The halls hushed, gold light spilling from gem–sconces. I turned a corner—and there she was. Madam Rosie.
{Oh...shit }
She looked as pristine as ever, even her hair couldn't sway without her permission. Her gaze landed on me like some misplaced broccoli on a silver platter.
"Good evening, Mrs–"
"I was beginning to think you'd vanished," she cuts me off, arms crossed. "The maids have been whispering about you all day."
"I'm sure they have," I muttered.
Her tone sharpened. "You disappeared yesterday, frightened everyone, luckily your Father didn't hear. and form what I've heard—you decided His Highness was a suitable escort to your bedroom?"
I blinked at her, deadpan. "I didn't decide anything. I fainted."
"That makes it better?" she scolded.
I rubbed the back of my neck. "You aren't even listening."
Rosie huffed, but her voice softened. "It's you who isn't listening. You've been through quite enough, and you still insist on running about instead of resting."
I glanced at her—her expression, though stern, carried that familiar worry. The one that hovered over me since I could walk.
"But I'm alright, I truly am" I said.
She gave me an upset look. "You're as stubborn as your father."
"Isn't that a good thing?" I asked, tilting my head slightly.
She sighed, but the edge of her mouth curved. "Sometimes."
Then she stepped aside, smoothing her skirts. "Now don't keep your father waiting, child."
"If you let me go this instant," I replied.
.><><><.
I took deep breaths before the guard opened the study doors for me, the scent of ink, parchment, and cedar washed over. Father stood by the balcony, back–faced me, moonlight over his shoulders, and his hair...messy but still beautiful. The room was dim except for the lamp on his desk.
"You called for me, Father?" I said as I stepped in.
He didn't turn immediately. "Come, iris." His tone was even. Controlled. Which was never a good sign. It meant he had been deep in thought, I wonder how long.
I went towards him, stood next to him, the evening air from his study balcony was my favorite. I visited it often. Folding my hands over the railing, relaxed. Even as my pulse drummed.
I glanced up at him. His eyes looked... Hollow?, like he hadn't truly slept since… yesterday or longer.
"I wanted to hear it from you," he said. "About what happened."
I hesitated. The memory flickered like broken glass. The forest. The crimson-eyed woman. Fur.
"I don't remember much," I sighed, sinking a little. "I don't remember… being taken. I just woke up in some sort of attic, the door was huge and wooden. It had some kind of magical lock. My influence wasn't restrained, so I used a blinkshot to break the door open and escape. It was the only spell I knew well" I chuckled softly.
Father's jaw flexed. Staring into the night beyond the balcony. "They were Runebloods." His words held clear hatred in them.
" I know. I saw their faces." I turned away, leaning my head against the railing.
" Did you hear them talking, or–"
" The crimson eyes lady...said she didn't know why I was kidnapped. I thought you would have questioned her already?" I said, unintentionally–cutting him off.
"Runebloods don't deserve to be addressed as people, Iris." His words still held hate, but his tone was soft. "They're monsters."
I took a deep breath. {Maybe. But some humans are worse. Though that's a conversation for another day.}
"The report claims they were elite assassins, who got an anonymous hire to kidnap you" He continued.
"And?" I pressed.
" It doesn't matter, a Runeblood probably paid the hire"
{Again with the prejudice crap.}
" What's going to happen to...it, then?" I asked carefully
He went still. "That is not your worry."
"It feels like it should be," I said before I could stop myself.
He exhaled, slow and heavy, and turned to me—he wasn't Duke Hampton. He was just… Sylvester. My father. A man who had too much on his mind at the moment .
"I need you to worry about yourself, and you siblings for me, that-is-not-your-worry." he said—teeth clenched at the last words.
My heart stilled. "I need to know why, why me, why her?"
He didn't answer. He squatted down to meet my eye. Held me at arms length. And I saw it—the faint shimmer in his eyes before he turned away.
He tried to blink it back, but I already saw.
Without thinking, "Father…, you have every right to break too."
"I'm fine," he said, but his voice cracked halfway through.
I touched his sleeve gently. "Mum wouldn't want you to blame yourself."
That did it. His shoulders trembled once, before he pressed a hand over his eyes.
I didn't cry. I didn't know how to comfort a grieving person, so I just held onto his arm, quiet—awkward. The night remained still. Listening.
Suddenly—footsteps. A hurried knock.
Mia burst through the door, breathless and wide-eyed. "Father!,Theo's awake!"
For all but a heartbeat. My world stopped. I could hear my heart drumming in my ears, "Theo." I breathed, relieved.
.><><><.
"Yes, yes, finish everything," Gia said, holding the glass to Theo's lips.
He downed the concoction, grimacing. "Bleg—done. Where's Iris?" he asked, impatient. wiping his mouth.
"She's coming." Gia passed the cup to a nearby maid. "Do you want to wash up first? You're all sweaty—" she started, unbuttoning his shirt.
"You said she'd be here in a few minutes."
"And she will. Just—"
Before she could finish, a voice cut in from behind.
"My boy."
The voice came from the doorway. Sylvester's. His tone carried both joy and exhaustion. He knelt beside the bed. "How are you feeling? Does anything hurt?"
"Dad, I'm fine." Theo said, then frowned. " Where's Iris?"
Sylvester didn't answer, just turned toward the door.
And there she was.
Iris stood by the door, her eyes glowing a deep orange.
{She's nervous, why?} Theo thought.
"Onita," he called softly. He always said it that way—gentle, like the name might break if spoken too loud.
In an instant, she crossed the room and threw her arms around him. He hugged her back just as tightly. For a moment, the world shrank to that single heartbeat—their breath, their warmth, and relief.
"You were out for three days," Iris murmured against his shoulder. "Don't ever scare me like that again, you hear?"
"You scared me first," Theo whispered, voice cracking.
She laughed softly. "Don't cry. I'm right here, aren't I?"
"Yes," Gia said, slipping into the with a grin. "We're all here."
She leaned in, looping her arms around them both. Gesturing at Mia to join in. Mia moved closer,acting nonchalant, before Gia pulled her into the reunion.
Sylvester followed, hesitant at first, then firm, pulling them all in close.
It was perfectly—awkward, a little messy.
But it was their first family hug without Lauretta. And for the first time, they didn't feel so empty.