11

Chapter Eleven

After falling to the ground in a humiliating defeat, while everyone laughed, I heard a distinct sound echoing through the wing—a soft metallic rattle, followed by light taps on the marble floor.

"Oh, no…" Elias muttered, his face showing something like preemptive exhaustion.

I turned cautiously and found a small group of servants approaching us, carrying an elegant wooden box engraved with golden symbols. One of them opened the lid with a slow, theatrical motion, revealing two polished rifles adorned with royal decorative engravings.

"What is this?!" I asked in astonishment, staring at the weapons that looked like they had come straight out of a luxurious history museum.

Sylvester, who was still standing like a little soldier, placed his hands on his hips and said proudly, "It's the beginning of the rifle era, Auntie."

Oh dear God, this child talks like a military commander.

Elias exhaled slowly, as if he had known this day was coming. "Yes, they've decided they're old enough now to learn the art of marksmanship."

"Marksmanship?!" I looked at Sylvester and Silter—one excited, the other hesitant—and said, "But you two are just little kids! Shouldn't you be playing with dolls?"

Sylvester raised an eyebrow as if deeply offended. "We don't play with dolls, Auntie. We train to be strong heirs."

"Right, of course… strong heirs…" I muttered, still trying to process what was happening.

But before I could protest any further, Sylvester picked up one of the rifles, holding it with an incredible steadiness for a seven-year-old. Silter, on the other hand, held his weapon as if it were a fragile glass doll, his expression uncertain.

Inas, who had been silently observing, stepped forward and said in a quiet yet firm tone, "My little one, are you sure this is a good idea?"

Sylvester didn't even blink. "Yes, Miss Inas, we've already trained with our father, and we're ready."

Then, with absolute confidence, he aimed the rifle at a wooden target across the room and pulled the trigger.

Click!

The sound of the shot wasn't real—the rifle was just for training.

Even so, I jumped slightly in place, while Sylvester remained perfectly calm as if nothing had happened.

Elias, who was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, smirked and said sarcastically, "Did you really think I'd let two kids play around with loaded weapons?"

I exhaled in relief, but I wasn't ready to let go of my shock just yet. "What's next? Are they training with hand grenades next week?!"

Sylvester, still holding his rifle with unwavering confidence, said innocently, "Actually, we have a small artillery training session in two weeks."

I nearly had a heart attack—until I noticed the mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Are you joking right now?!"

"Maybe." He gave a side-smirk, clearly enjoying tormenting me a little. "But don't worry, Auntie, we won't fire anything at you… intentionally."

I stared at him in shock, while Silter, still holding his rifle like it weighed more than he did, took a step back and said shyly, "I don't want to shoot Aunt Arwa… she's

"Oh, this child is an angel!" I jumped toward him and hugged him tightly, while he squirmed, embarrassed by all the attention.

"Alright, alright!" Elias interrupted, pushing himself away from the wall and stepping toward us. "That's enough military training for today. Sylvester, Silter, return the weapons to their place."

Sylvester rolled his eyes slightly but obeyed, while Silter placed the rifle down as if it were a fragile glass piece, afraid it might shatter in his hands.

Finally, everything seemed to return to normal—or at least, that's what I thought… until I heard hurried knocks on the door, followed by a breathless servant's voice:

"Sir Elias! An urgent message has arrived from the family council!"

The air in the room grew heavier in an instant. Elias, who was always calm and composed, straightened his posture and slowly turned toward the servant.

"An urgent message?"

The servant bowed and handed him a sealed envelope with royal wax, his face filled with visible tension.

Elias took the letter, broke the seal slowly, his eyes fixed on the words inside.

Then, suddenly, his expression darkened, and the temperature in the room seemed to drop as if a silent storm had just swept through.

"What is it?" I asked cautiously, my heart pounding.

He lifted his head to look at me, his cold eyes reflecting something I had never seen in him before.

"They've begun."

"Who?"

He glanced at the children for a moment before returning his gaze to me.

"The Blood Princes. They've declared war."

…

As Elias's words seeped into the room like droplets of water in the silent night, it felt as if the atmosphere had shifted instantly. No war, no threats—just another moment in this family reality I lived in. Elias, who had just seemed like a cautious commander, closed his eyes briefly and tossed the letter onto the table slowly.

"But there's something else," he suddenly said, then smirked as he turned to me. "Your father, Osman Valeska, has decided that today should be an occasion for us to gather. A banquet in honor of our arrival."

A brief silence filled the room before Sylvester whispered excitedly, "A banquet?! That means delicious food?!"

Silter, who had been sitting quietly moments ago, lit up with a wide smile. "Food?! Can I ask for fruit pudding?"

I chuckled softly, turning to them. "I think there will be plenty of dishes waiting for you, little ones."

But before they could respond, Inas, who had been observing everything in silence, interjected, "The food will be wonderful. But I don't think Lady Arwa will be able to join the banquet."

A sudden silence fell over the room. Everyone turned to me, their eyes filled with concern. It seemed the matter had become bigger than just a simple banquet.

Arwa, who was still weak from her long illness, had fallen into a sudden coma a few days ago. I hadn't expected to find myself in this situation again, but everyone stood there in quiet support, trying to ease my worries.

Inas stepped closer to my bedside and said cautiously, "She has suffered a lot, but Dr. Kyle Strathmore, the young physician who recently arrived in the village, has provided the necessary treatment. Thankfully, she's starting to recover."

I smiled gently and closed my eyes, trying to recall the moments of my coma. I suddenly felt as if I had been somewhere else, but I couldn't quite place it.

Then, the young doctor, Kyle Strathmore, entered. He was a man in his early thirties, his eyes filled with wisdom and calmness. When he saw me finally opening my eyes, he gave me a reassuring smile.

"Welcome back to the real world, Arwa," he said, sitting beside my bed and examining me carefully. "You were quite ill, but you're safe now. You should rest a little before returning to your daily life."

But before I could respond, I looked around and noticed something strange. My entire family was in the room, along with their children, surrounding me as if I were an inseparable part of their world. This wasn't just a banquet; it was a magical moment, where family, love, and laughter intertwined in every corner.

Elias, who had returned to his usual composed self after all the chaos, smiled and said, "It seems the family should celebrate Arwa's return to life before we start thinking about the banquet. What do you say, little ones?"

Sylvester grinned and answered quickly, "Yes! Aunt Arwa is back! Let's celebrate!"

Silter, still trying to grasp everything, looked around and asked, "But… does that mean I can have my fruit pudding now?"

Laughter filled the room, and for the first time in a while, I felt at ease. The children's laughter was light and pure, bringing a sense of comfort. As everyone began preparing for the banquet, I had a feeling that this would turn into one of the most amusing moments in our family's history.

The banquet was ready in the grand dining hall, where the tables were crowded with so many dazzling dishes that one could hardly count them. There was roasted meat with special spices, trays of rich soup, desserts covered in chocolate and nuts, as well as freshly arranged fruit platters. In the corner of the room, there was a table filled with sweets that Sylvester and Silter had practically claimed for themselves.

In the middle of the banquet, everyone burst into laughter when Sylvester accidentally spilled sauce all over his face, making him look as if he had just fought a battle on his plate.

"I'll tell you, Sylvester, this is the secret of a banquet: never take food too seriously," Inas said as she tried to wipe his face.

Laughter spread across the room, including from Elias, who, at that moment, looked more relaxed than I had seen him since their arrival. There was no talk of wars or crises; everything had returned to the simple joys of life, where children laughed, and everyone gathered together in moments of pure happiness.

At the end of the banquet, while the family was thoroughly enjoying themselves, I stepped aside to a quiet corner where I could take in the beautiful scene from a distance. Nothing was missing—everything was exactly where it should be. And at the heart of it all was this feeling that I wasn't lost, but rather finding my way back to myself among the people who meant more to me than anything else.