[GRANT]
"Father…" Alanor breathed as he looked at Heide.
Everyone else was whispering about what they were seeing, and honestly, no one had exported this. The shock was on everyone's face.
And it was expected, seeing as this was a familiar face.
One that they had loved and adored for years on end.
A face that had lived right through centuries and made them feel safe as part of the king's inner circle.
A face whose goodbye was not needed. Never wanted.
A face that no one had wanted to see. Not like this.
Gods, never like this.
"I'm here, Mira," Zaire said, and Alanor had never felt that kind of relief before.
The anger and instability that had threatened to boil over instantly disappeared, and in its place was the Wynter Consort, whose husband was the king of Udrad.
"Fuck," Alanor breathed as he took a second look at what was here before them.
It was a body.
A warrior's body.
A familiar warrior's body.
