Four months later, the early winter air blew crisp and sweet across the valley, but inside the main dining hall of the Arden estate, the high hearths roared with bright, golden fire.
The long polished mahogany table was laden with a lavish feast—roasted game, spiced winter squashes, steaming loaves of fresh herb bread, and crystal goblets filled with deep red wine. Rich velvet tapestries warmed the stone walls, and for the first time in nearly two decades, every chair at the table was filled.
At the head of the table sat Cassian, looking healthier. The pale fatigue had left his skin, replaced by a warm, radiant glow. And on his right sat Lucien, relaxed and regal, his usual stern expression softened as he casually filled Cassian's wine glass. While on Cassian's left sat Sora, draped in flowing silver robes, sipping his tea with a quiet, serene elegance.
Further down the table, a sudden burst of cheerful laughter echoed off the high rafters.
"I'm telling you, it was a pure accident!" Caelen grinned broadly, leaning across his plate to point a fork at Tristan. The son of the former barbarian was visiting the Dukedom to spend time with his peers.
But in all honesty, him and Seli were kicked out by Adrian only because he wanted to spend time alone with Thoris. And that was the norm in their house, Caelen knew it. Hence he also preferred to be away from them during those times because he also could not stand the *grossness* of his parents.
"The horse took one look at Tristan's new fur mantle and decided it was a bear!"
"And it nearly kicked me off my pants!" Tristan laughed, his blue eyes bright with genuine happiness. He sat between Elysia and Elise, looking sturdy, confident, and completely at home. Winking at Aurelian across the table.
"The stallion was just intimidated by my superior posture."
"Superior posture?" Aurelian chimed in smoothly from beside Sora. He held a goblet of wine, a subtle, relaxed smirk touching his lips.
"Tristan, you almost ended up headfirst in a hay bale. If I hadn't grabbed your reins, you'd still be pulling straw out of your hair by now."
"You only grabbed the reins because you wanted to look heroic in front of the ladies-in-waiting," Tristan shot back good-naturedly, nudging Aurelian's shoulder with his own.
Aurelian laughed—a light, open sound that hadn't been heard in the estate for years—and reached over to pass Tristan a platter of roasted meat.
There was no tension in the gesture, no bitter pride, and no lingering shadow of jealousy. Over the past four months, the two brothers had become nearly inseparable on the training grounds, forging a bond built on quiet respect, shared laughter, and mutual trust.
Sora watched them from the head of the table, setting his teacup down with a soft click. He caught Cassian's eye next to him and offered a faint, grateful nod.
Lucien reached under the table, his broad, warm hand finding Cassian's knee and giving it a gentle, firm squeeze.
Cassian leaned into the touch, looking around at the vibrant, noisy, beautiful mess of his family. He saw Elysia arguing playfully with Elise and Zelda over dessert pastries, Caelen trying to show Tristan a complex hand gesture, and Sora and Lucien sharing a rare, peaceful glance of mutual pride over the sons they had raised through the dark years.
Fransia and Elias spent most of the time together sharing cooking recipes. They seemed to have grown closer than ever before
Cassian took a slow, deep breath, feeling the steady beat of Lucien's pulse beside him and the warm light of the hearth reflecting in the eyes of his children.
The long, painful years and months of separation, grief, and misunderstanding had finally burned away into the quiet warmth of home.
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