Chapter 57
I woke alone.
The bed was empty beside me, Kairen's side still warm but clearly abandoned. Through the soulbond, I felt him somewhere in the Academy—not distressed, but purposeful. Moving with deliberate intent.
Where had he gone?
I sat up, disoriented. We were supposed to leave at dawn. Had he changed his mind about taking me to meet his mother? Had something happened with the Council?
Before I could spiral into worry, the door opened and Kairen appeared carrying a tray laden with breakfast—fresh bread, cheese, fruit, tea that was still steaming.
"You're awake," he said, setting the tray on the bed. "Good. I was hoping to get back before you woke up and panicked about my absence."
"Where were you?"
"Speaking with Headmistress Thorne. Making sure our departure wouldn't cause political complications she couldn't handle.
" He settled beside me, shadows calmer than they'd been in days.
"She's approved the trip. Said it's an excellent demonstration that Council restrictions are meaningless.
Also said to give my mother her regards and apologize for not visiting more frequently. "
"They know each other?"
"Noble family connections. Headmistress Thorne and my mother were friends before—" He stopped, shadows flickering. "Before my father died and everything became complicated."
Through the soulbond, I felt old grief surfacing. His father's death had changed everything—led to the dragon bond, to five years of void, to isolation that had only recently begun to crack.
"Eat," he said, pushing food toward me. "Then we'll get ready. Nyx and Aurelius will carry us. Should take about two hours flying."
"Flying," I repeated, remembering the first time Aurelius had carried me—the terrifying exhilaration of being airborne, the trust required to let a dragon hold you hundreds of feet above ground.
"You've flown with Aurelius before. This is just longer distance." His hand found mine. "And I'll be right there on Nyx. We'll fly together."
An hour later, we stood in the Academy courtyard where Aurelius and Nyx waited. Both dragons radiated satisfaction at this trip—not just the political statement, but genuine pleasure at leaving Academy grounds.
"Finally," Nyx said as Kairen climbed onto her back. "I was beginning to think we'd be trapped in that Academy forever while politicians debated your right to exist."
"We're making a statement," Kairen said, settling into position between her shoulder blades. "That Council votes mean nothing to us."
"Good." Nyx's voice held fierce approval. "Let them see that dragon bonds answer to dragons, not bureaucrats."
I climbed onto Aurelius more carefully, still not entirely comfortable with the height and exposure. His scales were warm beneath me, and I felt his reassurance through our bond.
"Hold on," he said. "And enjoy the flight. It's a beautiful morning."
They launched simultaneously—powerful beats of wings carrying us skyward. The Academy dropped away below, becoming a collection of buildings rather than the overwhelming presence it had been for months.
We flew east, following the road but staying high enough that we were clearly visible to anyone watching. Two dragons, two bonded humans, making absolutely clear they weren't restricted or hiding.
The flight was exhilarating. Cold wind whipped past, making my eyes water, but the view was incredible. Rolling hills, forests still holding winter dormancy, small villages that looked like toy collections from this height.
Through the soulbond, I felt Kairen's contentment. He loved flying—the freedom, the perspective, the escape from ground-bound complications. Up here, there were no Council members or conspiracies. Just wind and sky and dragons who'd survived centuries.
After two hours, Nyx began descending. Below, an enormous estate came into view.
"We're here," Kairen said through the bond connection that let us communicate despite wind noise.
The Draxen estate was massive. Rolling lawns stretched in every direction, carefully maintained even in winter.
Gardens showed structured elegance beneath dormancy.
And at the center sat a manor that was less house and more architectural statement.
Three stories of pale stone, dozens of windows, the kind of building that spoke of centuries of accumulated wealth and power.
"This is where you grew up," I said as Aurelius landed in a clear space near the main entrance.
"This is where I learned to navigate noble politics before dragon bonds made everything complicated." His voice was dry. "Try not to be too intimidated. It's just a house."
"It's a palace."
"It's ostentatious. But it's home." Through the soulbond, I felt his complicated emotions—affection for familiar space mixed with memories of loss, of leaving for the Academy and returning changed by void.
The front doors opened before we could even dismount.
A woman stood there—mid-forties, dark hair pulled back in a simple braid, storm-gray eyes exactly like Kairen's. She wore practical clothes rather than formal gowns, and her expression when she saw Kairen was pure maternal relief.
She didn't wait for formal greetings. She ran down the steps, not caring about dignity or propriety, and pulled Kairen into a fierce hug the moment his feet touched the ground.
"Finally," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "Three months of letters saying you're fine while clearly not being fine, and now you show up looking actually alive for the first time in five years."
"Mother, I can't breathe—"
"Good. You deserve to be smothered for worrying me." But she released him, turning those sharp eyes on me as I slid down from Aurelius. "And you must be Serenya. The light dragon bond who's made my son remember how to feel."
I opened my mouth to give some formal greeting—then noticed she wasn't wearing the elaborate jewelry or formal attire I'd expected from a noble matriarch. She looked like someone who'd been working in the gardens, practical and unconcerned with ceremony.
"I'm Serenya Vale," I managed. "Thank you for having me—"
"Oh, stop." She waved away formality, moving forward to take my hands in hers.
Her grip was warm, callused from work rather than soft from luxury.
"You're soulbound to my son. You've been sleeping in the same bed for weeks based on his letters.
We're past formal courtesy." She studied me with obvious assessment, but her expression was kind.
"You're shorter than I expected. And paler.
Do you eat properly at that Academy? You look like you need a proper meal. "
"Mother—" Kairen's voice held warning.
"I'm asking reasonable questions. She looks like she needs feeding." But her expression was approving, warm. "Come inside. Both of you. We'll have tea and you can tell me everything that's actually happening instead of Kairen's carefully edited letter versions."
Through the soulbond, I felt Kairen's relief. His mother wasn't going to interrogate me about propriety or noble protocols. She was just... happy. Happy he was feeling again. Happy I existed.
And standing near the doorway, partially hidden behind a column, was a small figure.
A girl, perhaps ten years old, with Kairen's storm-gray eyes and dark hair pulled into practical braids. She wore simple clothes and watched us with the kind of intense curiosity that only children managed.
"Lyssa," Kairen's mother called. "Come say hello to your brother and meet Serenya."
The girl emerged from behind the column, moving with a mixture of shyness and determination. She looked up at Kairen first.
"Hello, Kairen," she said formally. Then her eyes moved to me, widening slightly. "You're really pretty. Prettier than the portraits of light dragon bonds in the history books."
"Lyssa!" Kairen's voice held embarrassment.
"What? She is!" Lyssa moved closer, studying me with open fascination. "Are you really his girlfriend?"
"Lyssa—"
"It's okay," I said, kneeling down to be at her eye level. "Yes, I suppose I am."
Lyssa's eyes went huge. Then she leaned in close, cupping her hands around her mouth like she was about to tell me a top secret.
I leaned closer, and she whispered—though not quietly enough that everyone couldn't hear: "Does that mean you kiss?
Because Mother says that people who are in love kiss, but Kairen told me five years ago that he'd never kiss anyone because emotions were 'inefficient complications.
' But now he writes about you all the time so I thought maybe he changed his mind about the kissing thing. "
My face heated. Behind me, I heard Kairen make a sound of pure mortification.
"Lyssa," he said, his voice strangled. "You can't just ask—"
"Why not? I'm curious!" Lyssa looked between us with complete innocence. "You said in your last letter that Serenya makes you feel things you thought were gone forever. Mother said that was romantic. Romantic people kiss. I read about it in her books."
"What books?" Kairen's mother asked sharply.
"The ones in the library with the fancy covers. They had lots of kissing." Lyssa turned back to me, still whispering. "So do you? Kiss? Because if you do, that means Kairen was wrong about emotions being inefficient, and I want to tell him I told you so."
Through the soulbond, I felt Kairen's absolute mortification mixing with reluctant affection. His ten-year-old sister was interrogating me about our relationship with the kind of directness only children managed.
"We have kissed," I admitted quietly. "And yes, your brother was wrong about emotions being inefficient."
"I KNEW IT!" Lyssa shouted triumphantly, spinning to face Kairen. "You were wrong! Emotions aren't inefficient! You kiss Serenya and you write emotional letters and you're not being consumed by void anymore so obviously feelings are good actually!"
"Lyssa—" Kairen's face was red. "Can we not—"
"This is wonderful," Kairen's mother said, laughing. "Lyssa, darling, maybe let them come inside before you interrogate Serenya about all your brother's personal business."
"But I have more questions! Like, are you going to get married? Because Mother says soulbonds usually lead to marriage and I want to be a flower girl if there's a wedding. I've never been a flower girl. It looks fun in the books."
"Inside," Kairen said firmly, scooping his sister up despite her protests. "You can ask invasive questions after we've had tea and Serenya has recovered from dragon flight."
He carried her toward the door, Lyssa still talking enthusiastically about weddings and flower arrangements and whether dragons could attend ceremonies.
Kairen's mother took my arm gently, guiding me toward the entrance. "I apologize for Lyssa. She's at the age where she has no filter and infinite curiosity. Especially about Kairen since he's been gone so much."
"She's wonderful," I said honestly. "Direct, but wonderful."
"She's been desperate to meet you since Kairen's letters started containing actual emotion.
Before you bonded, his letters were..." She paused, searching for words.
"Mechanical. Status reports. Empty of everything except facts.
But after you appeared, they changed. Became real again.
She noticed, and she's been asking about you constantly. "
We entered the manor—the entrance hall was grand but somehow felt lived-in rather than museum-like. Family portraits lined the walls, comfortable furniture suggested actual use rather than decoration.
"Come," Kairen's mother said, leading us toward a sitting room. "We'll have tea, Lyssa can ask her thousand questions, and you can tell me everything about this Council nonsense that has my son publicly challenging political authority."
Through the soulbond, I felt Kairen's mix of embarrassment and contentment. His family was warm, accepting, completely unconcerned with the formality I'd been dreading.
And Lyssa was still asking questions, her voice carrying from where Kairen had set her down: "But seriously, Kairen, if you kiss her does that mean you love her?
Because Mother says people only kiss people they love and you said love was an inefficient emotion but now you're kissing Serenya so does that mean—"
"Lyssa," Kairen said with infinite patience. "I will answer exactly one more relationship question and then you have to talk about literally anything else."
"Okay! Do you love her?"
Through the soulbond, I felt Kairen freeze. Felt his struggle to answer a ten-year-old's direct question with the same honesty he'd been learning to give me.
"Yes," he said finally. "I love her. Even though it's complicated and terrifying and I'm still figuring out how to do it properly. Yes."
"Good!" Lyssa sounded satisfied. "That's all I needed to know. Now can I ask Serenya if she loves you back or is that too many relationship questions?"
"That's too many relationship questions."
"But I need to know if she loves you back! What if it's one-sided? That would be sad. The books say one-sided love is tragic."
"What books?" Kairen's mother asked again. "Lyssa, we need to discuss your library choices."
I entered the sitting room to find Kairen looking mortified, Lyssa looking triumphant, and his mother trying not to laugh at the entire situation.
This was his family. Direct, warm, completely unconcerned with propriety or formality. Just genuine people who were happy to see Kairen alive and happy to meet the person who'd helped him feel again.
And as Lyssa immediately came over to hold my hand and pull me toward the couch, asking if I wanted to see her drawings of what Aurelius might look like based on Kairen's descriptions, I felt something settle in my chest.
This was what family felt like.
And somehow, despite everything being complicated and dangerous and politically fraught, I was becoming part of it.
One direct question from a ten-year-old at a time.