Chapter 70: Grumpy Hegdehog

"He’s just brooding," Seraphina translated flawlessly, her mind instantly recognising the situation.

She looked at the heavy oak doors.

She could literally see the dark, wispy tendrils of Kaelus’s frustrated mana seeping through the cracks in the wood, freezing the brass hinges.

She looked at the terrified knights.

Then she looked at the tray.

"Give me the tray, Sir Gally," Seraphina commanded, reaching her small hands out.

"Lady Seraphina, I cannot," Gallahan pleaded. "His aura is unstable right now. He needs time to gather his thoughts and calm down."

"He needs to eat some sweets," Seraphina corrected, entirely unfazed. "He’s a grumpy hedgehog who didn’t get to catch his bug. Give me the plate!"

Reluctantly, terrified that he was sending a lamb into a dragon’s den, Gallahan slid a small porcelain plate holding a slice of strawberry shortcake into her tiny hands, adding a small silver fork.

Seraphina turned toward the door.

She didn’t knock or announce her presence.

She simply leaned her weight against the heavy wood, pushing it open with a soft creak.

The interior of the study was submerged in shadows.

The curtains were drawn, and the fireplace was entirely dead, the logs coated in a thick layer of magical frost.

Sitting behind the massive mahogany desk, his head resting in his hands, was Kaelus.

The air in the room was so thick with destructive intent that Seraphina’s Supreme Dark Core reflexively pulsed, purring happily as it absorbed the heavy, death-soaked mana like a sponge soaking up water.

She marched into the room.

Pat. Pat. Pat.

The sound of her small leather shoes hitting the carpet cut through the oppressive silence.

Kaelus did not look up. "Leave me, Lucas. Tell everyone not to disturb me when I’m thinking."

"I am not Sir Lucas," Seraphina announced, stopping directly in front of the desk. "Sir Lucas is hiding in the hallway because you are being so scary."

Kaelus’s head snapped up.

The terrifying, glowing violet voids of his eyes immediately softened, the radioactive intensity dialing down the moment they landed on her.

But the heavy, dark cloud of his frustration remained.

"Seraphina," Kaelus sighed, rubbing his temples, his voice rough with exhaustion. "You should not be in here. My mana is volatile right now. I do not wish to accidentally subject you to the cold."

"I like the cold, Papa," Seraphina lied smoothly, though her dark core genuinely did enjoy his aura.

She walked around the desk.

Kaelus watched her, too exhausted to protest.

He expected her to stand beside his chair, perhaps asking for a story.

Instead, Seraphina shoved the plate of cake onto the edge of the desk.

She turned around, grabbed the heavy, ornate armrest of his leather chair, and began to clumsily, determinedly scale him like a piece of playground equipment.

Kaelus froze, completely stunned.

She hoisted her short legs up, grabbed his broad shoulder for leverage, and unceremoniously dropped herself directly into his lap.

She squirmed for a moment, getting comfortable against the hard leather of his trousers, and then leaned back, resting her head squarely against his chest.

She picked up the plate of cake from the desk.

Kaelus was rigid.

The Archduke of the North, the man who had just spent thirty-six hours tearing an underground city apart in a blind rage, was sitting completely paralyzed, with a six-year-old girl perched in his lap.

"Open up," Seraphina commanded.

Kaelus blinked. "What?"

Seraphina loaded the silver fork with a massive, disproportionate amount of strawberry, whipped cream, and sponge cake.

She held it up, aiming roughly for his face.

"You haven’t eaten for so long," she scolded him, her tone a perfect, hilarious mimicry of a strict matron. "You are brooding. But even brooding takes energy. Open your mouth, Papa."

Kaelus stared at the fork.

Then he stared at the child.

The absurdity of the situation slammed into him.

He was the Reaper.

He was the Sovereign of the Vanguard.

And he was currently being aggressively fed pastries by a toddler.

"I am not hungry," Kaelus protested weakly.

"I didn’t ask if you were hungry," Seraphina countered flawlessly.

She pushed the fork forward.

Squish!

Because her coordination in her six-year-old body was not perfect, and because the fork was overloaded, the trajectory was slightly off.

The piece of cake missed Kaelus’s mouth by a fraction of an inch and went squish directly against his aristocratic, flawlessly carved cheek.

A blob of white whipped cream and red strawberry jam smeared across the Reaper’s face.

Outside the cracked door, Sir Lucas gasped so loudly he almost choked on his own spit.

Kaelus froze.

He slowly lowered his eyes to look at the mess on his face.

Seraphina froze, too.

’Uh oh,’ her adult mind panicked. ’Too far. Did I push the Leviathan too far?’

For exactly two seconds, the room hung in a state of absolute, suspended animation.

Then, very slowly, Kaelus reached up with his thumb.

He wiped the cream from his cheek, stared at it for a moment, and then put his thumb in his mouth, tasting the sweet vanilla.

The dark, suffocating, freezing storm clouds of his aura vanished.

They evaporated into thin air, replaced by a sudden, booming, chest-rattling sound.

Kaelus von Nacht threw his head back and laughed.

It was a genuine, unrestrained, deep-bellied laugh that echoed off the mahogany walls.

The sound was so foreign, so incredibly rare, that it made the knights in the hallway stare at each other as if the sky had just turned green.

He laughed until the tension bled entirely out of his broad shoulders.

He looked down at Seraphina, who was still holding the empty fork, looking flustered and confused by his sudden booming laughter.

"Your accuracy leaves much to be desired, Mushroom," Kaelus chuckled, his violet eyes warm and crinkling at the corners.

He reached out, wrapping his massive arms around her, securing her in his lap.

He leaned forward, picked up the silver fork from her hand, reloaded it with a smaller piece of cake, and ate it himself.