Chapter 12 – A Table of Warmth
(Clarisse's Point of View)
The estate came into view just after dawn — a stately house surrounded by well-kept gardens and the scent of morning dew. The gentle sound of water trickling from the courtyard fountain greeted us as the carriage rolled to a stop.
I stepped down from the coach, smoothing my healer's scarf. Even though I'd long since stopped caring about appearances, some part of me remembered the posture and grace drilled into us as noble daughters. Old habits die hard.
Serena followed, brushing travel dust from her cloak. "It's larger than I expected, my lady," she murmured, eyeing the neat stonework.
"It suits Ventis," I said softly. "Always practical, never ostentatious."
Before we could take another step, the doors opened — and there she was.
"Clarisse!"
My sister stood framed in the doorway, dressed in simple but elegant house robes, her smile bright with surprise and affection.
"Ventis," I greeted, warmth swelling in my chest. "You haven't aged a day."
"You, on the other hand, look far too thin," she said, wrapping me in a hug before I could reply.
I laughed. "Still the same as ever, little sister. Always scolding first."
She pulled back, eyes glimmering. "And you're still impossible to keep up with. Come in — you must be exhausted."
Serena bowed politely to her, and Ventis returned the gesture with a smile before leading us inside.
The house smelled faintly of baked bread and herbs. As we entered the dining hall, I caught sight of something unexpected — a boy, perhaps twelve or thirteen, with tousled chestnut hair and bright, curious eyes, wearing an apron slightly too big for him as he stood beside a table full of food.
Ventis's son. My nephew.
He turned as we entered, a hint of nervousness flickering in his gaze before excitement took over. "Aunt Clarisse?" he asked, voice full of energy.
"That's me," I said, smiling. "And you must be Baker."
He nodded quickly. "Welcome! Breakfast is ready! I helped make it myself."
I blinked, surprised. "You… cooked?"
Ventis sighed, though there was fondness in her voice. "He's been insisting on learning. The chef says he's got talent."
The table was filled with color — golden omelets folded over thin strips of Mandearoz venison, diced vegetables, and glistening melted cheese. Warm bread sat in woven baskets, steam rising from soft, fluffy loaves. A pot of clucker soup simmered gently, filling the air with rich aroma.
I felt my heart soften. He made this?
I took a seat beside Ventis as the boy hurried to pour tea for everyone, including Serena, who seemed mildly shocked at being served by a noble child.
When I cut into the omelet, the scent of herbs and mana touched my senses — faint but refined. My tongue tingled with warmth at the first bite, and for a moment I almost forgot to breathe.
"This…" I looked at him in surprise. "This has mana in it."
Baker looked nervous. "Y-yes, Aunt. I… I learned how to use it while cooking."
Ventis arched a brow. "He discovered it by accident, or so he says."
I chuckled softly, savoring another bite. "Accident or not, this is divine. You may have more talent for creation than most mages I've met."
He flushed pink with pride.
Serena whispered behind me, "The flavor balance… it's perfect."
The rest of breakfast passed with warmth and laughter. I found myself relaxing for the first time in months — no temples, no schedules, no long lines of the injured waiting for my hands. Just family, simple food, and a boy whose joy was as radiant as the dawn.
When the last plate was cleared, I leaned back, watching him tidy the dishes with a focus far beyond his years. "Ventis," I murmured, "you've raised quite the remarkable son."
She smiled softly. "He's stubborn like you. But yes… he's special." he' our son after all.
---
(Baker's Point of View)
As I gathered the plates, I could still feel Aunt Clarisse's warm gaze on me. My heart was beating fast — not from nerves, but excitement.
I had never met her before, yet somehow, she felt familiar — calm, wise, kind. There was strength in her presence, but also a deep gentleness that reminded me of something divine.
Maybe it was because she carried the aura of Althea's blessing — faintly shimmering around her like a veil of light.
I smiled quietly to myself. She liked it.
As I rinsed the dishes, I couldn't help but feel a quiet sense of satisfaction — a confirmation that the blessings of Lyra and Elyon were guiding me well.
And deep inside, I knew this was only the beginning.
Tomorrow, I would learn something new again.
Because every new day… was another chance to grow.