Chapter 255: Go back to Arven and solve the new problems.

The morning was cold and clear when Damon finally finished adjusting the last leather straps of his backpack and crossed the front courtyard of the mansion. The place still bore the marks of recent destruction, although much of the damage was slowly being reversed.

Some walls had been rebuilt, columns reinforced, and the garden was beginning to regain its shape, even though piles of stone and broken wood remained heaped in corners of the grounds.

The carriage that would take him to Arven awaited near the main gate, two black horses stamping their hooves against the stone ground with restrained impatience while the coachman held the reins firmly in his hands.

The morning air had that particular silence that precedes farewells, a strange pause in the normal flow of life.

Elizabeth, Aria, and Esther were gathered a few steps ahead, waiting for him near the carriage.

None of them seemed particularly comfortable with the situation, although each expressed it differently.

Elizabeth maintained her usual upright and controlled posture, her arms crossed as she watched Damon approach with a look that mixed pride and concern.

Aria leaned slightly against the side of the carriage, her hair carelessly tied back, her eyes following his every step with a silent intensity.

Esther, for her part, remained a little closer to the gate, her arms loose at her sides, the light morning breeze moving strands of her hair as she watched Damon with a calmness that seemed carefully constructed.

Damon stopped before the three women, his gaze passing over each of them before speaking. There was something lighter in his expression than in previous days, but the seriousness of the journey was still present in his posture.

“I’ll be back soon,” he said, his voice firm, though calm. “As soon as I settle things with Morgana’s stepmother and understand what’s really happening in that duchy, I’ll return home.”

Elizabeth was the first to react.

She let out a small sigh through her nose, as if fighting the urge to give him a long list of additional instructions, but ultimately abandoned the idea.

Instead, she took a step closer, cupped his face in one hand, and observed him for a few seconds as if assessing something invisible to others.

“I wanted to go with you,” she finally said, with a rare honesty in her tone. “But someone needs to keep this whole house standing while you sort out political problems in Arven.”

Damon smiled slightly at the comment, tilting his head almost resignedly. “If you came, half the duchy would probably go to war just hearing your name.”

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow, but a small smile appeared at the corner of her lips despite her attempt to maintain seriousness. She then leaned down and kissed his forehead briefly, a simple gesture, but one laden with an affection she rarely displayed so clearly.

“Then sort this out quickly,” she added in a lower tone. “And don’t destroy another city in the process.”

Esther was the next to approach. She didn’t seem nervous or anxious, but there was something restrained in her eyes, a mixture of concern and confidence carefully balanced. She stopped right in front of him, her arms crossed for a moment before relaxing again.

“Elizabeth is right,” she said, looking directly at him. “We’re going to stay here rebuilding everything. So you have no excuse to delay.”

Damon tilted his head slightly toward her, observing her with an attention that lasted a few seconds longer than necessary. “Are you going to wait for me?”

Esther answered without hesitation. “We will.”

The word came out simple, direct, without dramatization, but it carried a quiet certainty that made Damon breathe a little deeper.

He brought one hand to her face, holding her chin for a moment before gently pulling her into a short, firm kiss, lacking the intensity of their recent fights or reconciliations, but something more stable, almost promising.

When they parted, Ester held his gaze for another moment before taking a small step back, allowing Aria to approach.

Aria didn’t seem particularly interested in hiding her feelings. She uncrossed her arms and walked toward him with calm steps, but her eyes carried that characteristic mixture of teasing and affection that had always existed between them.

“I still think you should have brought someone with you,” she commented, tilting her head as she watched him. “But I imagine you prefer to do everything alone.”

Damon let out a small, low laugh. “I’ll just watch.”

“You?” Aria replied, her tone incredulous, making Ester snort discreetly in the background. “Watching?”

He raised his hands in an almost innocent gesture. “It’s the plan.”

Aria narrowed her eyes for a second, as if deciding whether or not to believe it, but ended up shaking her head with a sigh. “I’m going to miss you,” she finally said, and this time there was no provocation in the sentence.

Damon didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he took a step closer and cupped her face in his hands, pulling her into a kiss that started softly but carried a warm familiarity built over many years. Aria responded without hesitation, her fingers gripping the collar of his shirt for a moment before slowly releasing it when the kiss ended.

“Don’t cause trouble,” she murmured against his lips.

“I’ll try.” There was a brief silence after that, the kind of pause that happens when everyone knows the moment of departure has arrived. The coachman shifted slightly in his carriage seat, a silent reminder that time continued to pass.

Damon took a deep breath, casting one last glance at the three women before finally turning toward the carriage. He climbed the small wooden steps and entered slowly, settling his backpack beside the seat while the coachman adjusted the reins.

When he looked again through the open window, he saw Elizabeth with her arms crossed, observing the scene with a firm expression, Esther standing a little behind her with a tranquil look, and Aria still near the carriage, her fingers distractedly touching the wooden side.

The coachman clicked his tongue and the horses began to move, first slowly, then more steadily as the carriage passed through the main gate of the mansion.

The sound of the wheels on the stone road echoed through the courtyard as the distance between Damon and the house increased with each passing second.

He remained looking back for a few moments, observing the three figures that slowly grew smaller in the clear morning light, until they finally disappeared beyond the trees surrounding the property.

…[In Arven]

Morgana’s office was bathed in a soft late afternoon light, filtered through the tall windows overlooking the palace’s inner gardens.

The heavy curtains were partially open, allowing the golden glow to filter through and illuminate the shelves filled with carefully arranged books, maps, and documents.

Still, there was a silent tension hanging in the air, a sense of constant vigilance that seemed to have settled there in recent days. Morgana sat behind her wide, dark wood desk, her elbow resting near a stack of already read letters, her fingers lightly pressing against her temple.

Her gaze was fixed on an open map before her, but her mind was clearly elsewhere, revisiting every detail of the political movements she had been observing with growing unease.

The office door creaked open softly, breaking the heavy silence that filled the room. Morgana looked up immediately, her concentrated expression softening slightly as she recognized the figure entering. Ingrivid crossed the threshold with firm, confident steps, carrying a small stack of neatly arranged papers in her hands.

Her expression was serious, more so than usual, and that alone spoke volumes before any words were spoken. She walked to the desk without hesitation and carefully placed the documents before Morgana, aligning them precisely before finally looking up.

“This is the report,” Ingrivid said, her voice calm, yet laden with a gravity she made no attempt to conceal.

Morgana pulled the papers closer, quickly glancing over the first few lines as her expression grew increasingly closed.

The document was filled with detailed observations about recent meetings between members of the court, suspicious financial transactions, and unexpected changes in the composition of the palace guard.

Each page seemed to add more weight to what she already suspected. She let out a slow breath before looking up at Ingrivid again, waiting for the other woman to continue.

Ingrivid rested her hands on the edge of the table, leaning slightly forward as she spoke.

“Her movements have become more aggressive in recent days,” she explained, clearly referring to Morgana’s stepmother without needing to mention her name.

“She has been meeting with several noble families who previously kept their distance from internal politics. Some of these meetings have taken place discreetly within the palace itself.”

Morgana flipped through another page of the report, her fingers moving slowly across the paper as she absorbed every detail. “She’s gathering support,” she murmured, more to herself than as a question.

“Yes,” Ingrivid confirmed. “And not just symbolic support. There are promises being made, positions being offered, and, in some cases, old favors being called upon.”

The silence that followed was dense, filled only by the faint sound of paper being turned as Morgana continued examining the documents. The report also mentioned changes in the distribution of local troops, small changes that individually wouldn’t raise suspicion, but which together formed a worrying pattern.

“She’s trying to build a base before acting openly,” Morgana said finally, partially closing the report.

Ingrivid nodded slowly. “Exactly.”

She straightened her posture and crossed her arms over her chest, her gaze fixed on Morgana as she added the most delicate part of the situation. “But that’s not the only problem.”

Morgana looked up again, already anticipating what was to come.

“Your father,” Ingrivid continued, choosing her words carefully, “has been acting… differently.”

Morgana didn’t answer immediately, but the slight stiffening of her shoulders was enough to show that this was nothing new to her.

“Explain,” she asked, her voice low.

Ingrivid picked up another sheet of the report and pushed it lightly across the table. “In the last four days he has cancelled three important meetings with traditional advisors of the duchy. On two occasions, he delegated strategic decisions directly to his stepmother without any formal debate.”

Morgana frowned slightly as she read the notes. “That’s not typical of him.”

“No,” agreed Ingrivid. “Your father has always been extremely cautious with decisions involving the balance between noble families. He usually consults half the council before taking any position.”

She paused briefly before continuing. “But now he seems… distant.”

Morgana raised her gaze again, this time with a colder glint in her eyes.

“Distant how?” she asked.

Ingrivid reflected for a second before answering. “As if he were always tired. As if he were deliberately avoiding certain subjects. And there are times when he simply… agrees with what his stepmother suggests without arguing.”

Morgana leaned back slowly in her chair, her gaze lost for a few moments as the pieces began to fall into place in her mind. The golden afternoon light reflected softly on her dark hair, but the expression on her face was now much darker.

“He wouldn’t do it willingly,” she finally said.

Ingrivid tilted his head slightly. “I don’t believe he would either.”

Silence returned to the office, but now it carried a much greater weight. Morgana looked back at the report, slowly running her fingers along the edge of the paper as she thought.

“Do you think she’s only manipulating the nobles?” Morgana finally asked.

Ingrivid answered without hesitation. “No.”

The answer was simple, but it carried a heavy implication.

Morgana closed the report with a slow gesture, resting both hands on it as her eyes returned to Ingrivid.

“So she’s manipulating my father too.”

Ingrivid didn’t respond immediately, but the silence was answer enough.

Outside, beyond the office windows, the wind began to move the garden trees more forcefully, casting long shadows across the stone ground. Inside the room, the tension seemed to grow with each passing second.

Morgana took a deep breath and finally rose from her chair, walking slowly to the window while observing the palace outside. For a moment, she was completely silent, as if organizing her next steps in her mind.

Then she spoke again.

“He should already be on his way.”

Ingrivid didn’t need to ask who she was talking about.

Damon.

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