CHAPTER 8 - Home
The carriage stopped in front of the black iron gates engraved with the Evermont crest.
Beyond them stood the family residence—grand and expansive, almost resembling a small palace. Stone towers rose on either side. Tall pillars supported the front balcony. Large windows reflected the evening light. It was not a modest place.
Keira stepped down first. "This… feels different," she murmured.
"Because this is home," Cassian replied softly.
Daniel observed their surroundings as cautiously as ever, but even he could feel the difference. There was no oppressive aura. No shadow of a throne.
They walked inside.
The corridor was long, yet warm. The walls were filled with family portraits, not royal emblems.
Keira's steps slowed.
"That…?"
She pointed to one of the paintings.
A dark-haired man with a firm yet warm gaze. Beside him, a woman with a gentle smile and very familiar eyes.
"Mother and Father," Cassian answered.
Keira looked at the portrait a moment longer. "Where are they now?"
A small silence fell.
"They are gone," Cassian replied.
His voice did not waver. Too practiced.
"They fell ill after visiting an area of Evermont that was struck by an outbreak," he continued quietly. "I was seventeen at the time."
Keira turned slowly. "And Aelirra?"
"Ten."
The air felt heavier.
"You became duke then?"
Cassian nodded.
"The title was meant to be Father's for a long time. But death never waits for readiness." He walked slowly past the painting. "I signed my first document as Duke of Evermont at seventeen."
Keira could imagine it.
A boy not yet fully grown, sitting in a chair too large for him, holding a pen with hands that might still have been trembling.
"And Aelirra?" she asked softly.
Cassian was silent for a moment.
"She stopped being a child that day."
Keira swallowed.
"She never cried in front of anyone. Never complained."
Cassian's tone softened.
"But every night for nearly a year, she slept in a chair near the door to my study."
Keira turned quickly. "Why?"
"Because she was afraid I would leave too."
Silence.
Daniel turned his face slightly away, giving the moment space.
"I pretended not to know," Cassian continued. "And every morning, I pretended to be surprised to find her there."
Keira felt something shift in her chest.
It wasn't a memory.
But it felt too close to ignore.
"She's gentle," Cassian murmured. "Too gentle for a world that demands she be strong."
Keira looked at the marble floor—less grand than the palace, but more real.
"I don't remember it," she said quietly.
Cassian looked at her. "That doesn't erase what you lived through."
Keira lifted her gaze. "And you?" she asked.
Cassian paused slightly. "I didn't have the luxury of breaking."
The answer was simple.
Too simple.
"The kingdom needed an alliance with Evermont. The northern territories needed stability. The nobles tested my limits every week."
He gave a faint, almost bitter smile.
"I learned quickly."
Daniel finally spoke. "You both grew up too fast."
Cassian didn't deny it.
"Aelirra always tried to keep this house warm," he continued softly. "She said that if Father was no longer here, then at least Evermont should still feel like home."
Keira looked around the room once more.
Warm. Calm. Without a crown.
And for the first time since arriving in this world, she did not feel like she was standing on a stage.
"Was she happy here?" Keira asked.
Cassian thought for a moment.
"Yes."
There was no hesitation.
"Here, she was just Aelirra. My precious little sister. My only family."
Keira nodded slowly.
"I'm not her," she said gently.
Cassian looked at her with the same gaze he had in the carriage.
"I know."
He didn't try to force that identity onto her.
"But this house is still yours. Whatever your name may be."
Keira looked at their parents' portrait once more.
Ten years old.
Seventeen years old.
Two children who lost too much, too soon.
And perhaps…
One of them never truly learned how to carry that loss without breaking himself in the process.
Daniel lightly touched Keira's shoulder.
"We don't have to be the past to stay here."
Keira took a deep breath.
For the first time, she felt safe.