Chapter 264 Brother

"If they wrote to insult you... if they wrote to defend that rotting corpse of an Uncle..."

"I think they didn’t," Seraphina stated with unshakeable certainty.

Kaelus stared at her. "How can you know that?"

Because Seraphina was the mastermind who had deliberately detonated the emotional bomb in the conservatory.

She had told the ’puppies’ exactly how stupid their sacrifice was. She knew that these letters were the direct fallout of her psychological warfare.

"Because I saw them, Papa," Seraphina lied gently, offering a half-truth to protect him. "When the old man was yelling at you, I looked at their faces. They weren’t mad at you. They looked really, really sad."

She reached up with her other hand, gently wiping the tear from his cheek.

"Read them," Seraphina urged softly.

"I’m right here. If they say mean things, I will summon the ducks and we will ruin their lives. But I don’t think they are mean."

Kaelus looked at his daughter.

He drew strength from her absolute, unwavering confidence. He took a shaky breath. He slowly pulled his hand away from the fire.

With trembling fingers, he broke the seal on the first envelope was Elara’s letter.

He unfolded the heavy parchment.

There was no formal greeting, no political posturing, only three short, hastily written sentences.

Kaelus.

The dress she wore was beautiful, but the velvet is too heavy for the Capital summer. I have enclosed the name of a seamstress in the Lower Ward who specializes in cooling-silk weaves; she will not ask questions.

She has your stubborn chin.

— E.

Kaelus stared at the parchment as his breath hitched in his chest.

It wasn’t an apology, or an explanation for fifteen years of absence.

It was something deeper than that.

It was an act of quiet maternal care. Elara hadn’t written to defend the Uncle, she had written to offer advice on how to care for Seraphina. She had noticed the heavy velvet of the dress Kaelus had commissioned.

She was trying to help him protect the child.

And the final sentence. She has your stubborn chin.

It was an acknowledgment.

Elara was validating Seraphina’s place in the family. She wasn’t calling her a stray. She was accepting her as a Nacht.

A ragged, choking sob tore its way out of Kaelus’s throat.

He dropped Elara’s letter onto his lap and frantically, desperately tore open the second envelope, Caspian’s letter.

He unfolded the messy parchment.

Brother.

Count Valerius is meeting with the Elder’s Council on Tuesday at the Silver Swan Inn to draft the petition against you. He is bribing Lord Vance with mining rights on the North.

The blue dragon lollipops from La Petite Rêverie are her favorite. Don’t tell the walrus I told you.

— C.

Kaelus’s violet eyes widened, scanning the messy scrawl over and over again.

Caspian had just committed high treason against the Uncle. He had directly handed Kaelus the exact time, location, and nature of Valerius’s political ambush, handing the Reaper intelligence required to dismantle the Uncle’s plot before it even began.

And more importantly... Caspian knew about the lollipops.

’He bought her candy,’ Kaelus realized, the truth hitting him with force. ’Caspian bought my daughter a blue dragon lollipop. He must have snuck it to her. He betrayed the Count to give me military intelligence.’

They didn’t hate him or allied with the Uncle.

They were trapped, and they were trying, in their own ways, to protect him and his new daughter from the shadows.

The impenetrable vault of black mythril ice that had encased Duke Kaelus von Nacht’s heart for fifteen agonizing years did not just crack.

It shattered into a million, glittering, beautiful pieces.

Kaelus dropped the letters. He buried his face in his hands, leaning forward in his armchair, his broad shoulders shaking as fifteen years of repressed grief, loneliness, and misunderstanding finally broke free.

Seraphina didn’t say a word.

She stepped forward, wrapping her tiny arms around his shoulders as best she could. She pressed her face against his arm, holding him tight.

Over his shoulder, Seraphina looked at the two letters resting on his lap.

Her dark eyes narrowed, a fiercely protective smile spreading across her face.

’Phase Two complete,’ Seraphina thought, resting her cheek against the dark velvet of his sleeve. ’The ice is broken, and the communication lines are open. The puppies are finally fighting back against the fake sheep.’

She patted his back gently.

The Uncle thought he was playing a political game with a broken family.

But Count Valerius was about to learn a terrifying lesson, because the Archduke was no longer alone, the siblings were waking up.

And the tiny, adorable Sovereign standing by the fire was preparing to orchestrate the most devastating, heartwarming family reunion the Imperial Capital had ever seen.

"It’s okay, Papa," Seraphina whispered into the quiet room, her voice full of promise. "We’re going to fix them. We’re going to get them back."

***

In the immediate aftermath of the anonymous letters, Duke Kaelus von Nacht had undergone a metamorphosis.

The Archduke of the North had not reverted to the miserable ghost who stared blankly at his prime rib. Nor had he transformed into the raging, homicidal Reaper who destroyed his own mahogany furniture.

Instead, he had become a phantom.

An elusive phantom who was suddenly always "in a meeting."

For three consecutive days, the Nacht Capital Estate operated under a suffocating blanket of unspoken tension. The maids scurried through the halls with their heads bowed, the Vanguard knights patrolled the perimeters with a grim, tight-lipped severity that suggested they were preparing to repel a full-scale demonic invasion.

And Seraphina von Nacht, the undisputed, tiny Sovereign of the household, found herself facing the one opponent she could not simply squish with a shadow-duck.

"Mr. Sebastian," Seraphina demanded on a sunny Wednesday afternoon, standing in the grand foyer with her hands planted firmly on her hips.

She glared up at the Head Butler. "Where is Papa?"

Sebastian, a man who had stared down charging trolls without blinking, suddenly looked as though he were standing on a live landmine. A bead of sweat formed near the scar over his blind eye.

"His Grace is... currently engaged in a highly classified audit, My Lady," Sebastian rasped, staring rigidly at the vaulted ceiling, refusing to make eye contact with the six-year-old. "He requested isolation. It is a matter of severe internal security."

"He has been auditing logistics for three days," Seraphina deadpanned, unconvinced by his poor acting. "Alistair does the logistics. Papa just signs the papers and threatens the accountants. Why are the maids packing trunks in the East Wing?"

Sebastian cleared his throat, an incredibly awkward, rusty sound. "Spring cleaning, My lady. The Capital dust is notoriously abrasive. We are... airing out the velvet."

Seraphina narrowed her pitch-black eyes. ’Spring cleaning. In late autumn. Yeah, right. As if I would believe you.’

She didn’t press the butler. She executed a pivot and marched out to the training yards, and found Sir Boris polishing his broadsword near the weapon racks.

"Sir Boris!" Seraphina called out cheerfully.

The seven-foot-tall giant visibly flinched. He spun around, hastily attempting to hide a large, travel-sized whetstone behind his back.

"M-Mushroom!" Boris boomed, his voice cracking with a high-pitched, panicked squeak that completely ruined his terrifying aesthetic. "What a delightful surprise! You are not in your lessons! Are you enjoying the... the weather?"

"Boris," Seraphina walked right up to his iron-plated shins. "Why are they outfitting the secondary carriage with shock-absorbing suspension runes and long-distance travel rations? Who is going on a trip?"

Sir Boris stared down at her.

His single eye began to well up with shiny tears. His lower lip wobbled as the ferocious Vanguard Commander, faced with the prospect of lying to the tiny girl he adored, suffered a systemic failure.

"I APOLOGIZE, MY LADY! I CANNOT SAY!" Boris wailed, throwing his hands over his face, dropping his broadsword with a resounding CLANG.

He turned and literally sprinted away across the training yard, his armor clanking frantically as he fled from the interrogation. "DO NOT LOOK AT ME WITH THOSE EYES! I AM SWORN TO SECRECY! FORGIVE MEEE!"

Seraphina watched the giant run away, dusting her hands off.

’Pathetic,’ Seraphina’s adult mind sighed. ’They are the worst liars in the history of the Empire. Even a blind badger could see that this entire estate is mobilizing for a major operational shift.’