When will he come?

It had been days.

She could feel it, the absence of him.

She felt the absence of everything that broke the monotony of two centuries of nothing. The cave had been her world for two hundred years. Stone and silence and the distant sound of forest creatures that never came close enough to matter.

And then he started coming.

Talking to her like she could hear him. Like it mattered whether she heard him or not.

She had tasted his blood. Just a few drops that reached the stone before he wrapped his hand. It had taken everything she had not to react visibly.

I did not move. But something inside me did.

Not thoughts.

Just... awareness.

Of him.

Two hundred years and she had forgotten what warmth tasted like.

If I wasn’t sealed here.

The thought went where it always went and she stopped it there.

He didn’t know about her. That much was clear. He talked to the cave the way people talked to themselves not expecting an answer, just needing somewhere to put the words.

But he kept coming back.

How did he even find this place, she thought. The path doesn’t exist in daylight. I made sure of it.

She had built that into the seal herself, two centuries ago, when she still had the strength to shape the environment around her. A last measure.

The daemons who had trapped her hadn’t been able to find the cave entrance either; they had simply sealed the whole region and waited.

They were still waiting.

She was still here.

Two hundred years, she thought. Alone.

And then a boy started dropping by. Talking while looking in the air.

It was the most entertainment she’d had since the seal went up.

When he comes back I’m going to be furious with him, she decided. He deserves it for making me wait.

...

What if that makes him angry?

What if he doesn’t come back.

The thought was small and she hated it immediately.

No. He’ll come back. He always comes back.

She shifted against the stone. The seal held. It always held.

I’m so thirsty.

She closed her eyes and listened to the forest, the birds not singing, the absolute silence of every living thing that had learned not to come near.

Come back soon, she thought, to no one.

Or I really will be angry.

***

(Kael POV)

I left my room without a clear plan.

Just... Oh today was Aria’s birthday. That sat somewhere in the back of my head and wouldn’t leave. The banquet was tonight.

I found her near the garden entrance, standing with a cup of something warm, looking at the mountain line.

What she is looking at? Is she deep in thought.

She heard me coming. Didn’t turn immediately.

"Brother."

"Happy birthday," I said.

She turned. Looked at me with those careful eyes that catalogued everything before allowing any of it to show.

"You came to find me specifically."

"I did."

"Why."

"Because it’s your birthday and I haven’t said it yet."

She was quiet for a moment.

"What do you want," she said.

"Nothing."

"People don’t seek me out to wish me well without wanting something."

"I’m your brother."

"You’re my brother who fought me in a duel. 𝐟𝕣𝗲𝕖𝕨𝗲𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝗲𝚕.𝗰𝚘𝐦

"And won," I said. "Which is relevant."

Something moved at the corner of her mouth.

"What do you want," she said again, but the edge on it was slightly different this time.

"A gift," I said. "Since you’re asking."

She looked at me.

"I want a gift," I repeated. "From you. For your birthday."

"That’s not how birthdays work."

"I’m the heir. I’m redefining how things work."

She stared at me for a long moment.

"Fine," she said, very carefully. "What gift."

I looked at her.

"I want you to trust me," I said. "Just enough. Not completely I haven’t earned that yet. But enough to give me time to earn it."

Aria’s expression didn’t change. "That’s not a small thing to ask for."

"I know."

"After everything..."

"I know."

She looked away. Back at the mountains.

"And what do I get in return," she said.

"I’ll make you Duchess," I said.

Silence.

It lasted a moment too long.

Aria blinked once.

"...What?"

Her voice came out sharper than she probably intended.

I watched her carefully. That wasn’t disbelief. More like her mind had accepted the words but refused to connect them to reality.

"Not the heir," I continued. "Not the spare. A Duchess. Your own title, your own land, your own authority."

Her grip on the cup tightened slightly.

"That’s not..." She stopped mid-sentence, exhaled once, then started again. "You can’t just say that."

"I already did."

"Do you know what duchess means?"

"I know."

I raised my hand. Draw a line of mana across my palm visible, deliberate.

"I swear it on my mana heart," I said. "Aria Ardyn will hold a Duchess title before my tenure as heir is done. That’s my gift to you. For your birthday."

An oath on a mana heart wasn’t ceremonial. It wasn’t tradition or formality. A mana heart oath, if it was broken... corrupted the core, damaged cultivation, left marks that didn’t fade. No one made them lightly.

Aria stared at the line of mana across my palm.

Then at my face.

Then back at the mana.

"...Why would you do that?" she asked, quieter now.

"Because it’s correct."

The mana faded. That made her pause again.

The garden felt heavier afterward.

Aria looked at me for a long time.

"I haven’t decided whether I trust you yet," she said finally.

"I know."

"...This changes nothing immediately."

"I know."

.....

"Happy birthday," I said again.

She looked away.

But she didn’t leave.

***

I studied my reflection.

Everything was in place. Expression. posture. control.

Except for the heat I could not fully explain.

A duchess. Equal standing.

A promise made on a mana heart.

Reckless. Or calculated. I could not yet tell which one disturbed me more.

I raised my hand slightly, watching my own fingers in the mirror.

"I haven’t decided whether I trust you yet," I had said.

That was still true.

But now it felt less like a judgment. And more like a delay.

I turned away from the mirror.

The feeling did not leave with it.