Take Me Away, Dark Lord!

But the mission was not over.

’Her throat is coated in processed sugar,’ Kaelus’s paranoia dictated. ’If I allow her to sleep without proper hydration, the sugar will adhere to her vocal cords, causing a scratchy throat upon waking. Hydration is mandatory.’

Kaelus looked around the table. He found a small, crystal pitcher of cool, sweetened milk that the bakers had provided.

He didn’t wake her up. That would be cruel. He had to execute a stealth hydration maneuver.

Kaelus picked up a small silver cup, pouring a tiny amount of milk into it. He gently supported the back of her head with his left hand, cradling her sleeping form against his chest. With his right hand, he brought the rim of the silver cup to her lips.

He didn’t pour it. He channeled a delicate thread of his mana, using his magic to gently, safely guide a tiny sip of the cool milk past her lips, allowing her natural swallowing reflex to take over without any risk of aspiration.

Seraphina swallowed the milk, her face relaxing into an expression of blissful comfort.

Kaelus carefully placed the cup back on the table. He let out another long, exhausted breath.

He stood up, effortlessly scooping the deeply sleeping child entirely into his arms. He cradled her against his chest, wrapping the soft fabric of his dark cape securely around her to protect her from any drafts in the corridor.

He turned toward the terrified bakers, who were still huddled behind the counter.

”The pastries were acceptable,” Kaelus whispered, ensuring he didn’t wake her. ”You will not be banished.”

Without another word, the Reaper of the North carried his sleeping daughter out of the pavilion, his face a mask of fierce, unyielding tenderness.

The journey back to their private guest chambers on the upper levels of the Obsidian Gate was conducted in absolute, terrifying silence.

Whenever Kaelus encountered a patrol of Valen’s fire mages or servants, he didn’t need to speak; he simply leveled a glare so dark and promising of death that the entire corridor would instantly, soundlessly clear out, ensuring not a single footstep disturbed Seraphina’s slumber.

He reached the heavy oak doors of their suite. Sir Lucas and Sir Gallahan were stationed outside, standing at rigid attention.

Lucas saw the sleeping child in Kaelus’s arms. The commander immediately reached out, gripping the brass handle, and pushed the heavy door open with slowness, wincing internally as the hinges let out a squeak.

Kaelus shot Lucas a glare that promised a swift court-martial for the squeak, before stepping smoothly into the room.

The suite was dim, illuminated only by the soft, warm glow of the volcanic hearth. Kaelus walked directly toward the massive, plush four-poster bed.

He did not simply drop her onto the mattress.

’She has been running laps in the volcanic ash. She is covered in sweat and dust,’ Kaelus’s mind categorized the next hurdle. ’Placing her in the linens in this condition violates baseline hygiene protocols. Looks like I have to give her a bath before putting her on the bed.’

Kaelus walked past the bed, heading directly into the opulent, marble-lined adjoining bathroom. In the center of the room sat a massive, sunken tub carved from white stone.

Kaelus knelt by the edge of the tub, resting Seraphina securely on his knee. He waved his hand, his dark mana interacting with the enchanted faucets. Warm, perfectly temperature-controlled water began to flow silently into the basin, filling it with a soft, soothing vapor.

The Archduke of the North, a man whose hands had ended bloodlines and shattered kingdoms, proceeded to execute the most delicate, serious bath-time routine in human history.

He did not wake her.

He gently unlaced the gray linen training tunic, slipping it off her small shoulders. He supported her torso with one hand, leaning her slightly over the edge of the warm water.

Using a soft, imported sea-sponge, Kaelus delicately washed the volcanic ash from her arms, her legs, and her face. His movements were slow, precise, and executed with the surgical focus of a man defusing a bomb.

He carefully lathered a small amount of sweet-smelling, floral soap into her dark hair, gently massaging her scalp, ensuring not a single drop of water or suds fell near her closed eyes.

Seraphina let out a soft, contented murmur, leaning her head into his large hand, enjoying the VIP, subconscious spa treatment.

Kaelus rinsed the soap away with a gentle stream of warm water controlled entirely by his mana.

’Cleanse complete. Now all that is left to do is to brush her teeth,’ Kaelus noted internally.

He lifted her from the tub.

He didn’t bother searching for a mundane towel; he simply unclasped his own expensive, midnight-blue wool cape and wrapped it securely around her small, wet body, not caring that the water was soaking into his formal attire and dampening the leather of his trousers.

He carried her back into the main bedroom, laying her gently on the edge of the mattress, keeping her wrapped in the cape.

He walked over to his travel trunk, retrieving a small, soft-bristled toothbrush and a tin of mint-flavored alchemical tooth powder.

He returned to the bed, sitting beside her.

This was the trickiest work to do.

”Seraphina,” Kaelus whispered softly, gently tapping her chin. ”Open.”

Seraphina, operating on her sleepy, trusting autopilot, let her jaw drop open slightly.

Kaelus leaned in, his violet eyes narrowed in absolute concentration. He wielded the tiny toothbrush with the precision of a master fencer looking for a gap in armor. He executed a flawless, plaque-removal operation. He brushed the front, the back, and the molars, eliminating the residual pink frosting with ruthless efficiency.

He used a tiny conjured sphere of pure water to rinse her mouth, turning her head slightly so she could drool the water into a silver basin without waking up.

’Dental hygiene secured,’ Kaelus mentally checked off the box, a sense of accomplishment washing over him.

The final phase was attire.