31. Caelric #2
The tension breaks as Nerina rises from her chair with fluid grace, moving to embrace both Aurelia and Alaric simultaneously.
"Well, now that the men have finished their territorial display," she says, platinum hair cascading around all three of them, "perhaps we can focus on more important matters. Like how often I'm allowed to visit without causing a diplomatic incident."
Aurelia laughs, the sound bright and warm despite the melancholy underlying our gathering. "As often as you like. I'll need allies in navigating Orthani society."
"Allies?" Emeric's crimson eyes glint with mischief from the windows. "Nerina will conquer half their nobility within a fortnight. The other half will spend their time composing terrible poetry about her eyes."
"How wonderfully predictable," Nerina sighs, though her smile betrays genuine amusement.
As the evening progresses, conversation flows between practical arrangements and family memories, each sibling contributing their own mixture of advice and affection.
Yet beneath the warmth, I find myself studying Aurelia's face, seeing past her composed exterior to the sacrifice she's making.
She's leaving everything familiar—our estate, our traditions, our daily interactions—to secure both families' futures.
The weight of her choice settles heavily on my shoulders.
Later, as the gathering begins to disperse and Alaric speaks quietly with Asterion about estate management, I catch Aurelia's attention with a subtle gesture. She follows me onto the moonlit terrace, her sapphire gown flowing like liquid shadow in the silver light.
"You wanted to speak privately?" She settles onto the stone balustrade, violet eyes reflecting starlight as she studies my expression.
I pace to the edge of the terrace, gathering my thoughts before turning back to face her. "I need to ask something of you. As Lady Ardyn."
Her eyebrows rise slightly at my formal tone. "Very well."
"Grant Rosalie her freedom." The words emerge more forcefully than intended, carrying the weight of everything I've been unable to say. "Officially. So she'll never belong to another household again."
Aurelia's expression shifts from curiosity to understanding, her intelligent eyes reading between the lines of my request. She's quiet for several heartbeats, considering both the legal implications and the emotional undercurrents.
"She more than deserves her freedom," she says finally, warmth filling her voice. "After everything she's endured, everything she's contributed to this investigation. But Caelric—"
"I know what you're thinking."
"Do you?" She slides down from the balustrade, moving closer until she can study my face directly. "Because what I'm thinking is that you need to make things right with her first."
The familiar ache in my chest intensifies at the mention of Rosalie. "I tried. She doesn't want my apology."
"And so you're running away?"
Her blunt assessment causes me to stiffen defensively. "I'm ensuring her future security."
"By hiding behind legal documents instead of fighting for what you want?" Aurelia crosses her arms, her diplomatic composure giving way to the fierce protectiveness that defines our family. "I never knew my brother to be a coward."
The accusation hangs in the night air, each word carefully chosen to cut through my rationalizations.
Heat rises in my chest, but beneath the initial anger, recognition dawns.
She's right. I have been running—from Father's ultimatum, from the complexity of loving someone society says I shouldn't, from the risk of choosing personal happiness over political convenience.
"She made it clear—"
"She made it clear that she's hurt." Aurelia steps closer, her voice softening without losing its intensity. "There's a difference between rejection and pain, Caelric. One is final. The other can be healed."
I turn away, staring out over the estate gardens where shadows dance between moonlit pathways. "Father made his position clear as well."
"Father is old, and not just in age. He comes from a different time, a time before King Grymlock's brother took a human wife.
And when he steps down, you'll make your own decisions about what this family represents.
" Her hand settles on my shoulder, warm and reassuring.
"But you can't lead from a position of cowardice. "
The word strikes again, this time carrying less sting and more truth.
Throughout the investigation, I demonstrated courage in facing political conspiracies, murderous nobles, and royal expectations.
Yet when confronted with the possibility of personal happiness, I retreated behind duty and tradition.
"She deserves better than someone who abandoned her at the first sign of difficulty."
"Then be better." Aurelia's grip tightens on my shoulder, demanding my attention. "Fight for her instead of running away from your feelings."
As Aurelia and Alaric's departure draws near, their belongings loaded into elegant carriages bearing House Ardyn's newly combined heraldry, her words echo in my mind with increasing clarity.
She's sacrificing everything familiar to secure our family's future, yet she's challenging me to fight for mine.
Perhaps it's time I found that courage.