The Draven estate was alive with the sound of children's laughter. Astra's sextuplets ran across the courtyard, chasing each other through the blooming gardens, their voices ringing like music. Lyra and Selara clung to Mukul's arms, begging him to play one more round of their invented strategy game. Mukul, patient as always, knelt and explained the rules, adjusting the pieces with the same focus he used when leading his organization.
Anaya stood nearby, smiling faintly as she watched. The sight of Mukul with Astra's children tugged at something deep inside her—a longing she rarely allowed herself to feel. Her eyes grew distant, her body still though the garden swirled with motion and warmth.
Astra noticed. She moved closer, her healer's intuition recognizing the shadow hidden beneath her cousin's calm mask. "Anaya," she asked softly, "what's on your mind?"
Snapped out of her thoughts, Anaya blinked quickly, forcing a small smile. "Nothing," she replied casually, brushing it off. "Just… watching them play. It's peaceful."
But Astra's gaze lingered. She had seen warriors conceal wounds before, both on battlefields and within their hearts. She didn't press further—yet the question stayed with her.
Later that evening, as twilight draped itself across the Draven estate, Astra sought answers. In the council room, she approached Kaelen Draven, her husband, who was reviewing encrypted reports. "Kael," she began, her voice steady but concerned, "tell me the truth about Mukul and Anaya. I can see it in their eyes—they carry something heavier than just leadership or missions. What is it they truly seek?"
Kaelen set the data-pad aside, his expression hardening with the weight of guarded truth. He exhaled slowly, then met Astra's eyes. "Their primary mission here is not simply to expand influence or secure alliances. It is something far more personal."
Astra tilted her head, her heartbeat quickening. "Personal?"
"Yes." Kaelen's voice dropped lower, as if the very shadows of the room needed to keep the secret. "Their real mission is to find their long-lost elder sister. A sibling who vanished from their family long ago—someone they have only fragments of clues about. Every move, every trace they follow, every alliance they form… it all comes back to her."
Astra's lips parted in surprise, her healer's heart instantly connecting the dots. "Their sister…" she whispered, glancing toward the window, where Mukul and Anaya were visible under the fading light, still surrounded by her children. Mukul laughed softly as Selara tugged at his sleeve, and Anaya, though quiet, leaned just close enough to protectively watch him.
"That explains everything," Astra murmured. "Why Anaya's eyes drift when she sees family together. Why Mukul carries that weight even in his laughter. They're not just building empires—they're trying to complete their family."
Kaelen nodded gravely. "Yes. And it's not without risk. Their sister is powerful, elusive, and deeply entrenched in her own path. Finding her means navigating not only enemies but also her own walls. They have no guarantee she will even accept them."
Astra placed her hand against her chest, feeling a pang of empathy. "Then no wonder they seem torn between hope and fear. It's not just a mission. It's a wound they're trying to heal."
Kaelen's gaze softened as he looked at Astra. "Exactly. Which is why, as allies and family, we must be patient. Mukul and Anaya will not reveal the depth of this pain easily—but they will need us when the moment of truth comes."
Astra turned back to the garden, her eyes lingering on Anaya's faint smile as she gently fixed one of Lyra's braids. The healer in Astra wanted to reach out, to offer comfort, but she also understood: some wounds were not hers to heal. They belonged to time, trust, and the choices Mukul and Anaya would make when they finally stood before their elder sister.
And so, Astra made a silent vow. When the time comes, I will stand with them. Not just as family, but as someone who understands the gravity of love lost and love regained.
In the courtyard, laughter rose again, but beneath it lay an unspoken promise: the search for their sister was far from over—and when the moment of reunion came, it would change everything.