Father

The dim glow of the lantern flickered softly, casting shifting shadows against the polished walls of the Duke's private chambers. The night was silent, save for the distant crash of waves against the fleet's hull. The rhythmic sound should have been grounding—familiar—but tonight, it did little to settle his thoughts.

Thaddeus sat at his desk, fingers steepled, golden eyes focused on nothing in particular. His mind, however, was far from still.

Everything felt strange. Unfamiliar, despite the fact that the situation should have been a relief.

His daughter, Aeliana, was here.

Alive.

Safe.

But that was not what unsettled him.

It was the way she had returned.

Stronger than ever.

The physicians had confirmed it—her body was no longer frail. The sickness that had plagued her since childhood, the very thing that had dictated the course of her life, was gone.

And not only gone—it had been replaced with something greater.