Everyone was waiting at the Manor. No one had slept, even though the night was already at its deepest. Luren, Keith, Clara, and Roan sat in silence at the receiving area, tension hanging thick in the air.
The doctor and his assistant were also present, prepared in case anyone arrived injured.
"Drink some tea," Butler Serio said softly, placing a tray on the table where the others sat nervously. He poured a cup and handed it to Luren.
Luren accepted it with a faint nod. The others quietly took their cups as well, the warmth offering little comfort against their growing
anxiety.
Suddenly, they all stood up, startled, when they heard hurried footsteps approaching the entrance. Hearts pounded. Someone was coming.
"Craige!" Luren cried out, running toward him with Claren cradled tightly in his arms.
"Move them inside—quickly!" Keith barked at the soldiers the moment he spotted someone bleeding.
Luren's breath caught in his throat as his eyes fell on Karin, limp and soaked in blood, being carried into the manor unconscious.
"Karin?" he whispered, his voice cracking in panic.
Then he looked down at Claren, noticing the crimson stains on the boy's clothes.
"Is Claren alright?" he asked urgently, his voice trembling as fear took hold of him.
"He's alright, don't worry," Craige said, his voice calm but firm, trying to ease Luren's visible worry.
"Butler Serio, bring me Claren's change of clothes," he commanded without taking his eyes off the unconscious boy.
"Everyone, return to your quarters," Craige ordered the soldiers. Without hesitation, they saluted and leave to go back to the cabin.
Meanwhile, Miller and Prince Karin had been moved to the guestroom. Keith and Clara stayed close, watching anxiously as the doctor and his assistant tended to their wounds. The room was heavy with silence, broken only by the rustle of medical cloth and quiet murmurs between the healers.
"You can all rest for the night," Craige said softly as he turned toward the guestroom, his footsteps heavy with exhaustion. But when he saw Claren again, pale and still, something in him faltered.
"Put him in my room," Luren suddenly spoke, his voice low but resolute. His eyes didn't leave Claren's face.
"I don't want him to be alone… not after what he's been through."
Craige looked at him for a moment, then gave a small nod. Without a word, he followed Luren's suggestion, silently agreeing that the boy needed comfort more than solitude.
They carefully changed Claren's clothes and gently wiped the blood off his skin, it must have come from Karin.
"You should rest as well," Craige said softly, pressing a kiss to Luren's forehead.
"Can I stay here with him?" Luren asked, his voice barely a whisper as he brushed the boy's hair tenderly. "He must be so afraid after everything that happened."
Craige nodded. "Alright. I'll be in my office, I need to send a letter to the king."
"You need rest too," Luren said, standing up and wrapping his arms around Craige in a quiet embrace.
Craige held him tightly for a moment. "Okay. Goodnight, baby," he murmured, kissing Luren one more time before heading to the adjacent room to shower.
Luren lay down beside the boy, gently placing a hand over Claren's small one. The warmth of the child's presence and the fading tension of the night lulled him quickly to sleep. He didn't even notice his own
exhaustion pulling him under.
After showering, Craige went straight to his office. He sat down at his desk, the soft scratching of his pen the only sound in the quiet room as he wrote a detailed report to the King about everything that had
happened that day.
A knock interrupted his thoughts.
"Your Grace, Miller and Prince Karin are now stable. They're sleeping soundly in the guestroom," Keith reported, his voice calm but tired.
Craige gave a relieved nod. "That's good. You can rest now, Keith."
"Yes, Your Grace. You should sleep as well," Keith said gently, noticing the exhaustion etched on Craige's face.
Craige offered a faint smile. "I will."
Once Keith left, Craige leaned back in his chair and sighed. His body ached with weariness, and the weight of the day pressed heavily on his shoulders. Tomorrow would bring more challenges—if Borg and Ione captured the assassins, interrogations would follow. He needed to be prepared.
He stood and left the office, heading back to their room. On the way, he paused at the adjacent door and quietly peeked inside. Luren and little Claren were already asleep, curled close together in peaceful slumber. A
soft smile formed on Craige's lips, the sight easing some of his tension.
He gently closed the door, then entered his own room. The bed was cold when he lay down, but the warmth of knowing they were safe slowly lulled him into sleep. His eyes finally closed.
Claren whimpered, his small voice trembling as it pierced the silence, waking Luren in the dead of night.
"No... help me..." he mumbled, caught in the grip of a nightmare.
Luren sat up quickly, his heart tightening at the sight. He gently pulled Claren into his arms, wrapping him in a protective embrace.
"Ssshhh... it's okay, little prince. You're safe now," he whispered softly, running his fingers through the child's hair to soothe him.
A door creaked open from the adjoining room.
"Is everything alright?" Craige's deep voice came quietly as he stepped inside, concern etched across his face.
"Yes, he's just having a nightmare," Luren said gently, glancing up. "Come, join us." He patted the empty side of the bed.
Craige crossed the room without hesitation. He lay down beside Luren, wrapping an arm around his waist in a warm, reassuring embrace.
"Let's go back to sleep," Luren murmured, patting Craige's hand resting on him, while his other arm remained around Claren protectively.
Craige reached over, brushing a gentle hand across Claren's tear-streaked cheek.
The room quieted, comfort and warmth settling like a blanket around them. The three slowly drifted back to sleep, safe in each other's presence.