MAYA, my love.

CHAPTER 8

Jerald was returning home after a prolonged absence of several months. Having undergone extensive training with John over the years, he had been separated from his family for far too long. Unlike John who had spent most of his time away due to work commitments, Jerald managed to visit home sometimes in between. Now that he was back in the capital, he was relishing a few hard-earned days with his loved ones. Such is the life of a soldier.

On this particular day off, Jerald found himself free from the rigors of palace duties early. Despite the challenging conditions at work, he was afforded the rare pleasure of returning home daily—a luxury he had long dreamt of. As he walked through the bustling market, the aroma of fresh bread and spices mingled with the murmur of vendors and shoppers. The vibrant colors of fruits and vegetables, the numerous voices around, and the distant chime of a street musician's melody painted a lively scene.

Venturing past the market, the streets grew quieter, and he approached his neighborhood. The transition from the lively market to the serene residential area was marked by the gentle rustle of leaves and stillness in the streets. Jerald's home came into view—a modest yet inviting house, nestled amid a row of various other dwellings. Its exterior, painted in a warm, earthy hue, exuded a welcoming aura. The front garden, bordered by a neat white picket fence, showcased a carefully maintained array of flowers in full bloom, their fragrances mingling in the air.

Garments, fluttering softly in the breeze, were strung across a clothesline, adding a homely touch. The garden itself was lush and vibrant, with well-mowed grass and neatly trimmed hedges that created a sense of order and care. The smell of freshly cut grass and blooming flowers filled the air, evoking a sense of calm and contentment. This must be his wife's doing who loved gardening.

Jerald approached the door and knocked softly. Sophia, his wife, answered. Her demeanor shifted from a state of calm routine to one of palpable excitement.

"Darling, you're back!" she exclaimed with genuine joy, embracing him with all her might. Her small frame struggled to envelop him entirely, but the warmth of her embrace was undeniable. He returned the hug, his heart swelling with affection. The stress and strain of daily life, where vigilance and suspicion were constant companions, seemed to melt away in this moment of domestic tranquility. The love and tenderness from Sophia eased his usual stern disposition.

"I'm home," he said softly. "Where is Lilo?"

Lilo, the affectionate nickname for their daughter Eliana, was an endearing child of eight—full of energy, chatter, and an ever-present penchant for negotiating another sweet treat.

"She is at school," Sophia replied.

"How is she faring in her studies?"

"She is enjoying herself now. Just the other day, she proudly announced she had made her tenth friend on her twentieth day of school," Sophia said, her eyes twinkling with pride.

"Ten friends already? Those poor children," Jerald chuckled.

"Indeed, but there's a problem. She's been getting into some fights recently. Just yesterday, she punched a boy at school because he referred to her friend as chubby," Sophia's tone turned serious, reflecting her worry.

Jerald, upon hearing this, laughed heartily. "That's my girl, indeed," he said with a mixture of amusement and pride.

"Stop laughing. This is a serious matter. She has yet to learn to choose her battles wisely. And it's all because of you, you know," Sophia said, her concern evident.

"Because of me?" Jerald inquired, taken aback.

"Yes! You've imparted to her the art of fighting. She was practicing swordplay just the other day because she wants to emulate her father," Sophia said with a blend of exasperation and affection.

"That is quite adorable," Jerald remarked.

"No, it's problematic. She takes on what she terms her 'fight for justice,' and becomes involved in every dispute. What if she were to get seriously injured or injures someone else?" Sophia's gaze was earnest and pleading. Recognizing her concern, Jerald's expression softened, and he took her hand in his.

"Do not worry, my dear. I shall address this with her when she returns. It is essential to impart the principles of a swordsman. Rule Number One: Understand when not to draw your sword. Rule Number Two: Learn how to conceal the evidence if you must," he said with a serious yet reassuring tone.

"Jerald! You..." Sophia began to retort, but was silenced by Jerald's swift, tender kiss. He drew back slightly, grinning widely.

"You are so unfair," Sophia pouted, though her eyes held a playful glint.

"I am simply overjoyed to be home," he replied, leaning in for another kiss. The presence of a loving home and a cherished spouse was, indeed, a profound blessing for a soldier such as himself.