Chapter 53: No Night Market?

"Yes! Deal! I promise!" Seraphina cheered, launching herself off the bed and sprinting toward him. She wrapped her arms around his waist in a massive hug. "You’re the best Papa Duke in the whole world! I’m gonna get a dragon, and a glowing lantern, and maybe a sword, too!"

"You are absolutely not getting a real sword," Kaelus muttered, resting a heavy hand on her head, completely failing to suppress the fond smirk that pulled at his lips.

He looked out the window toward the darkening sky over Oakhaven.

He didn’t know what the night held.

He didn’t know if the ’void’ would return.

But as he felt the small, energetic child hugging his waist, Duke Kaelus von Nacht knew one thing for certain.

If anything, human or otherwise, tried to ruin her Night Market trip, Oakhaven was going to need a lot more than a good Marquess to save it from the wrath of the North.

The preparations for the grand Night Market excursion were entirely derailed before they even crossed the threshold of the guest annex.

Seraphina was practically vibrating at a frequency that could shatter glass.

The maid had dressed her in a fresh, soft crimson dress with a little white pinafore, a far more practical outfit for navigating crowded streets than her silk gowns.

Sir Boris had spent twenty minutes meticulously weaving a new, slightly smaller flower crown that wouldn’t fall over her eyes, and Sir Gallahan had polished his boots to a blinding shine, ready to act as her personal tour guide.

Even Duke Kaelus von Nacht had conceded the outing, unbuckling the heavy, mythril-plated shoulder pauldrons of his combat armor and donning a slightly less terrifying, yet still impeccably tailored, dark leather overcoat.

He was currently checking the edge of a ’concealed’ dagger that was roughly the size of a short sword, looking every inch the overprotective, lethal warlord ready to carve a path through the city’s festival.

"I want a sugar dragon," Seraphina was chanting, skipping in circles around Kaelus’s legs. "And a glowing lantern! And I want to see the fire-breather! And maybe we can buy a real sword for Sir Lucas because his is getting dull!"

"My sword is perfectly sharp, My Lady," Lucas grunted from the doorway, though he was desperately trying to hide a fond smile behind his scarred hand.

Kaelus sheathed the dagger with a definitive click, looking down at the spinning child. "You will remain within a three-foot radius of my person at all times. If the crowd surges, I will carry you. If anyone offers you a candied apple that I have not personally tested, decline it. Do we have an agreement?"

"Yes, Papa Duke!" Seraphina saluted smartly, nearly tripping over her own feet. "Operation Sugar Dragon is a go!"

Kaelus let out a long, long-suffering sigh that lacked any real heat.

He reached out to open the heavy oak doors of the annex.

But the doors opened from the outside before his hand could touch the brass ring.

Standing in the corridor, completely blocking their path, was Marquess Julian Myer.

The flawless, impeccably polite noble did not have his signature gentle smile.

The golden warmth in his eyes had hardened into something cold, heavy, and absolute.

He was flanked by four of his own elite estate guards, though they looked incredibly nervous standing so close to the Black Bastion group.

Julian looked at the fully armed knights.

He looked at Kaelus’s leather coat. And finally, his eyes landed on Seraphina, who was frozen mid-skip, her hands clutching the edges of her crimson pinafore.

"Going somewhere, Kaelus?" Julian asked, his voice entirely devoid of its usual melodic pleasantry.

It was flat, unyielding, and carried the undeniable authority of a lord standing in his own territory.

Kaelus’s posture shifted instantly.

The relaxed father vanished, replaced by the Reaper.

He stepped smoothly in front of Seraphina, shielding her from Julian’s gaze. "Seraphina is fully recovered. She has requested to see the Night Market. We are taking a brief excursion before our departure tomorrow."

"No."

The single syllable dropped into the hallway like an anvil.

Sir Lucas and Sir Gallahan instantly stiffened, their hands drifting instinctively toward their weapon hilts.

Nobody, absolutely nobody, said ’no’ to the Archduke of the North.

It was tantamount to a declaration of war.

Kaelus’s violet eyes narrowed to dangerous slits.

The ambient mana in the hallway began to grow heavy, crackling with the static electricity of his rising temper. "Excuse me?"

Julian did not flinch.

He met the Archduke’s lethal glare with a steady, uncompromising stare of his own. "I said no, Kaelus. You are not taking her to the Night Market. Not tonight. Not any night. The gates to the city are locked for my guests, and my guards have orders not to let your carriage pass."

A heavy silence descended on the group.

The tension was so thick it could be carved with a spoon.

Behind Kaelus’s massive legs, Seraphina felt the sudden disruption of her plans.

Her mind immediately analyzed the situation.

Julian was blocking the door.

Julian was serious.

Kaelus was getting angry.

The trip was being canceled.

The sugar dragons were evaporating into the ether.

The glowing lanterns were being snuffed out.

But it was the six-year-old body, swimming with child-like hormones and emotional volatility, that reacted first.

’No... no Night Market?’

Seraphina’s lower lip began to tremble.

It was a microscopic quiver at first, but it rapidly escalated.

Her dark eyes widened, pooling with giant, crystalline tears that magnified the absolute, unadulterated heartbreak of a child who had just been told that the festival was canceled.

She wasn’t faking it.

The disappointment was genuinely crushing after days of confinement.

She let out a wet, pathetic, and incredibly snotty sniffle.

The sound hit the Vanguard like a physical artillery shell.

Kaelus whipped his head around, looking down at her.

Seraphina looked up at him, her face crumpling.

A giant teardrop spilled over her eyelashes, tracking down her cheek.