Veiled Bonds

A Place of Rest

The grandeur of the palace was overwhelming, its tall, intricate arches and glittering chandeliers casting a soft glow over every corner. Elowen and Hanna walked through the halls in awe, their gazes flitting between the ornate decorations and the wide, welcoming spaces. Despite the beauty surrounding them, there was a palpable tension in the air, underscored by Kaelan’s absence. He had stubbornly refused to join the tour, choosing instead to isolate himself in the farthest wing, adamantly avoiding the kings and other supernatural beings.

As the group made their way through the palace, Elowen couldn’t help but notice the subtle attention the kings gave to Anastasia. It was protective and cautious, as if losing sight of her for even a moment would bring calamity. They hadn’t offered her a room of her own, and while Elowen found it odd, she decided not to voice her thoughts—perhaps they had their reasons.

In the room Elowen was assigned, little Rony was already asleep, curled up on the plush bed as if it were the most comfortable place in the world. Hanna had been given a room beside hers, but there was a deliberate lack of mention about Anastasia’s accommodations.

The tour continued, leading them to the throne room, its expansive ceilings painted with scenes of ancient battles and victories. Hanna ran her fingers along the cool marble pillars while Elowen marveled at the golden inlays that seemed to shimmer in the dim light. Anastasia, however, had grown quiet.

By the time they reached the kitchen, its hearth still glowing with the warmth of a recent meal, she had fallen fast asleep in Lysander’s arms, her soft snoring filling the quiet spaces between conversations. Lysander’s gaze softened as he cradled her small form, his usual sharp demeanor melting into something almost paternal.

Zephyr observed the scene, his crimson eyes calculating. “We should retire to our rooms for the night,” he announced, his voice steady. “The day has been long, and we need rest.”

Elowen stepped forward, holding out her arms. “Here, give me Anastasia. I’ll put her to bed,” she offered, her tone firm but kind.

Lysander hesitated, tightening his hold on the little girl instinctively. His eyes flicked to Zephyr, seeking his guidance.

Zephyr’s expression hardened slightly, his tone carrying a subtle undercurrent of blame. “Elowen, do not worry. We will take care of her. She’s safe with us,” he said, his voice calm but unyielding. “Our beasts are still too unsettled after your...adventure.”

The subtle accusation in his words wasn’t lost on Elowen. Her lips tightened, but she chose not to argue. With a resigned nod, she stepped back. “Fine. But I expect to see her first thing in the morning,” she said, her voice laced with exhaustion. Without another word, she turned and retired to her room.

As her footsteps faded, the kings exchanged glances, each feeling the unspoken weight of the situation. Amias was the first to break the silence, her soft voice carrying a teasing edge. “So... who’s taking the first shift with Anastasia?”

Lysander adjusted the sleeping child in his arms, his expression torn between reluctance and resolve. “She’s already asleep. I can keep her for now.”

Zephyr smirked faintly but didn’t argue. “You can keep her for the night. But don’t get too comfortable—we’ll rotate. She’s our responsibility, and none of us will shirk it.”

The group dispersed shortly after, each retreating to their respective rooms. Lysander carried Anastasia with a surprising gentleness, her tiny snores easing the tension in his chest. Placing her down on his bed, he adjusted the blankets around her and sat at the edge, watching over her as the palace settled into silence.

For the first time in days, a fragile peace hung in the air. But even as they rested, each of the kings knew this was only the calm before the storm. Whatever darkness lurked beyond the palace walls would not stay hidden for long, and they would need all their strength to protect the small, fragile girl who had already captured their hearts.

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