"I can't eat anymore…"
"You said that ten minutes ago."
"I meant it this time."
Eris leaned back in his chair, one hand on his stomach, the other still holding a half-finished pastry, and Keyla couldn't help but laugh as she nudged his arm lightly.
"You're a prince. Act like one."
"I am acting like one," he replied, grinning. "A very satisfied one."
Around them, the banquet hall had softened.
The loud cheers were gone, replaced by low conversations and tired laughter, as nobles relaxed into their seats and servants quietly cleared the tables.
What had started as a grand celebration had slowly turned into something warmer, something closer.
At the center table, Alfur sat quietly.
Alfrida was beside him, her posture straight, her green and gold regalia catching the candlelight, but her eyes kept drifting to him every few seconds.
"Are you alright?" she asked softly.
Alfur exhaled.
"…I don't know yet."
Before she could respond, a voice rose above the room.
Emperor Albeit stood.
He didn't shout. He didn't need to.
The hall fell silent almost immediately.
"Today," he began, his voice calm but full, "we celebrate something greater than victory."
All eyes turned to him.
"We celebrate return."
A pause.
"A brother who was lost… has come home."
The words landed gently, but their weight was undeniable.
"Let this not be remembered as a day of war," he continued, "but as a day where family was restored."
Then, softer—
"Welcome home, Alfur."
The hall erupted again.
Applause. Cheers. Some even stood.
Alfur lowered his head slightly, his jaw tightening, but this time… he didn't look like a man barely holding himself together.
He looked like someone who was finally allowed to breathe.
Not long after, the banquet came to an end.
"Finally…" Eris muttered as he stood. "If I eat one more thing, I might actually die."
"You won't die," Keyla said, taking his hand. "You'll just embarrass yourself."
"Same thing."
She rolled her eyes—but didn't let go.
The royal family moved together, leaving the grand hall behind.
No formation. No announcements.
Just… family.
They entered the large lounge, a quiet space compared to the banquet hall, filled with soft chairs and warm light from tall windows.
The sun was already lowering, painting everything gold.
"This is better," General Conrey said, dropping into a seat. "No nobles. No speeches."
"Speak for yourself," General Lan replied. "I enjoyed the applause."
"You would."
Light laughter spread through the room.
Servants entered briefly, placing trays of fruits, pastries, and drinks on the tables, then left without a word.
No one touched the food immediately.
For once… no one was in a rush.
Albeit sat down slowly.
Then he reached out—and pulled Alfur closer.
It wasn't formal.
It wasn't careful.
It was instinct.
"…You're still here," Albeit murmured.
Alfur let out a small breath.
"I am."
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then Albeit looked up.
"Come," he said. "You've missed too much."
One by one, he began.
"That's Conrey. You already know him."
Conrey gave a small nod. "Still the strongest, by the way."
"You wish," Lan cut in.
"That's Lan," Albeit continued, ignoring them. "Still loud."
"I heard that."
Alfur let out a quiet chuckle.
It was small.
But it was real.
"That's Don, still goofy but he's a general now, so he has to pretend all the time."
"Stop slandering me." Don said laughing and moved closer to Alfur.
"And them," Albeit said, gesturing to the others, "are your family."
Wives stepped forward, offering gentle bows.
Children peeked from behind them, whispering.
"Is that really him?"
"He looks like second uncle Don…"
"He is his brother."
Alfur looked at them carefully.
Every face.
Every expression.
Like he was trying to memorize them all at once.
"…I missed a lot," he said.
"You did," Albeit replied.
Then, softer—
"But you're here now."
Albeit turned slightly.
"And this…"
All eyes shifted to Alfrida.
"…is the one who stood with him."
A pause.
"The one who made sure he came back."
The room grew quiet.
Alfrida straightened slightly.
"I just… stayed alive," she said.
"That's not 'just,'" Keyla said from across the room.
Alfrida blinked.
Then Eris added, "Crossing continents isn't exactly normal either."
A few chuckles.
The tension broke.
Alfrida exhaled, just a little.
"…Thank you."
And just like that—
She wasn't an outsider anymore.
Far away…
In the land of Bevaria…
The air felt different.
Cooler.
Alive.
The forests stretched endlessly, glowing faintly under the evening light, their leaves shimmering in shades that didn't exist anywhere else.
Pink.
Green.
White.
The Fay moved through it like part of the land itself.
Their skin carried soft hues—some pink like petals, others green like new leaves—and their hair flowed in matching colors, shifting gently with the wind as though it, too, was alive.
At the center of a clearing stood Cara.
"She's grown," one elder whispered.
"Too fast," another replied.
Cara crossed her arms.
"I can hear you, you know."
A few quiet laughs.
"You're supposed to," her mother said, stepping forward.
She adjusted the collar of Cara's ceremonial outfit—woven with fine patterns that glowed faintly under the light.
"Stand still."
"I am standing still."
"You're moving."
"I'm breathing."
"That counts."
Cara sighed.
Her brothers chuckled from behind them.
"Let her breathe."
"I am letting her breathe," her mother said. "I'm just making sure she doesn't look like she ran through a forest."
"I did run through a forest."
"That's not the point."
Around them, preparations continued.
Fires were being set.
Symbols drawn.
The coming-of-age ritual wasn't just tradition.
It was… transformation.
Cara glanced around.
"So this is really happening."
Her eldest brother stepped closer.
"Yes."
"No turning back?"
He smiled slightly.
"Not anymore."
She looked down at her hands.
Then back up.
"…Good."
A pause.
Then, quieter—
"I was getting bored anyway."
Her mother flicked her forehead.
"Take this seriously."
"I am."
"…You don't look like it."
"I will when it starts."