The Argos family arrived home exhausted.
Piers was fast asleep in Xylia's arms. Styx fought back yawns, rubbing her eyes with tiny fists. As Rigas set her down, she leaned heavily against his leg, barely awake.
Xylia carried Piers upstairs to his crib, gently brushing the hair from his forehead before slipping out quietly. Styx had followed them upstairs, stubbornly claiming she wasn't tired yet. But the moment she curled up at the foot of her parents' bed, she was already half-asleep.
When Xylia descended the stairs, she groaned and collapsed face-first onto the sofa in the living hall.
"Oh, darling," her muffled voice emerged from the cushions, "I am completely exhausted. Let's not set foot in another town until Piers turns five. Minimum."
Rigas stretched, joints popping. "Five, huh? That's a long time, love. But hey—if it means no more surprise face-kicking incidents, I might be on board." He grinned at the memory. "Besides, think about all the fun we had."
Xylia made a sound between a laugh and a groan.
He moved to the table, sorting through their supplies. "This quiet life suits us. Just us and the kids... You with your herbs, me with the woodpile. Peace. Mostly."
He picked up one of Piers' tunics and sniffed it, then winced. "Though I swear, this boy makes more laundry than a whole tavern. It's unnatural." The fabric smelled cold—like winter air and metal. Faint marks on the weave looked wrong, as if reality had briefly disagreed with it existing. "Definitely not natural."
Soft footsteps. Xylia's arms slipped around his waist, her cheek pressing against his back.
"Rigas," she said quietly. "If you hadn't noticed the Orbuculum..."
She couldn't finish.
He turned, hands framing her face. His grin faded to something gentler.
"I'm no clever man," he said softly. "Can't read fancy books or understand half of what that bishop said." He leaned his forehead against hers. "But I know how to protect what's mine. And I'll do whatever it takes—every damn time—to keep you and our kids safe."
Xylia's breath caught, a soft pink blush creeping across her cheeks. She looked up at him through half-lidded eyes, swimming with overwhelming affection. "You mean that."
"With everything I am," he murmured.
"Oh, darling," she whispered, leaning into his touch. "That is why I fell in love with you."
Their lips met in a slow, lingering kiss, pouring all their unspoken promises into the embrace.
When they finally separated, Xylia rested her forehead against his solid chest, listening to the steady, reassuring beat of his heart.
"He laughed today, she said quietly with a smile."
Rigas didn't answer right away. His hand moved to her hair, stroking it with a slow and steady rhythm.
"I know."
"In three years, I have never—" She stopped. Tried again, her throat tight. "I didn't know what his laugh sounded like."
Rigas exhaled, long and slow, holding her a little tighter in his arms.
"It was a small thing."
"It wasn't."
"No." A pause, thick with shared emotion. "It wasn't."
Gently, Rigas hooked a finger under her chin, lifting her face back to his. The air between them hummed with a quiet, profound love. Without another word, he leaned down and captured her lips once more, drawing her into another deep, tender kiss.
The fire crackled softly. Outside, wind moved through the trees.
Upstairs, Piers woke to hushed voices drifting from below.
"They're talking," she whispered, creeping toward the railing. "Wanna spy?"
Before he could respond, she dragged him toward the rasiling.
They crouched together, peering down through the wooden bars at their parents below.
[NULL SYSTEM: CURIOSITY DETECTED]
Now they watched from the top of the stairs as their parents kissed below.
Styx made a face at the sight.
"Eww, Why do grown-ups do that?"
Piers reached up and covered her eyes with one small hand.
Styx, predictably, spread her fingers into a "V," peeking through anyway.
"M'not looking," she lied.
Piers said nothing. Just kept his hand in place, staring down at his parents.
Watching them hold each other.
Watching Rigas promise to protect them.
Watching Xylia believe him absolutely.
Something small shifted in his chest. Faint acknowledgment that these people genuinely cared about him. Would die for him.
Even though he couldn't care back.
Not yet.
[NULL SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
[EMOTIONAL RESPONSE: GRATITUDE (FAINT)]
[VOID CORRUPTION: 43.5% → 43%]
[ATTACHMENTS INCREASED:]
RIGAS: 25% (+4%)
XYLIA: 24% (+4%)
STYX: 22% (+2%)
RINO: 31% (Stable)
Below, their parents separated. "Bed?" Rigas suggested quietly.
Piers grabbed Styx's hand and pulled her back. They slipped into their parents' bedroom—both went to bed—and listened.
Footsteps below. Voices murmuring.
"They're asleep up there," Xylia murmured.
"our daughter's room then?" Rigas' voice, amused.
"Mm-hmm."
Footsteps continued down the hall, then the sound of a door closing.
Styx peeked out from the blankets, confused.
"Where are they going?"
Piers pulled his blanket up. "Don't ask."
A beat of silence.
"Night, Piers," Styx whispered after a moment.
No response.
She grinned anyway and curled back up beside him, her small body warming the space between them.
Piers lay in the darkness, listening to the house settle around him. Styx's breathing slowly evened out as she drifted back to sleep.
The wind outside rattled the windows. The forest was alive with sound—branches creaking, something howling in the distance.
The barrier pulsed steadily.