The soft knock on Mira’s door startled her from her thoughts. She had been tending to Kaelan, ensuring he rested and took his medications, when one of the maids appeared, clutching a sealed letter.
“This just arrived, miss,” the maid said, her voice quiet.
Mira took the envelope, her heart skipping a beat as she recognized the crest of her family’s pack. The faint scent of wax and pine clung to it—a reminder of home. She broke the seal and unfolded the parchment, her eyes scanning the words quickly.
Mira,
Your father is gravely ill. He has requested your presence immediately. Time is short. Please come.
The letter was unsigned, but the handwriting was unmistakably her father’s steward’s. Mira’s breath caught, and her chest tightened. Despite the complicated relationship she had with her father, the thought of his illness stirred a mix of emotions—concern, guilt, and a sense of duty she couldn’t shake.
Kaelan noticed the shift in her demeanor and sat up slightly. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice still raspy from his recent ordeal.
“It’s my father,” Mira replied, folding the letter. “He’s ill. They’ve asked me to come home.”
Kaelan’s brow furrowed. “I’ve seen him a few days ago, he seemed to be healthy. Do you want me to come with you?”
Mira shook her head. “You’re still recovering. Besides, this is something I need to handle on my own.”
Reluctantly, Kaelan nodded. “Be careful. If anything feels off, promise me you’ll come back immediately.”
“I will,” Mira assured him, though a sense of unease settled over her as she packed a small bag.
***
The journey to her family’s pack was uneventful, but Mira’s nerves grew with every passing mile. Memories of her childhood resurfaced—both the fleeting moments of warmth and the overwhelming sense of inadequacy she had always felt in her father’s shadow.
When she arrived, the estate was as she remembered: grand and imposing, with stone walls that seemed to stretch toward the sky. The steward met her at the entrance, his expression unreadable.
“Miss Mira,” he said with a bow. “Your father is waiting for you in his chambers.”
Mira nodded, her steps hesitant as she made her way through the familiar hallways. She found her father sitting upright in bed, a faint flush to his cheeks. He looked anything but gravely ill, and the sight made her pause.
“Father,” she greeted, confusion evident in her voice.
“Mira,” he said warmly, gesturing for her to sit beside him. “It’s good to see you.”
“I thought you were unwell,” Mira said cautiously, studying him.
“I was,” he replied smoothly, his tone nonchalant. “But seeing you here has already lifted my spirits.”
Mira frowned but sat down. “Why did you call me here, Father?”
He leaned forward slightly, his gaze sharp. “Because there are things we need to discuss—things I’ve avoided for far too long.”
Before she could respond, the door opened slightly, and Liana peeked in. “Oh, Mira,” she said with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “It’s so good to see you again.”
Mira’s discomfort grew as her father dismissed Liana with a wave of his hand. “Later, Liana,” he said. “I need to speak with your sister privately.”
Liana’s expression soured briefly before she nodded and left, the door clicking shut behind her.
“What is this about?” Mira asked, her unease deepening.
Her father’s expression darkened. “It’s about Kaelan. And you.”
***