Chapter 378: Chapter 378: Coffee

“Elyra!”

Elyra’s lips curled into a grin, genuine and bright, as she strode forward.

“Seraphina!”

The two clasped hands, their laughter cutting through the hum of the academy courtyard. For a moment, the formality of noble blood and royal protocol vanished—just two friends, reunited after too long.

Seraphina’s fiery hair shimmered under the sun as she stepped closer, her crimson cloak catching the breeze. “You look alive as ever,” she teased. “I was starting to think the Estermont heir had vanished into her family’s mountain fortress.”

Elyra smirked. “Please. You know I don’t sit still that long. I just got back from home.”

Seraphina’s gaze softened slightly. “How’s your mother?”

“She’s fine now,” Elyra said with quiet pride. “Completely recovered.”

“That’s good,” Seraphina replied, relief slipping through her tone. Then, with her usual regal playfulness, she nudged Elyra’s shoulder. “Come on. We should talk somewhere better than in front of these walls.”

Elyra’s eyes flicked toward the academy gates. Beyond the stone walls and the armored guards, Valon buzzed with life—streets crowded with vendors, carriages, and cafés lined with stained-glass windows. “You’re the princess,” she said, tilting her head. “You sure you want to walk around without a guard?”

Seraphina smiled. “I brought one,” she said, tapping her chest. “Me.”

Elyra laughed under her breath. “Still reckless as ever.”

The two passed through the gate without trouble—the guards bowing quickly when they recognized Seraphina’s insignia. The city opened before them: wide marble streets, the air carrying the aroma of roasted coffee and baked bread.

“There’s a café near the river,” Elyra said. “Quiet, private. I’ll pay for it to close if we have to.”

Seraphina’s eyes gleamed with mischief. “Oh? Planning to buy the whole place just to talk to me? I feel flattered.”

“Not for you,” Elyra said, smirking. “For what we’re going to talk about.”

And with that, the two women disappeared into the flow of Valon’s streets, their cloaks trailing behind them as the academy walls faded into the distance.

The café sat near the curve of Valon’s inner river, a quiet corner tucked between white-stone arches and ivy-covered walls. Through its tall windows, sunlight spilled over polished tables and the faint smell of roasted beans filled the air.

Elyra had already spoken to the owner, slipping him a small velvet pouch before they entered. A few words later, the sign at the door flipped to Closed.

Now, only the two of them remained.

Seraphina leaned back in her seat, legs crossed with effortless poise, while Elyra poured coffee into both cups. The golden light flickered against the surface of the liquid, warm and calm—unlike the conversation about to begin.

Elyra took the first sip, eyes narrowing slightly. “How’s Nicolas?”

Seraphina exhaled softly, gaze dropping to her cup. “He’s… well, as fine as he can be. Older. Slower. You know he doesn’t have his core anymore.”

Elyra paused mid-motion, the spoon hovering above her drink. “Yes… But it doesn’t feel real, someone that strong now is just an old man. He can’t use magic at all?”

Seraphina shook her head. “Not a spark. No mana flow, no channeling. He’s… just Nicolas now. No longer the man who held the front lines for the Empire. But he doesn’t seem bitter about it.”

Elyra frowned faintly. “Then where is he?”

“At the castle,” Seraphina said, voice softening. “Father insisted he stay there. Nicolas is like family to him—more than family, honestly. When he lost his core, Father took it harder than anyone. He’s always seen him as a brother, not just an ally.”

Elyra leaned back, fingers drumming lightly against the cup. ’The man who once carried half the continent on his back… sitting quietly in a palace room. The world’s changed faster than anyone realizes.’

Seraphina looked up again, faintly smiling. “Daemar’s taken over now. Nicolas made it official before he left the academy.”

Elyra nodded, stirring her coffee slowly. “It was the only logical choice. Everyone knew Daemar would be next eventually.”

Seraphina exhaled through her nose, a ghost of a laugh. “He’s holding up better than I expected. Though I doubt anyone can fill Nicolas’s shoes.”

Elyra’s lips curved faintly. “No one could. The man carried half the Empire on his back for years. Even after losing his core, he still looks like someone who could command an army with a glance.”

Seraphina chuckled, the sound soft but fond. “He still scolds the knights at the castle like he’s their superior. Father just lets him. Says it reminds him of the old days.”

Elyra smiled into her cup, though her eyes were thoughtful. “It suits him. Nicolas was never meant to fade quietly.”

The café had grown quieter as the afternoon sun dipped lower, its light spilling across the polished counter and catching the faint shimmer of steam rising from their cups.

Seraphina leaned back, swirling what remained of her drink. “So,” she began, voice carrying that half-curious, half-amused lilt she always used when talking politics, “how did the Tharvaldur deal turn out? I heard you made quite the impression on the dwarves.”

Elyra smirked, tapping her spoon against the rim of her cup. “Better than expected, actually. They agreed to import Estermont steel and mana gems directly. Apparently, word spread fast after that little mess with the tournament.”

Seraphina raised a brow. “Ah, so your famous diplomacy worked again?”

“Something like that,” Elyra said, her grin widening. “Though I’d say it went exactly as you predicted. You told me the dwarves value reliability over price—and you were right. They signed within a week.”

Seraphina laughed softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Of course they did. I told you—once they trust you, they stay loyal. They’re not like the merchants in Valon.”

Elyra crossed one leg over the other, resting her chin on her hand. “Speaking of loyalty…” Her eyes gleamed mischievously. “You remember your promise, don’t you? When you take the throne, Estermont trade routes get priority.”

Seraphina rolled her eyes but smiled. “You really don’t forget anything, do you?”

Elyra grinned. “Not when it comes to business—or promises from future queens.”

Seraphina chuckled, shaking her head. “Fine. I’ll honor it. When the time comes, Valor will stand with Estermont. That’s a royal guarantee.”

Elyra raised her cup in mock salute. “Then here’s to the future Queen of Valor—and her impeccable taste in allies.”

Their cups clinked softly.

The laughter between them slowly faded, replaced by a more thoughtful silence. The sun had already begun to sink behind Valon’s tall towers, painting the sky in streaks of amber and violet. The café’s lights flickered on one by one, soft and warm.

Elyra traced the rim of her cup absently, her gray eyes distant.

Seraphina noticed immediately. “You’ve gone quiet,” she said softly. “Something on your mind?”

Elyra hesitated for a moment, then sighed. “It’s Noel.”

Seraphina tilted her head. “What about him?”

“I don’t know,” Elyra admitted, fingers tightening around her cup. “It’s just… this feeling. Like something’s wrong. I woke up yesterday with this weight in my chest, and it hasn’t gone away since.”

Seraphina leaned back, studying her friend. She knew that look—the way Elyra’s composure cracked only when her intuition screamed at her. “Your instincts again.”

Elyra gave a faint, humorless laugh. “Yeah. The same instincts that warned me about everything. They’ve never been wrong, Seraphina. Not once.”

Seraphina’s expression softened, the teasing gone now. “Then trust them. You’ve always had that sense—something beyond logic. If you feel he’s in trouble, maybe he is.”

Elyra looked toward the window, the city lights reflecting in her eyes. “That’s what scares me,” she murmured. “If I’m right… then he’s already facing something alone.”

For a while, neither spoke. The faint hum of the city drifted through the glass—distant carriages, laughter, and the steady rhythm of a world that kept turning, unaware.

Seraphina reached across the table, resting her hand briefly over Elyra’s. “He’s strong. But you’re stronger. When the time comes, you’ll know what to do.”

Elyra met her gaze, the corner of her lips lifting slightly. “I hope so.”

Outside, the wind carried the sound of bells from the upper district. Elyra’s eyes lingered on the fading sky, her heart whispering the same quiet prayer.

’Hold on, Noel. Just a little longer.’

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