The Morning After
Zelene woke to the scent of rosemary and rain.
The curtains were half-drawn, light spilling in soft and pale across the room. Her head ached faintly, but the air felt warm — not heavy, not haunted. Just still.
For the first time in what felt like years, Dravenhart felt like a home.
She sat up slowly. Someone had left a tray by the bedside — bread, honey, a steaming cup of tea. And beside it, a single folded letter sealed with crimson wax.
Her brows knit as she reached for it. The wax bore Dravenhart's crest — Kael's.
> You've been asleep half the day. Don't try to stand too quickly.
— K.
The handwriting was neat, deliberate — the kind of precision that hinted he'd rewritten it once or twice before deciding it was "good enough."
Zelene smiled softly to herself, the faintest warmth curling in her chest.
---
The Hallway
She dressed and stepped into the corridor, the polished stone cool beneath her bare feet. The morning light pooled through the tall windows, dust motes swirling in lazy dance.
She hadn't realized how quiet the manor could be without the hum of magic beneath its bones. No whispers. No distorted echoes. Just wind and birds outside the window.
It almost felt wrong — too peaceful — but she found herself not minding.
As she neared the courtyard, voices drifted faintly around the corner.
Kael's, low and measured.
Ray's, quieter still — blunt, but edged with concern.
---
The Courtyard
Zelene slowed, unseen behind a pillar.
Kael stood near the fountain, sleeves rolled up, sunlight cutting across his jaw. He was speaking to Ray, who leaned against the marble, arms crossed as usual.
"…she shouldn't push herself yet," Kael was saying. "The Requiem burned through her Aether reserve. If she tries anything too soon—"
"She won't, Your Grace." Ray interrupted, voice calm but firm. "She's smarter than that."
Kael gave a dry laugh. "She's also the one who judged a god."
Ray shrugged. "Point."
Ray's gaze flickered — something unreadable passing through it. "She was barely breathing. But even then, the light wouldn't fade from her hands. Like she refused to let go."
Kael was quiet for a long moment. The sound of the fountain filled the space between them.
Finally, he said, "She always refuses to let go."
Ray didn't answer — just gave a quiet hum, the kind that meant agreement. Then, after a beat, he said, "She'll need time. But she'll be fine."
Kael looked at him, one brow raised. "You sound sure."
"I am."
A small, rare smile ghosted across Ray's face. "You both survived worse."
Zelene stepped out from the pillar, arms crossed, voice teasing.
"Talking about me behind my back?"
Kael turned instantly — the faintest, caught-off-guard smile breaking through his usual composure. "You were supposed to be resting."
"And miss you both being sentimental? Impossible."
Ray huffed quietly, looking away. "You heard nothing."
"Oh, I heard plenty," she replied, stepping closer. "And for the record, I'm fine."
Kael gave her a long look — skeptical, but affectionate. "You don't look fine."
"I don't look anything right now, I just woke up."
That earned the smallest laugh from him, soft and human. "Fair enough."
---
Leaving the Courtyard
They walked together toward the balcony overlooking the lower grounds. The view stretched out in gold and green, sunlight glinting off the distant lake. Workers moved below — rebuilding, planting, living.
Dravenhart was alive again.
Zelene leaned on the railing, eyes half-lidded. "It feels… lighter."
"It is," Kael said. "For once, this place doesn't want to devour its own."
Ray muttered under his breath, "High praise."
Zelene smirked. "Don't let him fool you, Ray. He's getting sentimental too."
Kael shot her a look — mock glare, more fond than annoyed. "I'm still your Duke."
"Mm. And yet," she said, tilting her head, "I distinctly remember saving your life."
"That was a team effort," Darius's voice called from below, breaking their moment. He was directing a group of workers, but his grin said he'd overheard every word.
"Don't forget who dragged your half-dead bodies through half the kingdom!"
Ray muttered, "He'll milk that for years."
Kael sighed. "He already does."
Zelene laughed — the sound bright, cutting through the quiet like sunlight. For a brief second, everything — the wars, the curses, the gods — felt far away.
---
That Evening
Later, as the sun sank and the manor filled with amber light, Zelene paused by the library doorway. Inside, Kael was seated by the window, papers scattered, pen unmoving.
She hesitated, then spoke softly. "Thank you… for bringing me home."
He looked up. "You brought this home," he said, gesturing to the warm halls beyond them. "Dravenhart was just a shell before you."
Zelene smiled faintly. "Then maybe it's time the shell learned to breathe again."
Kael's eyes met hers — tired, steady, and full of something quiet but fierce. "It already has."
---
Outside, the wind rose again, gentle through the banners. The last light of dusk kissed the tower sigils — and for the briefest heartbeat, they glowed gold once more.
As if even the Aether remembered who had saved it.