Life in the Blackthorn Dukedom had... changed.
There were fewer screams in the halls.
Fewer assassins dragged bleeding through the courtyard.
Fewer body parts mysteriously appearing in the fountain.
All thanks to Cael.
Because if there was one universal truth everyone in the estate learned quickly—
The twins would only eat if Cael cooked.
⸻
"I'm not a chef," Cael had said flatly, holding up his flour-dusted hands.
"You are now," Eryx replied, sitting cross-legged on the kitchen counter, stealing strawberries.
Viel was already clinging to Cael's apron from behind, pressing his cheek against his back like a sleepy cat.
"You make food taste safe," he murmured.
Cael sighed. "That's not a flavor."
"It is when it's from you," Eryx smirked.
And that was that.
⸻
Breakfast? Cael.
Lunch? Cael.
Midnight snack? Cael, half-asleep, mumbling into the stove.
If anyone else tried?
A fork would be thrown.
Or worse, a knife.
The royal chefs, once terrified of being executed for overcooked eggs, now wept openly in relief—grateful to be demoted.
⸻
But it wasn't just the kitchen.
The twins followed Cael everywhere.
He became their personal nurse, tutor, tailor, bedtime storyteller, and emotional support human.
It was exhausting.
And oddly... healing.
⸻
For the first time, the halls filled with more laughter than blood.
For the first time, the maids weren't sobbing in corners.
For the first time, the dukedom felt alive.
And Cael, despite the chaos, despite being pulled in twelve directions a day...
Smiled.
⸻
One quiet evening, after dinner, the twins took him walking through the far side of the estate.
Hand in hand. Viel on his left, Eryx on his right.
That's when they found it.
The abandoned glass house.
⸻
It stood crooked and charred, hidden behind ivy-covered walls and curling vines.
The glass was cracked. The beams blackened from an old fire.
But Cael could still see what it must've looked like once.
Elegant. Shimmering. A place of light and warmth.
He stepped closer, pressing his palm to the dusty pane.
"This used to be beautiful," he said softly. "It's kind of a shame."
The twins exchanged a glance behind him.
Cael turned, catching them.
"What?"
"Do you want it fixed?" Eryx asked casually.
Cael laughed. "What? No, no. I mean—sure, it's a nice idea, but... it's fine. I was just saying. That's all."
Viel stared at him. "You want it."
"I said it's fine."
"You want it," Eryx repeated, grinning.
"I—! That's not—!" Cael threw up his hands. "It's impossible, okay?! Don't burn anything else down while I'm asleep, please."
They just smiled.
⸻
Two weeks later, Cael was summoned to the garden.
Sleepy, flour on his cheek, apron still tied around his waist.
When he stepped into the clearing—
He stopped breathing.
The glass house stood tall, perfect, glowing like a dream under the morning sun.
Clear panes, polished wood, flowers blooming in every corner. Lavender, sunflowers, lilies, delicate trailing ivy from the beams.
Butterflies danced through the air. Warmth pressed against his skin. A soft breeze carried the scent of roses and wild mint.
It wasn't just restored.
It was perfect.
Better than perfect.
⸻
Viel peeked out from behind a curtain of hanging vines. "Do you like it?"
Eryx stepped forward, a little too proud. "We had some free time."
"Some—? This—! I—" Cael's voice cracked as he turned in a slow circle. "You rebuilt a palace of flowers!"
"You wanted it," Viel said simply.
"And if you want something..." Eryx added, stepping beside him, "you'll get it."
Cael covered his mouth.
He blinked back the tears before they could fall.
"You two are... impossible."
Viel slipped his hand into Cael's.
Eryx leaned into his shoulder with a quiet grin.
"Then why are you smiling like that, Nanny Cael?"
Cael sighed, eyes shining. "Because no one's ever done something like this for me."
They didn't answer.
They didn't need to.
They just held onto him like he was the most beautiful thing in the world.
And in that blooming glass house, wrapped in petals and light—
Cael let himself believe...
Maybe he really was.