[Eshkaran Empire — Imperial City — House Veyrath — Later]
The gates of House Veyrath stood beneath the afternoon sun, their immense bronze doors bearing the ancient crest of the Veyrath bloodline. Beyond them stretched a broad stone courtyard surrounded by towering sandstone walls, carved pillars, and gardens arranged with the precise elegance expected of one of the most powerful noble houses in the Eshkaran Empire.
The household stood in perfect formation.
Knights lined both sides of the stone path, their armor polished until it gleamed beneath the sunlight. Servants and maids stood behind them in neat rows, their hands folded respectfully before them.
At the very front stood the household butler, Renn, a short, dignified man whose expression remained as composed as the carved statues guarding the entrance.
Nobody raised their head until their Azram (Grand Duke) permitted them to do so.
The distant sound of approaching wheels echoed through the courtyard.
CLOP. CLOP. CLOP.
The knights straightened, the servants lowered their gazes, and the magnificent carriage bearing the crest of House Veyrath rolled through the gates and along the stone path before finally coming to a stop.
The moment it stopped, every person in the courtyard bowed.
"Welcome back, Azram."
Their voices echoed across the courtyard in perfect unison. Captain Kharzen stepped forward and opened the carriage door.
And Azram Vaerun Veyrath emerged, his dark hair stirred slightly in the afternoon breeze, his silver eyes calm and unreadable as always. His presence alone was enough to make the entire courtyard feel quieter.
And when they raised their heads, they froze.
Every expression in the courtyard changed.
The Azram of House Veyrath, the feared Silent Tempest, the man whose presence could silence an entire hall, was standing before them with a child in his arms.
Not just any child, a tiny girl. She was completely wrapped in Vaerun’s dark cloak, her little face barely visible above the fabric, and she was asleep peacefully.
As though being carried home by the most terrifying man in the empire was the safest place in the world.
Silence descended over the courtyard.
Renn blinked, his usually composed expression finally cracked. The knights stared, the maids stared, and the servants stared.
Even Captain Kharzen, who had already witnessed the events in the Imperial City, looked as though he still hadn’t quite accepted reality.
Vaerun, meanwhile, seemed completely unaffected by the dozens of stunned eyes fixed upon him. He simply continued walking across the courtyard, the sleeping child resting quietly in his arms.
Seyra shifted slightly against his chest, her tiny fingers tightening around the edge of his cloak before settling again. Vaerun glanced down at her for a moment. Then his gaze moved forward.
"Renn."
The butler immediately straightened. "Yes, Azram?"
"Prepare the largest chamber in the manor."
Renn nodded. "Of course, Azram."
Vaerun continued walking toward the grand entrance. "And make sure it is suitable for the little girl."
Renn’s steps faltered, and the servants behind him exchanged quick glances.
A chamber?
For the child?
Renn hurried after his lord. "I apologize, Azram, but may I ask who the chamber is being prepared for?"
Vaerun didn’t turn around; his silver eyes remained lowered toward the sleeping girl in his arms. "For my daughter, Seyra Vaerun Veyrath."
The courtyard exploded.
"WHAT?!"
Renn’s expression went blank, and Vaerun continued walking as though he had just announced the weather.
A collective gasp tore through the household. It sounded as though thunder had struck the courtyard itself.
One maid covered her mouth, another servant nearly stumbled backward, and several knights exchanged horrified looks, while Captain Kharzen simply closed his eyes for a moment as if silently asking the heavens for patience.
Renn stood completely frozen; no words came out. His brain appeared to have temporarily resigned from his body.
His daughter?! When did the Azram acquire a daughter?!
Vaerun, apparently unaware that he had just shattered the collective understanding of everyone in his household, continued toward the grand staircase.
"Until her chamber is prepared, she will stay in mine."
Another wave of stunned silence passed through the courtyard. Vaerun stopped at the first step, then, without even looking back, he added calmly,
"And send a few maids to clean her up."
Renn finally found his voice. "Y-yes... Azram."
Vaerun began ascending the stairs, his cloak still wrapped securely around the sleeping child, and the entire household watched him disappear toward the upper floor.
For several seconds, the courtyard remained so silent that the distant sound of the temple bells seemed almost painfully loud.
Then—
FWIP!
FWIP!
One head turned, then another and then another. Within seconds, every servant, maid, knight, and attendant in the courtyard had turned toward Captain Kharzen; their expressions were different, but their eyes held exactly the same question.
SPEAK.
WHAT HAPPENED?
Kharzen felt the weight of dozens of stares settle upon him; his normally composed face slowly went pale as he looked from one person to another.
Kharzen cleared his throat. "I will tell you, but stop staring at me like that."
Still, nobody moved.
Kharzen rubbed his forehead.
"You’re making this unnecessarily difficult."
Renn folded his hands behind his back, his expression perfectly dignified. "Captain, we are merely waiting for an explanation."
Kharzen stared at him.
"You’ve been waiting with the expression of a man preparing to hear the final words of a condemned prisoner."
Renn’s expression didn’t change. "Then perhaps you should speak quickly."
Kharzen sighed, and so, beneath the blazing afternoon sun of the Imperial City, Captain Kharzen began to tell them what had happened.
He told them about the Imperial streets and about the little beggar girl who had somehow walked directly toward the Azram without the slightest fear. He told them how she had boldly announced that she was willing to become Vaerum’s daughter.
He told them about the old beggar.
The bite, the chaos, the crowd, and finally—how the Azram had accepted her.
By the time Kharzen reached the part where Vaerum had given the girl his own name, the expressions of everyone listening had become increasingly difficult to describe.
Renn simply stood there, completely motionless. It sounded less like a report and more like a horrifying tale told beside a fire after midnight.
Except it was the middle of the afternoon, and unfortunately, it had actually happened. When Kharzen finally finished, silence descended over the courtyard once again.
Renn slowly looked toward the staircase where Vaerum had disappeared.
"And... where is Assistant Ravian?"
Kharzen let out a tired sigh. "He went to investigate the child’s background."
Renn frowned.
"How did he fail to stop the Azram?"
Kharzen’s mouth twitched. "Because by the time Ravian realized what was happening, the Azram had already decided, and when the Azram decides something, you might as well argue with the wind."
Nobody disagreed.
"Ravian went to find out who the child is, where she came from, and whether she has any family." The Captain Kharzan glanced toward the staircase. "But honestly... I don’t think any of that will matter because the Azram appears determined to make that child his daughter."
Several servants exchanged glances.
Renn remained silent for a moment before finally asking the question that had clearly been troubling everyone.
"But why? If he wanted a child, he could simply marry and have one."
A maid immediately lowered her head, pretending to be deeply interested in the floor. Renn continued, "Why this child?"
Nobody answered.
The courtyard fell quiet again, and Kharzen looked toward the upper floor. His expression became thoughtful.
"No one knows what the Azram is thinking."
Renn sighed. "That is rarely a comforting sentence."
The two men stood in silence, then Renn glanced once more toward the staircase. Somewhere above them, their terrifying Azram was currently carrying a sleeping four-year-old beggar into his private chambers.
House Veyrath had survived wars, political schemes, rival noble houses, and countless threats to its honor, yet somehow, everyone in the courtyard had the same uneasy feeling.
The greatest disaster to ever enter House Veyrath might not be an enemy army... It might be a four-year-old girl.
***
[House Veyrath — Azram Vaerum’s Private Chamber — Later]
When Seyra finally opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was a dragon.
A very large dragon.
It stretched across the enormous ceiling above her, its body carved and painted in gold and white, its enormous wings spreading toward opposite sides of the chamber. The golden dragon faced the crescent moon depicted on one side of the ceiling, its jaws open in a silent roar, while the white dragon faced the radiant sun on the other.
Seyra blinked as she stared at it for several seconds. "I’ve never seen a white dragon before."
"That’s because it exists only in temple prayers." The calm voice came from somewhere below.
Seyra turned her head.
Vaerum was seated near the lower diwan positioned beside the tall windows. His dark hair fell loosely around his face, and his silver eyes were lowered toward a parchment resting in his hand. A writing tablet and ink vessel sat beside him as he moved his brush steadily across the parchment.
He didn’t even look up. Seyra slowly pushed herself upright, still wrapped in his enormous cloak.
She looked around the chamber.
The walls were decorated with intricate golden carvings, ancient symbols, and murals depicting celestial beasts and the seven elemental forces. Bronze lamps hung from chains above the chamber, while the warm scent of incense lingered faintly in the air.
Seyra looked back at Vaerum. "Am I at your place?"
Vaerum finally lifted his gaze; his expression remained completely calm. "Where else would you be? A Veyrath resides in their own manor."
Seyra blinked, then a small smile appeared on her face.
So this is my home now.
The thought felt strangely satisfying; she pushed the cloak aside and climbed to her feet on the enormous bed. Vaerum’s eyes briefly shifted toward her.
Seyra looked around the room again, then curiosity took over as she stared at the parchment in Vaerum’s hand.
"What are you writing?"
Without looking particularly interested in the question, Vaerum answered, "A letter."
Seyra stared at him, and then she suddenly jumped from the bed.
"Wait—"
JUMP!
Vaerum’s silver eyes widened slightly. "Be careful—"
But Seyra had already landed; she barely paid attention to the warning before rushing toward him. "What are you writing?"
Vaerum lowered his gaze toward her, more specifically, toward her bare legs. "You could have fallen."
"I didn’t."
"That doesn’t make it sensible."
Seyra ignored him as she leaned over the parchment in his hand and examined the writing. For several seconds, she said nothing, then her expression slowly changed in complete disbelief.
Finally, her face went blank. "Wow...It looks like bugs crawling on a piece of paper."
Silence.
Vaerum stared at her. Seyra stared at the parchment, then she looked up at him. "I can’t understand anything."
Vaerum’s eyes remained fixed on her; his expression didn’t change, but something in his gaze went warm.
Before either of them could say anything—
KNOCK. KNOCK.
Both turned toward the door, and a woman’s voice came from outside. "Azram, it’s me, Mira."
Vaerum’s gaze returned to the parchment for a moment before he calmly said,
"Come in."
The heavy wooden doors opened as a young maid entered first, followed by three others. All four immediately lowered their heads respectfully.
"Azram."
Then they looked up and froze; their eyes went directly to the little girl standing beside Vaerum.
Seyra was still wrapped in his dark cloak, which was far too large for her small body, and she stood close enough to him that the sight was almost comically intimate.
The maids exchanged quick glances; they had been told to come and clean the new Lady of House Veyrath, and they had expected to find a frightened child somewhere in the chamber, but they had not expected to find her standing beside the Azram himself.
And judging by the way Vaerum calmly continued reading his parchment without showing the slightest sign of irritation at her presence, he didn’t seem to mind.
Mira’s eyes widened slightly. The other three maids exchanged equally stunned glances. Seyra, completely unaware of the silent crisis unfolding around her, simply looked at them.
"Clean her up," Vaerum said.
His tone was calm, almost casual, as though he were giving an ordinary household instruction. Mira immediately bowed.
"Yes, Azram."
When she straightened, she gave Seyra a gentle smile. "My lady... allow us."
Seyra nodded, and Mira extended her hand. As they began walking toward the adjoining bath chamber, Seyra suddenly stopped.
"But I don’t have any clothes."
Mira paused, then her smile became a little warmer. "We have some of the Azram’s childhood clothes, my lady. They should fit you for now."
Seyra nodded. "Then I’ll wear those."
"Of course, my lady."
Mira gently took her hand again, and the little girl followed the maids toward the bath chamber. Seyra’s bare feet made almost no sound against the polished stone floor.
Vaerum’s gaze lifted from the parchment, then his eyes lowered briefly to her small, dusty feet and then back to the parchment before him.
The document wasn’t an ordinary letter; at the top was the seal of House Veyrath. Vaerum dipped his brush into the ink and continued writing.
The letter was addressed to the Imperial Temple; he was formally informing the temple that he had adopted a child.
A daughter.
Seyra Vaerum Veyrath.
He would soon have her name entered into the family records and the ancient Veyrath family tree, making her place within House Veyrath official. There was one final instruction he had written at the bottom of the letter.
Vaerum’s silver eyes rested upon the words for a moment, then he pressed the seal of House Veyrath into the warm wax.
He wanted the high priest himself to be present.
Vaerum placed the sealed letter aside and stared out of the window, muttering, "I have to find out what exactly she is."
The little girl who had appeared in his life without warning was now being prepared as a member of House Veyrath.
There would be no turning back, and for reasons known only to him... Vaerum had already decided that was exactly how it should be.