The dining hall had emptied out gradually. One by one, her brothers had drifted away, sensing perhaps that something else was meant to follow—something private.
Aira remained seated, her plate now empty except for crumbs and the untouched strawberries she'd avoided without reason. She didn't notice when Seraphina entered the room. But she noticed the scent first—rose and linen—and then the soft rustle of silk as her mother took the seat beside her.
Alaric followed moments later, hands tucked in the pockets of his tailored jacket. He didn't sit. He stood behind Seraphina, eyes unreadable yet not unkind.
They said nothing at first.
Aira didn't look up.
"You slept well?" Seraphina finally asked, her voice careful. Soft.
"I did," Aira replied, her tone neutral but polite.
A pause. Then—
"The wardrobe… did you find anything to your liking?"
Aira's gaze lifted slowly. She met her mother's eyes, unreadable and calm. "Yes."
Seraphina smiled faintly, hope flickering in her expression. "We weren't sure what you preferred. The order was… a guess. Your father insisted on every season being covered."
Aira's lips twitched. "That explains the snow boots."
Alaric exhaled a quiet chuckle. "It's better to overprepare."
"I noticed," Aira said, voice still mild. Then, a pause. "Thank you."
The words hung between them like glass—fragile but undeniably there.
Seraphina straightened slightly, a nervous habit. "We weren't sure if you'd want to join us for the day's meetings, but we kept the schedule light. The estate is yours to explore if you'd rather be alone."
"Is that what you think I'd prefer?"
Seraphina's smile faltered. "I'm trying not to assume."
Aira tilted her head. "Then why are you trying so hard to make this easy?"
Alaric finally stepped forward. "Because we failed you once. We won't again."
Silence followed, stretched and taut.
Seraphina reached into her pocket and placed something on the table: a small key, delicate, with a crystal embedded in the bow.
"This was your room key," she said. "It hasn't been used since… since we lost you."
Aira stared at it. "I don't need it."
"You don't have to use it," Seraphina replied gently. "It's just yours. Always was."
The silence lingered, but this time, it didn't feel so brittle.
"Is there anything we can do?" Alaric asked, quietly. "Anything that would help you… adjust?"
Aira's brows drew slightly. "Stop trying to help."
That startled them.
Then, slowly, she added, "Let me come to you when I'm ready."
Seraphina nodded, a trace of moisture lining her lashes. "We can do that."
Alaric exhaled softly. "We'll be waiting."
Aira rose from her seat. She didn't storm away. She didn't make a scene. But as she left the dining room, the tiny silver key remained clenched in her palm.
And Seraphina, watching her daughter's back retreat, whispered to herself, "You came back, Aira. That's all we ever needed."
Alaric placed a hand on her shoulder.
For now, that was enough.