"Fufufu. Don't be shy. Eat as much as you like."
The moment the storm settled, Lady Fiora invited us to share a meal. Her face, once stiff and shadowed with unshed tears, now glowed with a warmth I hadn't seen before—open, almost joyful.
"Mushrooms, potatoes, bread, wine, pudding, even fish from the northern coast—what don't they have?" Fleda whispered, nudging me.
"Being a noble really lets you do anything."
I ignored Fleda, my eyes glued to the parade of dishes the maids laid out on the table. That they could serve such a spread in the middle of a famine—it hit hard. For commoners like us, a meal this grand was a pipe dream.
"...Remember, sis. Eat just enough."
"Of course, Fleda."
Bon appétit.
As I chewed, Lady Fiora started firing questions our way.
"So, how did you convince Karl to change his mind?"
"Well—"
"Let me answer that, Mother."
However, Alruna eventually took over, fielded most of the questions. Fleda and I just added small details every now and then.
Honestly, nothing else mattered right then but enjoying every bite. The air hummed with the rich scent of spices, and the food's delicate textures melted on my tongue. It was perfection.
The tart zing of pickled vegetables woke my senses, followed by the fiery depth of black pepper sauce. Then came the crème brûlée, its sweetness dissolving in my mouth, and the grilled fish, savory and just salty enough. Every flavor swirled and danced, daring my taste buds to keep up.
In a word, the meal was divine. This wasn't just lunch—it was heaven spinning inside my mouth. Each bite was a memory I'd carry forever.
"Fufu, is that so?" Lady Fiora sipped her ruby-red wine from a crystal glass. Sunlight streamed through the window, making the liquid shimmer like a jewel. "I owe you both my thanks." Her smile was warm, genuine, as she looked at Fleda and me.
"You're too kind, Lady Fiora."
"Mmm." She shook her head. "I never wanted Alruna forced into the Gustav mantle. But I've learned some burdens can't be dodged—not for a Gustav."
"..."
I stole a glance to Alruna, trying to read her reaction. Her face was flat, but her eyes stared at the food as if it were a pile of pebbles.
"Your father's like a boulder—unmoving. It was the same with your brother, Alruna."
"...Brother Julius?"
"Yes. What if..." Lady Fiora's gaze dropped to her wine, her voice softening, "he didn't die from a monster?"
Alruna's eyes widened, as if lightning had struck her. "W-what do you mean, Mother?"
"Maybe now is the right time to tell you everything."
Lady Fiora exhaled deeply, setting her glass down with care. "Julius... he was too gentle for this brutal world."
Fleda and I exchanged a tense look. The cozy warmth of the room turned heavy, thick with secrets. Even the food's tempting aroma faded.
"He had a gentle heart, an artist's soul, and a never-ending curiosity. But your father...." Madame Fiora paused, searching for words. "Your father only saw him as an heir. The next Gustav. Not as Julius."
Alruna stayed silent, her head dipping. Her golden hair veiled her face, but her shoulders quivered faintly.
"Julius tried so hard," Lady Fiora went on, her voice trembling. "He studied until his eyes burned, trained with a sword until he collapsed, attended every council and gala. He wanted to make your father proud, to be the heir Karl demanded. And Isabel—his mother—she pushed him just as hard, desperate for him to shine, to secure her ambitions and her love for Karl." Her eyes darkened. "But that weight broke him. One night..."
She drew a ragged breath. "...Julius vanished. We scoured the estate, Gaede, the forests beyond the walls. Nothing. Until..."
Tears rolled down Lady Fiora's cheeks. She wiped them away with the back of her hand, struggling to remain calm.
"We found him at a cliff outside the city. He... he jumped."
The room fell silent, the kind of silence that hurts. Fleda and I chewed our food quietly, the sweet milk pudding now bitter on my tongue.
"So... Julius took his own life?" Alruna's voice was a whisper, raw and fragile.
Lady Fiora nodded slowly. "We hid the truth. Your father couldn't bear to have Gustav's name tarnished. He claimed Julius was killed by a monster. A lie we all agreed on."
Alruna's hands clenched, her voice shaking. "And after Julius was gone... Father made me the heir. Without asking if I wanted it. Me—the concubine's daughter, the one he ignored all my life."
Lady Fiora's expression hardened, a hint of sadness crossing her face.
"You were never meant to carry this burden, Alruna. As my daughter, you inherited my weakness—my fragile body and my asthma. But I still see you as the greatest gift in my life."
I felt a tightness in my chest. For the next half an hour or so, Lady Fiora made us listen to a series of unexpected confessions, even for Alruna.
So, Alruna, Lady Fiora's daughter with Karl Gustav—his concubine's child—was never meant to carry the Gustav name. Shunned by the family, barely a shadow to them, she was nothing to Isabel, Karl's lawful wife.
Isabel would ignore Alruna's asthma, leaving her gasping, caring only for her own son, Julius. But Julius... he was different. He adored Alruna, sneaking her treats, calling her his little sister, cheering her through his endless study and training. To Alruna, he was a hero, the brother who could do anything.
All his life, Julius had been forced to be perfect, driven by Isabel's unrequited love for Karl and her political ambitions. When Julius took his life, it broke her. Isabel withered away, consumed by grief, and died soon after. The weight of her loss hung heavy in Fiora's words, each one laced with sorrow.
Karl's coldness started to make sense. He loved Fiora deeply, but politics bound him to Isabel, a senator's daughter he wanted only for her family's influence. His heart was never with his lawful wife, only with the woman he couldn't fully claim.
Julius was his chosen heir, molded with brutal precision to lead the Gustavs. Every lesson, every expectation, was carved into him with unyielding rigor. He was meant to carry the family's legacy, no matter the cost.
Alruna, Karl's daughter with Fiora, was supposed to live free of that burden. She was the child of his true love, meant for a gentler life. But Julius's death left Karl no choice—he turned to her, raising her with the same iron hand, forging her into an heir despite the pain it caused.
"...I get it now." Alruna's tears fell freely. "He was... my hero. He could do anything. I looked up to him so much."
"I know, darling," Lady Fiora said, her voice cracking. "Julius was good to you, despite Isabel's coldness and Karl's iron rule. He saw you as family, not just the concubine's child."
I swallowed hard, my fingers clenching the spoon until my knuckles whitened.
Karl's actions baffled me, twisting my gut with disbelief. How could he let duty smother his heart like that? Julius was proof of his failure—crushed under the weight of being the "perfect" Gustav. Yet, he turned around and did the same to Alruna, caging her in the same brutal mold, as if love meant nothing next to his obsession with legacy. I wanted to scream at the injustice of it, but Lady Fiora's voice, soft and strained, pulled me back to the moment.
"Your father wanted to protect you, in his twisted way," Lady Fiora said, her voice barely above a whisper. "He chose Julius because he wanted you to live peacefully, unburdened. But when Julius was gone, he had no one else. That's why he's so hard on you, Alruna. He thinks toughness will make you strong enough to carry the Gustav name."
Alruna's voice broke. "He's not a father—he's a tyrant. He pushes me to train, to study, past what my body can take. He doesn't care if I'm hurting."
Lady Fiora reached for Alruna's hand, gripping it tightly. "I know. I loved him once, but I hate what he's done to you. I fought him every step, begging him to let you be. But he's blinded by duty."
"That's not fair, Alruna," I cut in, unable to stay silent. "You deserve to live for yourself, not just for the Gustavs. You're more than their heir."
Fleda nodded fiercely. "Sis's right. You're Alruna—strong, kind, yet sometimes clumsy. Not some pawn for their legacy."
Alruna looked at us, tears streaming down her face. "Thank you... thank you for reminding me."
"Fufu," Lady Fiora gave a soft, tearful laugh. "I'm so proud of you, Alruna. You stood up to your father, chose your own path. Even if you'll carry this family's future, you'll do it your way."
She squeezed Alruna's hand, her voice firm with love. "Julius would be proud. And Isabel... deep down, she knew your strength, even if she never showed it."
Alruna returned the grip, her voice steady despite her tears. "I'll try, Mother. I'll be the heir they need—but I'll be me, too."
Fleda and I smiled, relieved to know Alruna would be alright. Especially after she knelt before me and swore a knight's oath. Whatever lies ahead, Alruna has the strength and courage to face it.
***
"Hey, Adele."
"Hm? What is it?" I turned my face.
Alruna hesitated, then murmured, "Once again... thank you." Her tone was gentle but heavy with unspoken thoughts. She then turned her face away using the blanket as a shield.
"You're welcome."
That night, the vast emerald room felt eerily quiet. Moonlight slipped through the window, casting a soft glow across the corners. I pulled the blanket tighter around me, the cold air creeping in despite the shut windows.
Because of what happened earlier this morning, I had trouble sleeping for a while. Luckily, Alruna was there to accompany me as a conversation partner. Meanwhile, Fleda was still sleeping soundly as she drooled on her pillow. Who knows what was in her dreams at that time.
"All of this... it's heavy. After what Mother told us today—about Julius, Lady Isabel, and what my father expects—I feel trapped. Pathetic, isn't it? After all that talk in front of Mother."
I moved closer, careful not to disturb Fleda. "You're not pathetic, Alruna. You stood up to your father. That's no small thing."
Her blue eyes peeked out, shimmering in the moonlight. "But what if I can't meet his expectations? What if I fail like Julius?"
I rested a hand on her shoulder. "You're not Julius. You're Alruna. You don't have to be perfect—just be yourself. That's enough."
Her lips trembled as she sighed. "My father... he'll never be satisfied. He thinks I need to break to become strong."
"He's wrong," I said firmly. "Strength isn't about never breaking. It's about knowing when to stand and when to lean on others. You've got me, Fleda, Manfred, your mother, Irma, Claudia, and others—you're not alone."
A faint smile flickered on her face. "You always know what to say, don't you?"
I chuckled. "Not always. But I've learned a lot from you."
Silence settled between us, broken only by Fleda's soft breathing and the faint rustle of the night wind. Moonlight danced on the walls, a quiet comfort amid our storm of thoughts.
"Ten days," Alruna muttered suddenly. "It feels like forever, yet not enough time."
"Yeah," I agreed. "A lot happened. But tomorrow, we leave this place. Back to... our real home."
She looked at me, her expression unreadable. "Home, huh? Without realizing it, Claudia's mansion became a place for us to return to."
I smiled confidently. "It is. At least until we saved enough money to buy a house somewhere in the city. Moreover, there are too many precious memories there to forget. And we'll be there with you."
Her small smile returned, and she leaned against me, resting her head on my shoulder. "Thank you, Adele. For everything."
"Always."
In that moonlit moment, the world beyond the Gustav estate faded away. It was just us, sharing a fleeting peace before leaving this place for good. Soon, my eyelids felt heavy and the room went dark.
***