Take Me Away, Dark Lord!

It was the most absurd, hilarious, and aggressively endearing thing she had ever heard.

”So, you see, My Lady,” Gallahan said, his eyes dancing with affection. ”When the Duke walked into that orphanage... a place filled with crying, terrified children... and you, a tiny, chubby-cheeked toddler, waddled up and hugged his leg?”

Gallahan spread his hands in a gesture of absolute defeat.

”He didn’t stand a chance. It was a critical hit! His brain said ’tactical bait’, but his heart said ’Must protect the small, fluffy creature at all costs!’. Why do you think he immediately bought you strawberries? Why do you think he let you turn Imperial tax documents into paper ducks? The man is utterly, hopelessly compromised by cuteness!”

A bubble of pure joy erupted in Seraphina’s chest.

She threw her head back and laughed.

It was a loud, clear, musical sound that chased the last lingering shadows of tragedy from the grand library.

The absurdity of it all, the terrifying monster who was secretly a massive softie, the tragedy that had forced him to hide his gentle heart behind a wall of ice, and the ridiculous, wonderful family of outcasts she had somehow stumbled into, it was perfect.

It was better than any novel she had ever read.

The knights smiled, watching her laugh, the heavy burden of their shared history lifting as they basked in the bright, uncomplicated joy of the child they had all sworn to protect.

CLACK!

The sound of the heavy iron latch of the library’s double doors turning echoed loudly, cutting through the laughter like a knife.

Instantly, the atmosphere in the room snapped back to a military baseline.

Lucas, Gallahan, and Boris were on their feet in a second, their hands resting on their weapon hilts, their faces returning to grim, stoic masks.

The massive mahogany doors swung open.

Duke Kaelus von Nacht stepped into the library.

He was dressed in full combat armor, the heavy mythril plates gleaming softly in the sunlight.

His dark cape billowed behind him, and Requiem hung heavy at his hip.

He looked tired; the dark circles under his eyes had not entirely faded, but the exhausted, vulnerable father from the morning was gone.

The Reaper had returned.

His posture was rigid, his jaw set, his violet eyes sweeping the room with calculating precision before locking onto Seraphina.

”Report,” Kaelus demanded smoothly, his voice echoing off the vaulted ceilings.

”No anomalies detected, Your Grace,” Lucas barked, executing a flawless, sharp salute. ”The perimeter is secure. The Lady has been resting and... reviewing historical texts.”

Kaelus raised an eyebrow, his gaze drifting to the chaise lounge.

Seraphina was sitting up, her legs dangling.

She looked at him.

Ten minutes ago, she would have seen the terrifying warlord.

She would have seen the brooding, emotionally constipated Duke who used her as bait.

But now, she looked at him with new eyes.

She saw the seventeen-year-old boy who had picked up a sword to save a broken family.

She saw the man who had watched his siblings drive away in the snow.

She saw the terrifying monster who secretly bottle-fed demonic foals and harbored three-legged kittens.

She saw her dad.

Kaelus frowned slightly, noticing the strange, intense way she was staring at him.

He stepped forward, his heavy boots thudding against the floor.

”Seraphina,” Kaelus said, his tone softening slightly as he approached the chaise lounge. ”Is something amiss? Do you feel ill again?”

He reached out, instinctively pulling off his heavy iron gauntlet, intending to press his bare hand against her forehead to check for a fever.

Seraphina didn’t answer.

Instead, the moment he was within reach, she launched herself off the chaise lounge.

She didn’t grab his leg this time.

She threw her small arms around his waist, burying her face directly into the cold, hard mythril of his breastplate, hugging him with every ounce of strength her tiny body possessed.

Kaelus froze, his bare hand hovering awkwardly in the air.

He looked down at the top of her messy, dark hair.

He looked over at his knights.

Lucas, Gallahan, and Boris were staring at the ceiling, pretending to be deeply fascinated by the architecture, though Gallahan was actively wiping a suspicious speck of dust from his eye.

”Seraphina,” Kaelus murmured, profound confusion lacing his deep voice. He awkwardly lowered his hand, resting it gently on her back. ”What is the meaning of this sudden assault?”

Seraphina squeezed her arms tighter around his armored waist.

”Daddy,” she mumbled into his breastplate, her voice muffled but fiercely convinced. ”You’re just a big, stupid, handsome, and grumpy hedgehog who hides his soft belly.”

Kaelus blinked.

The tactical engine in his brain misfired completely.

”...A hedgehog?” Kaelus repeated, entirely bewildered. He glared at Gallahan. ”What stupid texts have you been allowing her to read again?”

”I am completely innocent, Your Grace!” Gallahan squeaked, retreating a step.

Seraphina pulled her face away from his armor and looked up at him, her dark eyes shining with an affection so pure and unconditional it made Kaelus’s chest ache.

”ISir Pawsington,” she declared triumphantly.

Kaelus von Nacht, the Archduke of the North, the man who did not flinch before charging demon lords, visibly flinched.

A faint, nearly imperceptible flush of pink touched the tips of his pale ears.

His terrifying violet eyes slowly turned, fixing his three elite commanders with a glare that promised a slow, agonizing death by a thousand ice shards.

”I am going to execute all of you,” Kaelus promised softly, his voice a dangerous, silky whisper. ”Tell me, should I string you from the highest tower of the Bastion and let the ravens pick your bones clean?”

”It was Gallahan’s fault!” Boris immediately threw his comrade under the carriage, backing away toward the door.

”Traitor!” Gallahan gasped, clutching his heart.

”Don’t be mad at them, they saw I was sad, so they told me stories to distract me!” Seraphina giggled, tugging on his belt to regain his attention. She smiled up at him, a wide, missing-tooth grin.