The next morning, the estate grounds were alive with a kind of quiet excitement. The Vale family had decided — today, the secret garden would be born.
Aren stood at the center of a secluded, forgotten part of the grounds, sunlight dappling through ancient oaks and soft grass rising to his boots. Selene stood at his side, her violet eyes sparkling with mirth as she watched her husband frown thoughtfully at the wild space.
Elara and Mira were there too — Mira practically vibrating with energy, while Elara clutched a small notebook where she had carefully sketched out her ideas the night before.
Lyra and Darian stood a respectful distance back, choosing to let the grandparents and grandchildren take the lead. Today was for them.
Aren knelt down and brushed the earth with his hand, his touch gentle. His golden eyes softened as the soil seemed to respond, the grass bending toward him almost reverently.
He smiled.
"Alright," he said, rising to his full height. "This land is ours now."
"Where do we start, Grandpa?" Mira chirped, bouncing.
Aren ruffled her hair. "We start with dreams."
Selene laughed softly, reaching into the basket she had prepared. Seeds of rare flowers, vines that glowed faintly in the moonlight, tiny saplings of elegant trees — all gifts Aren had gathered from across the continents long ago but never had reason to plant.
Now, finally, he did.
Each girl chose a spot: Mira picked a corner where she envisioned a tiny fairy village, complete with colorful flowers and tiny bridges. Elara, serious as always, wanted a shaded glade for reading and quiet moments.Aren, for his part, chose the center — a large, open patch where the family could sit together under the shade of a living, growing dome he would create with magic and patience.
And Selene?Selene chose to plant a ring of lavender and silver bellflowers around the entire garden, like a soft embrace.
They spent the morning planning and laughing. Aren called on his ancient power just enough to help the seeds root and the saplings stretch toward the sky. But he did not rush the garden into being — magic could only coax life, not replace the wonder of watching it grow.
The girls helped with their own tiny shovels, dirt streaking their cheeks and dresses, and Aren only laughed, letting Mira smear a bit of mud on his cheek in retaliation when he ruffled her too hard.
Even Elara, shy at first, was gently pulled into the fun. Mira insisted on braiding tiny flower stems into Elara's hair, and when Aren casually declared her "the most beautiful little knight the garden had ever seen," Elara blushed crimson and hid her face behind her notebook.
Selene leaned back against a tree and simply watched — her husband, their grandchildren, the seeds of something new taking root before her eyes. Her heart was so full it ached.
By midday, the garden was still only beginning, but it already felt alive.A small pond glittered under the sun. A grassy hollow formed naturally at the center. The trees whispered ancient songs.
And in the heart of it all was Aren — no longer the Grand Duke, the legend, the semi-divine warlord — but simply a man building a little heaven for his family with his own hands.
As the girls sprawled in the grass, exhausted and happy, Aren sat beside Selene, slipping his arm around her waist.
"You see?" he murmured against her ear, voice thick with contentment. "This is the real legacy I wanted."
Selene tilted her face toward him, her smile radiant. "It's beautiful, Aren. More than any title you ever bore."
He kissed her forehead gently.
The secret garden had begun — and it would grow with them, piece by piece, a monument to the life they had chosen to build together.
A sanctuary where love, not duty, ruled.