POV: Kyros
As we finished eating our fill, the maids quietly stepped forward to clear the dishes. Aurora sat there with a satisfied look on her face, and for the first time in a long while, I felt… content.Simple conversation. Laughter. No strategy, no politics — just a meal shared between father and daughter. It felt good.
I turned to Selene, the head maid. "Is the room for her ready yet?"
Selene bowed deeply. "Yes, Your Excellency. It is prepared for Her Highness."
I nodded and looked back to Aurora. "Let's go see your new room. You can change or add whatever you like over time. If I'm not here, tell any of the staff — they'll see it done."
Aurora nodded eagerly, eyes bright. "Okay!"
We left the grand dining hall and entered the long, marble corridor, lined with golden sconces and enchanted crystal lights. Alphonso and his unit were waiting just beyond the doors. They saluted in unison before falling into step behind us.
As we walked, I found myself engaging in idle talk again — about the city, the palace, and even her thoughts on the meal. It was strange how natural it felt.
Eventually, we arrived before a pair of engraved double doors depicting mages of old. The craftsmanship was exquisite — the kind of artistry one might expect to find in a royal museum, not a private residence.
Alphonso opened the doors, stepping aside as Aurora and I entered.
The room beyond was vast: a massive four-poster bed draped in silk, two grand glass doors leading to a wide balcony overlooking Luminosity, and a private bath built into the far corner. Though simply furnished for now, the space radiated quiet luxury.
Aurora immediately ran about the room, inspecting every corner with awe until she reached the bed — then, with a delighted shriek, she threw herself onto it, landing face-first.
Her laughter filled the room. "This bed is ridiculous, Father! It's, like, a hundred times bigger than me!"
I kept my face composed. "The quality is what's expected of my daughter."
She giggled. "So serious all the time. But yes — I love it!"
I nodded slightly. "Good. Come — the balcony view is even better."
Before she could respond, I scooped her up into my arms. She yelped, surprised, as I carried her to the balcony doors and stepped outside.
The city stretched before us in breathtaking splendour — towers of magi-tech, radiant streetlights glowing in ordered lines, and the great walls shimmering faintly with runic defences. Even I, who had seen it countless times, still found it impressive.
Aurora pressed her hands to the railing, eyes wide. "Wow! It's beautiful! Is that the city? It's huge! And those walls — how high do they go?!"
Her amazement made me smile. "Indeed. Even I find it remarkable still."
I set her down and we both sat at the balcony table. For a few moments, we simply watched the glittering skyline. Then I exhaled slowly. There was one question I could no longer avoid.
"Aurora," I began softly, "what happened to your mother? What… led you to end up the way you did?"
Her cheerful expression faded immediately. She hesitated, lips trembling slightly.
"I'm not sure," she said quietly. "We lived peacefully — just Mother and I — in a cabin outside a small town in the human domain. It was nice… trees, quiet, fresh air. But one day, when we went into town like always, there were… bad men."
Her voice faltered.
"They wore fine clothes and carried themselves like nobles or mages. Mother pushed me behind her. I remember her face — she looked scared, really scared. Then they tried to take me. Before they could, Mother attacked them and told me to run."
Aurora's hands clenched on her knees. "I ran. I hid. The noise went on for a while — magic, screaming — then it stopped. When I came out…" She swallowed. "Mother was on the ground. She'd beaten most of them, I think… all but one, who was wounded and ran away. But she—"
Her voice broke. Tears welled in her eyes as she looked down. "I tried to save her, Father, but… it was too late."
For a moment, I stood frozen. Rage flooded through me, cold and sharp. My mana surged before I reined it in — the air still crackled faintly. How dare they…
But then I saw her trembling shoulders, and the anger melted away. I knelt before her and pulled her gently into my arms.
"Aurora," I whispered, "you were brave. Your mother would be proud of you."
She cried quietly against my chest. I held her, letting her grief flow out until her sobs softened. Then, pulling back slightly, I asked gently, "What happened after that? You don't have to continue if you don't want to."
She sniffled, voice small. "I stayed with her for a while. I don't know how long. The town was ruined. Then some people found me… and took me to that orphanage."
I hugged her again, placing a soft kiss on her forehead. "You did well, Aurora. Thank you for telling me. I promise you — those responsible will answer for it."
She stiffened slightly, looking up at me through watery eyes. "You're not going to leave me too, are you? Please don't. You're all I have left. What if they hurt you, too?"
Her fear hit me harder than any spell could. I met her gaze and said firmly, "You don't have to worry. I will never leave you. There are few in this world who could threaten me. I don't break promises — and I just made one to you now: I will never leave you."
I spoke with all the conviction I had. She searched my eyes for a long moment before nodding, whispering, "Okay… I believe you."
I brushed her hair aside gently. "One last thing, Aurora. Can you remember anything else about those men? Their robes, their emblems?"
She thought hard, then said, "They wore red robes… and had a flame symbol."
My entire body went still. Red robes. A flame emblem.
It couldn't be them… could it?
I forced a smile and nodded reassuringly. "You've done well, my child. Rest now. I have matters to attend to."
I rose to my feet. "A maid team will be assigned to you for your daily needs. Don't hesitate to ask for anything."
She nodded, then suddenly wrapped her arms around me. "I love you, Father."
I froze — the words struck deeper than any spell or sword. For a moment, I didn't know how to react. Then, awkwardly but firmly, I returned the hug.
"Rest, Aurora," I said quietly, pulling back. "You'll need your strength."
As I stepped toward the door, one thought echoed in my mind.
Time to do what I do best.
Parenting… is proving far more dangerous than battle.