Written by: Loki<3
As soon as the grand carriage of the Holy Empire rolled to a stop in front of the Althas estate, a hush fell over the courtyard. The estate staff, already prepped into a frenzy by Bartholomew, stood in rigid lines. Maids peeked from behind marble pillars, stableboys held their breath.
And in the middle of the path stood Duke Everen Vox Althas, arms crossed, eyebrows high, trying his absolute best to look stern.
He didn't succeed for long.
Because the door to the carriage swung open…
And Seraphina Vox Althas, Saintess of the Holy Empire, daughter of House Althas, the shining symbol of grace and divine power—
Sprinted.
"Faaatherrrr!!!"
"Wha—SERAPHINA?!"
Before he could even process it, she had launched herself into his arms like a child again, nearly knocking the poor duke off his feet.
"Ack—by the Saints, you're still as chaotic as ever—!"
She hugged him tightly, burying her face in his chest. For a brief moment, there was no holy empire, no duties, just her being his father's daughter and her very confused, very exasperated, very emotional father.
From the carriage window, Auren watched wide-eyed, slack-jawed.
"That… that's the Saintess?" he whispered to Seren, who only nodded in silence.
The young child, Auren, stared in disbelief as he witnessed his savior, Saintess Seraphina, behaving like a child for the very first time since they had met. A storm of emotions still weighed heavily on him when suddenly, a sharp gaze fell upon him. It was the piercing, icy stare of Duke Everen, his expression complex and unreadable as his eyes lingered on the boy.
Later, inside the warm drawing room filled with Althas family portraits and the scent of wine, Seraphina lounged on the velvet settee, sipping tea like she hadn't just dropped a scandal on the entire kingdom.
Her father, meanwhile, sat across from her, his brow twitching.
"So," he said. "This boy."
He knew well that his daughter had never once looked at men with the slightest interest in building a family. And yet, the boy's appearance bore a resemblance to her that was far too striking to ignore. How could he possibly deny it, when the evidence stood plainly before his eyes?
"Mmhmm," Seraphina hummed with a smile not saying anything amidst her father panicking.
"He looks exactly like you."
"Oh yes, everyone says that." Saintess Seraphina said so nonchalantly that her father's head with bulging veins were about to explode from how stressed he's feeling right now.
Duke Everen narrowed his eyes. "…Seraphina."
"Yes, Father?"
"…Tell me the truth."
She set her teacup down with perfect timing, sighed dramatically, then looked him straight in the eye.
"Fine," she said. "You finally caught me."
Duke Everen leaned forward with his heart almost stopped pulsating.
She leaned in too, matching the intensity of this atmosphere right now.
"I did indeed bear that child, Father." she whispered, her expression solemn, though tinged with the faintest hint of regret. At her side, Sir Seren's eye twitched uncontrollably at the absurdity of such words. He had been with her every day—such nonsense was impossible. Pregnant, indeed! What utter folly.
Silence.
The Duke's eye twitched.
"…What."
"And I've been hiding it for eight years," she added with a tragic sigh. "I went on a pilgrimage, grew a belly, gave birth in a barn—"
"Seraphina."
"—raised him in secret with the help of a talking goat priest—"
"Seraphina Vox Althas."
She cracked.
"I'M KIDDING!" she burst into laughter. "Oh my gods, Father, your face! You looked like you were about to disown me—"
He exhaled like he'd aged a decade in ten seconds. "I was about to faint."
"Really? I thought you'd demand to duel the guy first."
"I was already planning the funeral. Yours."
She laughed harder.
When they finally calmed down, she leaned forward, this time with sincerity in her eyes.
"Father… this child's name is Auren. I found him in the forest on my way to Alvareth. He was alone, injured… but something about him called to me. Maybe it's because he looks like me. Maybe it's because I've always wanted a sibling....."
Duke Everen sat in contemplative silence, the weight of his memories pressing gently upon him. His beloved wife had died giving birth to their daughter, Seraphina, leaving behind a void that could never be filled. With no mother to nurture her and no siblings to share her childhood, Seraphina's early years were shaped by absence and longing. The Duke, recognizing the irreplaceable loss she had suffered, devoted himself entirely to her well-being and happiness. Every gesture, every lesson, every word of affection was offered with the awareness that Seraphina was the living embodiment of his late wife's love—a treasure she had left behind, fragile yet precious. In Seraphina, Duke Everen found both solace and purpose, dedicating himself to raising her with unwavering care, hoping that through his love, she would grow strong, cherished, and whole despite the sorrow that marked the beginning of her life.
"Can we adopt him, Father?" Seraphina asked, her voice earnest yet tinged with hope. "No one will doubt us if you say he is your son." She paused, her gaze steady. "If he turns out to be the chosen one, then so be it. But if not… at least he'll have a home, a place where he belongs. And when the time comes for me to pass on the duchy, I want him to carry it forward. I don't wish to marry, Father. I don't want a child of my own. You know that too. I only want our household to continue."
Duke Everen's chest tightened at her words. He looked at Seraphina, the only living remnant of his beloved wife, and felt the depth of her longing, her responsibility, and her love for the family. He had dreamed of his bloodline continuing through her, yet he could see the wisdom and purity in her choice. With a heavy sigh and a tender smile, he nodded. "Very well, my daughter," he said softly. "If this is what you wish, we shall adopt him. Our bloodline may end with us, but our household… our legacy… will endure, nurtured by love, not only by blood. "Well, who knows~ he might be your son, Father~" Seraphina teased, a playful glint in her eyes. "Mother would definitely haunt you if she knew."
Her words hung in the air, met with her father's unreadable expression, his face betraying nothing as always. Beside her, Sir Seres stood perfectly still, like a statue, his posture rigid and unyielding, as if he hadn't even heard her. Seraphina couldn't help but smirk at the contrast—the lightness of her jest bouncing off her father's solemnity and Seres' stoicism. Even so, the warmth in the room was unmistakable, an unspoken bond of family and loyalty that needed no words to be felt.
From outside the door, Auren stood quietly, having overheard everything. And for the first time in a long time, he felt something warm bloom in his chest—something like hope.
Family? The thought had never crossed his mind since losing his own—he had believed that part of his life was gone forever. Yet now, before him, stood someone willing to embrace a complete stranger with open arms, offering care, protection, and warmth without a single question. The sheer weight of such acceptance pressed against his chest, unfamiliar and overwhelming. For the first time in years, the cold, empty spaces inside him seemed to shrink, replaced by a fragile, trembling hope. To be wanted, to be considered part of something… it was almost too much to grasp, yet his heart could not help but ache with gratitude. Perhaps, after all this time, family was not defined solely by blood—it was by those willing to open themselves to you completely, even when you had nothing to offer in return.