The morning sun spilled into the Vale estate, golden and forgiving.
The grand dining hall — often solemn, often silent in days long past — now buzzed with life.
Mira bounced in her chair, swinging her legs as she told an exaggerated story about school.
Elara listened patiently, correcting Mira's wilder claims with dry, serious little comments —which Mira always found a way to twist into something even funnier.
Lyra laughed easily, teasing her daughter and niece both.Darian smiled shyly behind his teacup, still not fully comfortable with so much relaxed noise.
Selene sat beside Aren, her violet eyes bright, a small, secret smile playing on her lips.
And Aren himself?
He watched it all — the life, the chaos, the sheer warmth — with a gaze that drank it in like a man savoring water in a desert.
He laughed aloud once or twice, his deep voice sending Mira into fits of giggles.
It was a good morning.
Maybe even a perfect one.
As breakfast wound down and everyone began rising to head to their daily routines —Darian and Lyra preparing for estate matters, Mira and Elara rushing to find their schoolbags —a knock came at the great front doors.
A messenger — wearing the black-and-gold of the Imperial Household — bowed low before Aren.
"A letter, Your Grace," the man said respectfully,"from His Majesty... personally."
Aren raised an eyebrow and took the sealed scroll.
He broke the Imperial wax and read swiftly.
Then he chuckled — a low, warm sound that made Selene glance at him curiously.
"It's not an order," Aren said aloud, drawing everyone's attention."It's an invitation."
He held up the scroll.
"His Majesty — our old friend," he said lightly,"invites us to join him and his family for a private vacation."
The room buzzed with sudden excitement.
"Vacation?" Mira piped up."Like — with beaches?!"
"Where?" Elara asked more quietly, though her eyes gleamed.
"A city by the southern coast," Aren answered."Sun. Sea. White sands."
He smiled slightly.
"Starting tomorrow.He suggests we meet at the palace gates in the morning."
He paused then — not deciding alone.
He looked at his family,at the expectant faces,at the innocent, hopeful gleam in their eyes.
This...This might be the last time for years they could laugh without fear.
He would not deny them.
"What do you all think?" he asked quietly.
Selene smiled warmly.
"It would be good," she said."For all of us."
Lyra laughed.
"I think we all need some sun before Father drags us into training until we drop."
Mira was already shouting "Beach! Beach! Beach!" and trying to do a dance with her schoolbag.
Even Elara nodded firmly.
Darian smiled and said:
"I'll make the arrangements with the school for a week's leave."
Aren nodded slowly, the decision settling in his heart like a precious stone.
"Very well," he said.
"We leave tomorrow."
The estate buzzed the rest of the day.
Plans were made. Bags were getting packed. Mira tried to sneak ridiculous toys into the luggage, only to be gently reprimanded. Selene and Lyra discussed clothes and sunhats. Even Darian — serious, stoic Darian — looked a little lighter as he handled the logistics.
That night, long after the household quieted down,Aren stood alone at the terrace, gazing up at the stars.
He whispered into the wind:
"Thank you... for this small gift of peace."
His golden eyes burned with quiet fire.
Whatever awaited him after this —he would face it.
But for now,he would give them memories untouched by fear.
A single week.
A single eternity.
Bought with blood yet unpaid.