The Next Morning
The dining room wasn't grand—just a quiet chamber set aside for the family. Modest sunlight filtered in through embroidered curtains. The table was set simply, with warm bread, honeyed barley porridge, sliced fruit, and a silver pot of herbal tea still steaming.
Luciana sat at one end, Hades cradled in her arm, still blinking away the last of sleep. Nemesis was already in his seat, happily swinging his legs as he devoured a slice of peach.
Erebus stood in the doorway for a moment, uncertain. He had gone out into the training grounds to battle with the Amanécerian soldiers. Though unwelcomed, they did eagerly challenge the general of the united army.
Until Nemesis spotted him.
"Dade! Come sit!" he chirped, his mouth full.
Luciana glanced at Erebus, then gestured to the seat across from her. It was an invitation—not of affection, but of permission.
He stepped forward, careful not to make too much noise, as though the atmosphere might shatter at the slightest misstep. His injured arm was still wrapped more neatly now. The wounds apart from his arm were also had been tended to, in the night.
Erebus sat down.
The silence between the adults was thick, but Nemesis paid it no mind.
"I told Hades all about the guards and how I shouted at them," he said proudly. "And how you didn't even flinch, Mama! Like this—" He puffed out his chest. "You were all, 'Stop!' And they froze! Like statues!"
Luciana smiled faintly. "Is that how it looked?" she took a small spoon of barley porridge and drew it closer to Hades' mouth. The infant eagerly took it.
Erebus allowed himself a small chuckle. "He's already embellishing stories like you used to."
Their eyes met, briefly. A flicker of the past passed between them like a shared breath. She looked away first.
Nemesis had taken the moment to build a little tower with dried dates and slices of melon. He jabbed a spoon into the top like a flag.
"I'm going to train with brother Tiberius later," he announced. "He said I need to learn how to fall properly. But I already do fall properly. I fall all the time!"
Luciana laughed softly. Erebus's smile was more pained—he was seeing a childhood he'd missed unfolding before him, right in front of his eyes.
"He's spirited," Erebus said.
Luciana nodded. "He gets that from his father."
There was a beat of silence. Erebus looked down.
"I'll make it up to him," he said, his voice low.
"You'll have to," she replied. "He'll expect you at every training session now. He doesn't forget easily."
Nemesis spoke up, mouth still full. "You gotta stay, Dade. Mama's strong, but she cries when she thinks I'm asleep."
Luciana froze.
The words landed like a stone dropped into a still pond. Erebus's eyes darted to her.
"Nemesis," she said, gently but warningly.
The boy blinked. "What? It's true."
She looked down at Hades, wiping his mouth slightly where the pearls of porridge stuck on his cheek. She wouldn't cry. Not now. Not in front of Erebus. But the tension in her throat was real.
Erebus's hand rested on the table. He didn't reach for hers—he wouldn't presume—but his fingers slowly curled.
"Then I'll stay," he said quietly. "So she doesn't have to cry alone anymore."
Luciana said nothing. But Hades stirred in her arms, blinked his eyes, and let out a quiet coo. As if sensing the fragile shift in the air, he grabbed onto her dress and stared at Erebus curiously.
Nemesis grinned. "See? Even Hades agrees!"
Luciana exhaled, slowly. Her eyes met Erebus's again.
This time, she didn't look away.
Later that day Erebus left to attend council with Helios about the matter related to subjugation mission.
Lu Yin was already down in the city where the rest of Erebus' army was resting and merrymaking at night celebrating victory and telling tales of their bravery in war.
Much to their surprise the Amanécerian soldiers who fought alongside them were more welcoming of their presence and shared their part of stories.
Meanwhile Luciana was still hung up with matter between her and Erebus. She had went to visit Helios with Aria and Melody. They had shared grief of Avlynn's death together.
Helios didn't speak to anyone except her for two days. She was already too worried about his health and the missing leg.
The children were napping. Afternoon sun painted the chamber in soft gold.
Luciana sat near the open window in her private parlor, her fingers curled around a cup of rose and juniper tea. She hadn't taken a sip.
Leila sat with her nearby, pouring tea for herself. Augusta entered quietly, having dismissed the last of the staff. The silence between the three women was companionable but taut with unspoken thoughts.
"His lordship looked more tired," Leila murmured, breaking the quiet.
Luciana's brow furrowed slightly. "He did."
"And haunted," Augusta added as she poured herself a small cup. "Like a man who's stared too long into the abyss."
Luciana didn't answer. Her eyes stayed on the distant sky.
"He still loves you," Leila said, gently but firmly. "And the children."
Luciana set her cup down. "Love isn't always a gift, Leila. Sometimes it's a weight."
Augusta sat opposite her, a wise weariness in her gaze. "But it's a weight you've carried anyway. All these years."
"I had to," Luciana whispered. "For Nemesis. For Hades. I couldn't afford to break."
"But now that he's here," Leila asked carefully, "do you want to try again?"
Luciana closed her eyes for a long moment. "I don't know."
"You don't trust him," Augusta said.
"I can't," Luciana said sharply, her composure cracking. "Not yet. Maybe not ever. But part of me wants to. That's the problem."
She stood, wrapping her arms around herself.
"I'm not the girl who was taken by him and remained at his mercy. And he's not the man I once feared.But at the same time he is. We're two survivors with too many ghosts between us. I...just don't understand what's what anymore." she sighed.
Leila stepped forward. "But the children don't see ghosts. They see a family."
Luciana's expression softened, remembering Hades smiling at his father. Nemesis beaming at the breakfast table.
"Yes," she murmured. "And I don't want to be the reason it crumbles again."