast and hauled her into a crushing, ribs-rattling bear hug.
"Gah—!"
Her face was instantly smashed flat against his chest, completely cutting off her oxygen supply.
"Papa is the luckiest father in the world!"
I take back everything I felt last night! Elyra screamed inwardly, flailing frantically in his iron grasp. You're just making this excruciating for me!
Elyra flailed wildly, shoving at his face with both tiny hands, but Damnern's emotional waterworks only intensified, blinding him to her muffled struggles.
Watching the dramatic spectacle from the rug, Eldern blinked slowly, processing the emotional display, before quietly raising a hand.
"...Should Eldern hug Papa too?"
Damnern whipped his head around. Without wasting a single millisecond of hesitation, his free arm shot out like a hydraulic press, scooping Eldern into the death grip as well.
"Of course you should!"
"E-Eh?!"
Before Eldern could brace himself, he was violently yanked into the pile, trapped alongside Elyra in Damnern's suffocating, multi-directional embrace. Damnern buried his face right between his two children, his voice thick with overwhelming paternal bliss.
"Papa loves both of you more than life itself!"
The bedroom instantly degenerated into an absolute warzone of gasping, giggling, and frantic protests.
With that, the tranquil afternoon dissolved entirely into chaotic, joyful bedlam.
To be Continued...