The king of Arynn Frey was dead. The reality hung heavy around his shoulders like a leaden blanket. It was the queen of Lorendale that had delivered the news. Had described in detail through tears what it was to see the life leave the Arynnite’s body. The king of Arynn Frey was dead. Whoever would be next?

He went to the room where he knew his niece was minding the children. It was no small feat, Hadrian was sure. Lorelle was a notoriously difficult child—prone to tantrums, fits of anger, however well her mother Ophelia tried to hide it. Ophelia. The little witch that had once been Nevermere’s darling, it’s prize flower, now a widow so young…

Hadrian knocked at the door before entering. When he saw Valeria, he smiled immediately shutting the door behind him.

“Minnow.”

Hadrian looked her over. Valeria had been evacuated quickly, but paternal affection still made him worry. He followed where she indicated, and walked toward the side-room away from the children after calling in a nursemaid to look after them. Once the side-room door closed, Hadrian exhaled a long side.

“The king…” Hadrian said slowly, “King Akagi. He is dead.” There was no easy way—might as well cut straight to it.

“She is safe and in Arynn Frey,” Hadrian responded, “Much remains in flux. She’s asked that the children remain here for now, and you with them.” He sighed, shaking his head, “I can’t say I’m disappointed. It’s good to have you here. Safe.”

Hadrian chuckled. Yes, he knew exactly what she meant. Being a soldier wasn’t something one simply turned off when they took of their armor. It was a way of life that they would never fully be rid of.

“There shouldn’t be…” He said with a sigh and a loving smile, “But such are the times that we live in.”

Hadrian smiled. He admittedly hadn’t seen Keir or the child in…a long time. A very long time. In fact, when had he seen them last? No matter, he wouldn’t indicate that now. He’d feign familiarity.

“Both well,” Hadrian said with a smile, “Lucky to have a father that cares for her so.” He was surprised by the hug, but hugged her back. In that moment, he felt ten years younger. Valeria felt like a girl again, one who needed him, that followed him about everywhere she could. But when he parted from her, the memory faded: for it was just that. A memory of a time gone by.

“I should go,” Hadrian said with a sigh, “And besides…” He looked sadly over to the door, “The children need you.”