The living room had gone quiet again.
The television hummed softly in the background while Aldric lazily flipped through channels. Lyriana stood near the window, ever watchful.
Draven adjusted his siblings in his arms and headed toward the kitchen.
The cat followed immediately.
He stopped in front of the refrigerator and pulled it open.
A soft glow spilled out.
Cold mist brushed against his skin.
Draven stared inside.
"…Not too far off from the real thing," he muttered under his breath. "Just runes instead of electricity."
Along the inner walls of the fridge, faint inscriptions pulsed gently—cooling formations layered one over another. Stable. Efficient.
He reached in and grabbed two bottled drinks from the upper shelf, closing the top compartment with his elbow.
Then he bent down and opened the lower section.
Inside were neatly arranged pastries, wrapped breads, small cakes, preserved fruits—far more than he would have expected from a random town house.
Elenya's tiny arms suddenly stretched outward.
Her fingers opened and closed insistently.
Draven glanced at her.
"…You want one?"
He lowered her slightly.
She immediately grabbed a small pastry with both hands, nearly tipping herself over in the process.
Draven steadied her.
"Careful."
He straightened and glanced at Lucifer.
"You don't want one too?"
Lucifer simply stared at him, silent as always.
Draven sighed softly, picked up another pastry, and closed the fridge with his foot before standing upright.
He held one out toward Lucifer.
"Here."
Lucifer hesitated for half a second before accepting it with his small hands.
Draven looked between the two babies.
"…Now everybody has one."
A small meow interrupted him.
Draven slowly turned his head.
The cat was sitting at his feet, staring up at him.
Unblinking.
Expectant.
Draven narrowed his eyes slightly.
"…You too?"
The cat only stared.
He exhaled through his nose and tossed a pastry onto the floor.
"Here."
The cat immediately snatched it in its mouth and began dragging it across the ground, struggling but determined.
Draven shook his head faintly and started back toward the living room.
The cat followed, pastry scraping softly along the floor.
Before he could take more than a few steps—
"My lord."
Vaelith's voice was calm but firm.
Draven glanced at her.
She stood near the hallway entrance, hands folded respectfully.
"My lord should not give the young master and young miss such food," she said gently. "It is not healthy for them."
Draven looked down at Elenya, who was already attempting to devour her pastry with alarming enthusiasm.
Then at Lucifer, who was quietly examining his before taking a cautious nibble.
"…They'll be fine."
Vaelith's gaze sharpened slightly.
"They are not human children, my lord. Their bodies are different. Their nourishment must be appropriate."
Draven stared at her for a moment.
Then back at the babies.
"…It's just a taste."
Elenya had already smeared crumbs across her cheek.
Lucifer still held his carefully.
Behind him, the cat was aggressively tearing into its pastry as though it were prey.
Draven muttered under his breath.
"…Alright."
Vaelith stepped closer.
"At least allow me to prepare something more suitable afterward."
Draven didn't argue.
"…Do what you want."
But he didn't take the pastries away.
Instead, he walked back into the living room—siblings in his arms, cat dragging its food behind him, crumbs already marking their path.
Aldric glanced over and burst out laughing.
"You're feeding them pastries now?"
Draven shot him a flat look.
"Shut up."
Lyriana stared at the scene.
Then at the crumbs.
Then back at Draven.
"…This is getting ridiculous."
Draven dropped into a chair calmly, Elenya happily chewing, Lucifer still composed, and the cat growling quietly over its stolen treat.
For a brief moment—
It almost looked normal.
Draven twisted the cap open with one hand.
The seal cracked with a soft hiss.
He lifted the bottle and took a slow sip.
His face tightened immediately.
"…Tastes like shit."
He stared at the bottle for a second.
Then took another sip anyway.
Aldric glanced over from the couch, one brow lifting. "Then why are you still drinking it?"
Draven didn't look at him.
"It's cold."
He took another swallow, slower this time, forcing it down.
The artificial sweetness lingered unpleasantly on his tongue—too sharp, too synthetic. Even rune-cooling instead of ice couldn't fix bad flavor.
He exhaled faintly.
"…Still shit."
But he didn't stop.
Elenya, clutching her half-destroyed pastry, stared at the bottle with wide eyes. She reached toward it with sticky fingers.
Draven tilted it away immediately.
"No."
She leaned forward harder.
"No."
Lucifer quietly chewed his pastry, watching the exchange with suspicious interest.
The cat, having finished tearing apart its own, lifted its head and stared at the bottle too.
Draven looked at the three of them surrounding him.
"…Absolutely not."
He took another sip out of spite.
Lyriana crossed her arms. "If it tastes so unpleasant, you could simply stop."
Draven glanced at her.
"…You ever eat something bad and keep going just because you already started?"
Aldric snorted. "That makes no sense."
Draven shrugged faintly. "Exactly."
He leaned back in the chair, siblings in his arms, mana faintly circulating beneath his skin in its constant folded rotation.
The pain was still there.
Constant.
Low.
Persistent.
But manageable.
He closed his eyes for a brief moment, feeling it.
Still stable.
Still folding.
Still under control.
Elenya suddenly shoved her sticky hand against his jaw again, smearing crumbs along his cheek.
Draven opened one eye.
"…You're filthy."
She giggled.
Lucifer quietly reached up and touched Draven's collar with pastry-covered fingers as well.
Draven went still.
Then slowly looked down at his arm, now marked with crumbs and grease.
Aldric burst out laughing from the couch.
Lyriana pinched the bridge of her nose.
The cat climbed onto Draven's leg, trying to reach the bottle again.
Draven stared at the chaos surrounding him.
"…God damn it."
But despite the crumbs. Despite the terrible drink. Despite the bounty. Despite the war waiting outside.
He didn't move away.
He just took another sip.
"…Still tastes like shit."