Guinevere had grown noticeably heavier these past few months.
Emery felt it as he carried her across the sunlit courtyard, the infant's dark hair now thick against his shoulder while her bright green eyes darted from bird to banner with an endless, tireless curiosity. Klea walked beside him at an unhurried pace, and together they approached the group waiting near the far gate.
Fjolnir stood at the front, the Voidwolf crew gathered behind him. Thirty hardened cultivators waited in travel gear, packs secured, weapons checked, their ship already fueled and ready in the hangar beyond.
The day Emery had quietly hoped would come much later had finally arrived.
