Take Me Away, Dark Lord!

The first boy bounded into the room with the kinetic energy of a released spring.

This was Castor.

Castor was a miniature, slightly more refined replica of his father.

He possessed a messy shock of bright, blazing red hair that refused to be tamed by Academy grooming standards.

His eyes were the warm, soulful amber of his mother, radiating an open, incredibly expressive, practically golden-retriever-esque friendliness.

He was grinning from ear to ear, looking around the massive Nacht estate with unabashed, wide-eyed wonder.

”Whoa!” Castor breathed, completely ignoring the terrifying Archduke of the North to stare at the vaulted ceiling. ”This place is huge! It’s so dark, though! Do you guys not have windows? I could probably blast a hole in the roof to let some light in if you want!”

”You will not blast holes in my architecture, boy,” Kaelus rumbled, shooting the energetic pre-teen a warning glare.

Castor didn’t seem intimidated in the slightest. He just laughed, a bright, booming sound. ”Sorry, Your Grace! Just trying to help with the ambiance!”

Stepping into the room behind his brother, moving with a slow, deliberate, incredibly dramatic sluggishness, was the second twin.

This was Pollux.

If Castor was the sun, Pollux was actively trying his hardest to be a total eclipse.

Pollux possessed wavy, rich auburn hair that fell flawlessly across his forehead, partially obscuring one of his eyes.

His eyes were the same amber as his mother’s, but he had narrowed them into a permanent, brooding, and highly practiced scowl.

He walked with his hands shoved deep into his pockets, his shoulders hunched, projecting an aura of intense, overwhelming, twelve-year-old angst.

Pollux looked around the opulent drawing room and let out a long, heavy, incredibly tragic sigh.

”The darkness is a reflection of the soul’s eternal burden,” Pollux muttered, his voice dropping into a pseudo-deep, edgy register. ”Light is merely an illusion we cling to in order to ignore the inevitable void.”

Seraphina, still resting on Lysandra’s hip, stopped hugging the Duchess. She slowly turned her head, her dark eyes locking onto the two boys.

Her adult mind, highly versed in the tropes of fantasy novels and anime, instantly categorized the incoming threats with ruthless efficiency.

’Target One: The Loud Jock Himbo,’ Seraphina assessed Castor, watching him actively bounce on the balls of his feet. ’Extroverted, lacks impulse control, probably sets his homework on fire.’

She shifted her gaze to the brooding, sighing twin.

’Target Two: The Tragic Edgelord,’ Seraphina analyzed Pollux, almost suppressing a snort of laughter. ’Twelve years old and he’s already quoting bad poetry about the void. He definitely practices that scowl in the mirror. He thinks he’s Sasuke Uchiha, huh... This is going to be hilarious.’

”Boys,” Leonidas barked, gesturing proudly toward Seraphina. ”Allow me to introduce the reason your mother and I have been insufferable for the last month. This is Lady Seraphina von Nacht. The Sovereign of the North.”

Castor’s amber eyes widened.

He practically sprinted across the room, stopping just in front of Lysandra, leaning in close to stare at Seraphina.

”Whoa!” Castor exclaimed, entirely lacking a filter. ”You’re tiny! Dad said you beat up a demon! How did you do that?! Do you shoot lasers from your eyes? Can you show me? I bet my fireballs are bigger than your lasers!”

Seraphina blinked, looking at the energetic boy.

She decided to play the sweet, innocent card.

”I don’t have lasers,” Seraphina chirped, smiling brightly. ”I just squish things. It’s very messy.”

”Awesome,” Castor breathed, completely enamored.

Pollux drifted over, moving at a glacial, dramatic pace.

He stopped next to his brother, shoved his hands deeper into his pockets, and looked at Seraphina through his carefully arranged bangs.

He let out another heavy, tragic sigh.

”Violence is a primitive expression of our internal torment,” Pollux murmured darkly, looking away, acting as if he were carrying the weight of the universe. ”To crush a demon is merely to mirror the crushing despair of existence.”

Seraphina stared at the edgy twelve-year-old.

She didn’t offer a sweet smile.

She tilted her head, her face completely deadpan.

”Are you tired, Pollux?” Seraphina asked loudly, her voice dripping with artificial, childish concern. ”You sigh a lot. Do you have asthma? Papa says asthma makes it hard to breathe. Or do you just have dust in your eye from your hair?”

Pollux froze.

The carefully constructed, brooding anti-hero persona hit a sudden, violent speedbump.

Castor burst into a loud, obnoxious fit of laughter, shoving his brother’s shoulder. ”Ha! She called you out, Polly! I told you that haircut makes you look like a sheepdog with allergies!”

”Shut up, Castor!” Pollux snapped, his pale cheeks flushing a violent, embarrassed pink, completely breaking his deep, edgy voice.

He glared at Seraphina, attempting to recover his dark aura. ”I do not have asthma! I am merely attuned to the sorrow of the world!”

”That sounds boring,” Seraphina stated bluntly, delivering a flawless, lethal childish-roast.

Kaelus, standing near the fireplace, felt his mood instantly improve. Watching his daughter effortlessly dismantle the Valen heirs was incredibly therapeutic.

”Well!” Leonidas clapped his hands together, ignoring his younger son’s humiliation. ”The adults have boring, tedious political matters to discuss regarding the upcoming banquet. Which means you three are banished! Go to the gardens! Get some fresh air! Castor, do not set the topiary on fire!”

”I make no promises, Father!” Castor cheered, already turning toward the glass doors leading to the estate’s massive outdoor terraces.

Lysandra gently set Seraphina down on the marble floor, smoothing her dress. ”Go play, my sweet bird. Have fun with the boys. But if they get too rowdy, you can come right back to me.”

”Okay, Auntie Lysa!”

Seraphina turned, her small leather boots tapping against the marble as she waddled after the two towering pre-teens.

The pink ember-puppy, Ignis, uncurled from his spot near the sofa and happily trotted after her, sensing playtime.

The gardens of the Nacht Capital Estate were meticulously manicured, and currently bathed in warm afternoon sunlight.