Llandra retreated to the study with a Tele-Stone in hand.
The door closed.
For the next two hours, the rest of the house listened.
At first there was laughter.
Bright, unrestrained laughter that none of them had heard from her in months.
Then crying.
Then apologies.
Then overlapping voices.
At one point her tone rose sharply — and several in the living room instinctively stiffened before remembering:
She wasn't speaking to a king.
She was speaking to her father.
Stories poured through the door in fragments.
Adventures.
Dungeon clears.
Storm battles.
Trade networks.
Siblings.
Court gossip.
Home.
It was heartfelt.
Unfiltered.
When she finally emerged, her eyes were red.
But she was smiling.
Jax stood immediately.
"Was it a good call?"
She nodded softly.
"It was."
A breath.
"Very overdue."
Nyxian leaned forward, sharp as ever.
"You look happy."
A pause.
"But tense."
The room quieted.
Even the elves watched her closely now.
Llandra's eyes drifted to Jax.
There it was again — that steady anchor she always found in him.
With him, difficult truths felt survivable.
"My parents want to meet you," she said.
Jax blinked.
Then grinned.
"That's it? That's the stress? Great! About time. When?"
Her smile faltered slightly.
"Soon."
"How soon?"
She swallowed.
"They would prefer… immediately."
The room shifted.
"As in?" Nyxian pressed.
"As in," Llandra continued carefully, "they would like us to depart as early as tomorrow."
The elves straightened instinctively.
"You as well," she added, glancing toward Vaelrith and the others. "They are recalling the Veil."
Vaelrith nodded once.
"It will take approximately three months by conventional travel. We should depart at first light."
Jax shook his head calmly.
"No."
The room stilled.
"I'll need two weeks."
The skeptical elf set his glass down sharply.
"When the King of Etherevalis summons you, you do not negotiate timelines."
The air thickened.
Jax remained relaxed, leaning back in his chair.
"You're welcome to leave tomorrow," he said evenly. "We'll catch up."
A scoff.
"With a two-week head start?"
Vaelrith interjected quietly.
"This man commands shadow beasts that do not tire. If he wished, he could overtake us in days."
He looked at Jax — not challengingly.
Measured.
"I believe we can afford one to two weeks."
The skeptical elf went silent.
Something subtle had shifted.
Jax inclined his head.
"Ten to fourteen days," he said. "There are matters I must conclude before requesting an audience with a king."
Nyxian narrowed her eyes.
"What kind of matters take you two weeks?"
Jax took a slow sip of his drink.
"If I'm going to ask a king for his daughter's hand, I imagine I'll need an appropriate dowry."
He glanced sideways at Llandra.
"That is how your world.....I mean traditions work… correct?"
Vaelrith noticed the phrasing.
Your world.
Not ours.
Another confirmation.
Llandra studied Jax for a long moment.
Her expression softened — but there was weight behind it.
"That is exactly what is expected," she said quietly.
Then she added:
"And my parents don't only want to meet you."
Jax's smile faded slightly.
"They want us married there."
Silence.
Heavy.
They had been engaged for ten months.
Shared a home.
Shared wealth.
Shared a bed.
In every meaningful way, they already felt married.
But this—
This was different.
This was declaration.
Legitimacy.
History.
The first to react was Bunny.
Her eyes widened to impossible levels.
"Oh my goddess—"
She grabbed Llandra's hands.
"We're going to your wedding?!"
Nyxian inhaled sharply.
Zee covered her mouth.
Llandra blinked rapidly as the weight of it finally settled.
"Yes," she whispered.
Bunny squealed.
"I'm your Maid of Honor!"
"You're not automatically—" Nyxian began.
"Yes I am!"
"What about dresses?" Bunny asked excitedly.
"Are elven weddings outdoors?" Zee inquired.
"I'm planning the Bachelorette party!" Nyxian exclaimed.
Within seconds, the women had formed a huddle of escalating chaos. Including Dawn.
The men instinctively stepped away.
Jax remained seated.
Processing.
Across from him, one of the quieter elves raised his glass.
"Marrying a princess," he said.
Jax met his gaze.
He nodded.
The elf extended his drink forward.
"Congratulations."
Glass met glass.
Soft.
Real.
Across the room, Llandra laughed through tears as Bunny began planning color schemes out loud.
But beneath the excitement, something deeper stirred within each of the Vixens.
They all felt it.
A shift.
Llandra would be first.
But none of them intended to be last.
And Jax—
For the first time since arriving in this world—
Was about to stand before a throne not as a conqueror.
Not as a reformer.
But as a man asking for permission.