36 - Bonds

The clang of steel finally faded, leaving the training yard in silence broken only by the ragged breaths of the knights. Sweat dripped from brows, muscles trembled from overuse, and the scent of dust and iron hung thick in the afternoon air.

For a heartbeat, the yard was nothing but exhaustion. Then came the sound of light footsteps, so soft they almost seemed out of place among the grizzled warriors.

The men straightened as one, fatigue forgotten. It wasn’t Baron Eldwin they feared, nor Cedric’s ever-watchful gaze. It was the small figure approaching them with all the cheerfulness of a spring breeze.

Luna.

The daughter of Duchess Valerie Terra. The granddaughter of Duke-Emeritus William Terra.

The child who, despite her size, carried a weight that could humble even seasoned knights.

The men stiffened, their tired eyes darting toward one another. Should they bow? Should they salute? Should they collapse where they stood, pretending their exhaustion had already claimed them?

But Luna noticed none of their hesitation. She marched forward with a grin so bright it almost hurt to look at, her robe swaying, her steps light and unhurried.

Behind her, Riona followed, hands folded neatly before her, though there was an unmistakable mischief in her eyes at the knights’ obvious discomfort.

“Darren!” Luna chirped, waving so enthusiastically that her entire upper body moved with the motion. “That was so cool! If Sarah had seen you just now, she’d fall in love all over again!”

Darren, halfway through sheathing his blade, froze. His ears went red before the color surged to his cheeks, and he looked very much like a man who had just been ambushed by his own heartbeat.

“L-Luna,” he managed, forcing his sword into its scabbard with slightly too much force. “That’s… you shouldn’t just—” He cut himself off, realizing there was no salvaging his dignity in front of both his comrades and his father. With a breath, he let the embarrassment settle and forced a smile. “Thank you.”

It was not a polished smile—the kind a noble might wear at court—but something warmer, something unguarded.

Luna’s grin widened.

And then Darren’s gaze slid past her, catching sight of the maid at her heels. His expression shifted, surprise flickering across his face.

“Riona,” he greeted with the respect due to someone who had once served in his household.

Riona inclined her head smoothly. “Young Lord Darren.”

There was no hesitation in her voice, no fluster. Unlike the knights, she did not stumble over how to address the girl at her side. To her, Luna was simply Luna. And Darren seemed to understand that unspoken truth.

Before the silence could stretch further, Luna turned on her heel, skipping a step closer to Baron Eldwin. Her eyes were round with admiration, her smile almost reverent.

“And Uncle,” she declared, as though the title were the most natural thing in the world, “you’re amazing! You’re so strong, and your swordplay—wow, it was so sharp! Like, whoosh!” She swung her arm dramatically through the air, nearly toppling herself over.

The knights froze.

Uncle?

Their gazes darted to Baron Eldwin in panic. Surely—surely he would be offended by such brazen familiarity. He was a baron, the lord of this domain, the very figure who had drilled discipline into their bones.

But to their collective shock, the man merely chuckled. His lips softened into a rare smile, his eyes crinkling faintly.

“Did you enjoy the performance then, Lady Luna?” he asked.

“No titles,” Luna shot back instantly, wagging a small finger. “I told you—just Luna. The whole ‘lady’ thing feels stuffy.”

Another round of horrified looks passed through the knights.

But Eldwin only inclined his head, his expression softening. “Very well. Luna it is. I am glad our training entertained you.”

“Not just entertained,” Luna said proudly, folding her arms as though she were the one passing judgment. “It was inspiring! Darren was really trying his best. And you—you moved like the sword itself was part of you. It made me want to grab a stick and join in.”

That earned a ripple of laughter, quickly stifled, from the more exhausted knights at the edge of the yard. Baron Eldwin’s smile deepened, and even Darren couldn’t quite keep the corner of his mouth from twitching upward.

Luna, oblivious to the chaos she had sown in the hearts of hardened men, simply beamed.

The sun slid higher overhead, burning away the last of the morning chill. Training had ended, and the promise of lunch hung in the air like salvation.

The knights dispersed slowly, dragging themselves toward the barracks to wash. Their whispers lingered, buzzing with confusion over what they had just witnessed, their baron allowing himself to be called “Uncle” by a child.

But Luna noticed none of it.

She was already being shepherded away by Riona, who guided her gently inside the manor.

“Lunch,” Riona said softly, as if sensing the little girl’s hunger before it could announce itself in an unseemly growl.

Luna perked up immediately. “Food?”

Riona laughed, the sound light. “Yes, Lady Luna.”

“Just Luna!” the girl corrected with a grin.

The dining room was quieter than Luna expected. No bustling servants, no chatter from Darren or Sarah. Only Baron Eldwin, already seated at the long polished table.

The sunlight streamed in through tall windows, catching on the silverware and making it gleam.

“Come, Lady—” Cedric began, but at the sharp look Luna shot him, he smoothly corrected himself. “Come, Luna. Your seat is prepared.”

Luna hopped onto her chair with practiced ease, legs dangling. She glanced around, then frowned.

“Where’s Sarah? And Darren?”

“Darren is waking Sarah,” Eldwin answered, setting aside his napkin. His tone was casual, but there was a softness beneath it, the kind reserved for family matters.

Luna’s face brightened instantly. “Ohhh, how sweet! I bet Sarah’s still half-asleep, and Darren’s probably all awkward about it. Maybe she even hugged him without realizing—” She clapped her hands, cheeks warming at the imagined scene. “That’s so romantic!”

Eldwin’s lips twitched, though he said nothing.

Riona, hiding a smile of her own, excused herself with a curtsey. “I will leave you to dine. There is still work to be done.”

“Wait!” Luna said, half-rising. “Can’t you eat with us?”

The maid shook her head gently. “It would not be proper, Luna.”

“But—”

“This is your host’s table,” Riona reminded softly. “And I am but a servant.”

Luna frowned, but slowly sank back into her chair. She wanted to argue—after all, wasn’t food better when shared?—but even she understood that this was someone else’s home. Sometimes, rules weren’t hers to bend.

“Fine,” she muttered, though her lips twitched in a pout.

When Riona’s footsteps faded, Luna found herself alone with Baron Eldwin.

The silence stretched, filled only by the faint ticking of a clock and the clink of cutlery as Cedric arranged the final details.

Luna drummed her fingers against the table, then looked up at Eldwin. Curiosity sparkled in her eyes.

“Uncle,” she began, “can I ask something? Something I noticed last night at dinner.”

His brow arched, though his expression remained composed. “You may.”

“It’s just…” Luna tilted her head. “Where’s Darren’s mother? She wasn’t at dinner, and she isn’t here today either. Is she okay?”

The question hung in the air.

Eldwin’s fork paused mid-motion. For a moment, his eyes darkened—not with anger, but with something quieter, heavier.

Luna’s chest tightened. Had she asked something she shouldn’t have?

She hurried to soften it, her tone playful. “I mean, she’s not gone-gone, right? Like—she’s not…” She trailed off, suddenly unsure how to phrase it without making things worse.

The silence stretched just a breath longer before Eldwin set his fork down gently. His expression shifted, the weight in his eyes easing.

“No,” he said at last. “She is not gone. My wife is in the capital. She serves the empire directly, as a government official.”

Luna let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, her shoulders sagging in quiet relief. The knot in her chest loosened, warmth spreading through her at the reassurance. She had feared the worst, but no—his wife was alive, thriving, serving.

That relief quickly gave way to wonder. If she wasn’t just safe, but working directly for the empire… then what kind of person must she be? The thought sparked a new light in Luna’s eyes, curiosity pushing past the remnants of her worry.

“She works for the empire?” Luna leaned forward slightly, her voice tinged with awe. “That’s amazing!”

Eldwin allowed himself the smallest smile. “Indeed. She is of a viscount family. Unlike myself, her kin did not hold land, but served the empire in administration. She continues that duty still.”

“What kind of work does she do?” Luna leaned forward eagerly, chin propped on her hands. “Like, does she stamp papers all day? Or is it more like running around giving orders?”

Cedric’s lips twitched, but he said nothing. Eldwin, however, chuckled softly at her bluntness.

“She oversees records, trade permits, and taxation reports. It is not as thrilling as swordplay, but it is vital. She ensures the empire runs smoothly, though I confess I cannot keep up with the details of her world.”

“That’s so cool,” Luna breathed, genuine admiration lighting her features. “You fight with swords, and she fights with… papers. Like a power couple!”

The baron blinked, then laughed, low and rich. “A curious way to phrase it. But yes… perhaps so.”

And for a moment, the noble, stoic man seemed less baron and more husband, pride glinting openly in his eyes.

It was then that Darren and Sarah finally entered, the door opening quietly to admit them.

The dining room doors opened with a muted creak, spilling a thread of sunlight across the polished floor.

Darren stepped inside first, his hair still damp from washing, his training tunic replaced by a fresh shirt.

Sarah followed just behind, her steps slower, almost reluctant. She rubbed at her eyes as though she had only just woken, though her cheeks held the faint flush of embarrassment.

Luna nearly bounced out of her seat.

“There you are!” she exclaimed, her voice a bright bell in the otherwise quiet room. “I was starting to think Darren got lost on the way to Sarah’s room. Or maybe he just wanted more alone time.”

Sarah froze. Darren stopped dead in his tracks.

“L-Luna!” Sarah sputtered, hands flying to her face.

Darren coughed into his fist, glaring at the girl though his ears betrayed him, glowing red against the dark of his hair. “That’s—don’t say things like that.”

“But it’s true, isn’t it?” Luna teased, her grin wicked in its innocence. “You were alone with her in her room. Who knows what happened?”

“Nothing happened,” Sarah insisted, though her voice cracked on the word.

Luna tilted her head knowingly. “Not yet, maybe.”

Sarah buried her face in her hands. Darren made a noise that might have been a growl or a strangled laugh. And Baron Eldwin—watching this exchange with the kind of calm that only years of fatherhood could grant—cleared his throat, the sound sharp enough to slice through the moment.

“Darren. Sarah. Sit.”

The pair obeyed instantly, like scolded children. Sarah practically collapsed into her seat beside Luna, her face still pink, while Darren sat opposite with the poise of a knight—save for the stiffness in his jaw.

Luna giggled behind her hand.

Cedric, ever the butler, moved with impeccable grace, placing fresh plates before the newcomers as though nothing unusual had occurred. Only the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth hinted at amusement.

The meal began.

For a time, the room was filled only with the gentle clink of cutlery and the rustle of napkins. The food was warm and fragrant—herbed chicken with roasted vegetables, fresh bread still steaming from the oven, and a rich stew that smelled of garlic and wine.

Luna dug in happily, though her attention never strayed far from the company around her.

Eldwin, moments ago the proud husband speaking of his wife, now wore his mantle of baron again. His back was straight, his gaze level, his every movement measured. A shift so sudden and deliberate that Luna couldn’t help but marvel.

It reminded her of a stage actor slipping between roles, only here the roles were no less real. Husband. Father. Lord. Warrior.

Beside her, Sarah ate quietly, her movements small, almost hesitant. She glanced at Darren now and then, only to quickly look away whenever their eyes met.

Darren, for his part, kept sneaking looks at Sarah, as though checking that she was eating enough, that her fatigue wasn’t weighing too heavily. Each time she caught him, he looked away, cheeks faintly pink.

Luna smirked to herself. She had never seen two people so obviously besotted and yet so utterly hopeless at showing it.

“Uncle,” she piped up suddenly, breaking the silence. “Your wife must be so amazing.”

Eldwin blinked, caught mid-bite.

“You were just talking about her,” Luna explained brightly, waving her fork as though to draw the others in. “I mean, if she can run things in the capital while you run things here, that’s like… teamwork on a level I can’t even imagine.”

She tapped her chin, pretending to ponder. “No wonder Darren turned out so serious all the time.” Her grin sharpened into mischief. “So stiff.”

Cedric nearly choked on a cough.

“Luna…” Darren groaned, his ears turning red.

But Baron Eldwin laughed, the sound genuine and low. “A curious description, but perhaps not undeserved.” His eyes softened with a private warmth. “She is formidable in her own right.”

Sarah lowered her gaze, her thoughts elsewhere. She had known, back when she served here, that the baron’s wife, Lady Clarisse, rarely resided in the manor—but hearing the affection in his voice struck her differently. 

Luna leaned back, satisfied, a mischievous sparkle in her eyes. “I’d like to meet her someday. She sounds like the kind of person who could scare even Darren into behaving.”

Darren dropped his fork with a clatter. “I behave just fine…”

Riona, passing by with a tray, snorted before quickly covering her mouth.

Lunch continued in lighter tones after that. Luna, of course, made sure of it.

She teased Darren relentlessly—about the way he had blushed earlier, about the training match, about how Sarah was obviously staring at him when he wasn’t looking. Each jab sent Sarah into sputters and Darren into groans, which only made Luna laugh harder.

Even Eldwin, stern though he was, seemed to soften under the girl’s mischief.

By the time the final plates were cleared, the heaviness of formality had given way to something warmer.

Eldwin stood, adjusting his cloak with a practiced motion. “I must attend to my office. Reports await.”

Cedric was instantly at his side, ready to follow.

Luna tilted her head as she watched the baron’s shoulders straighten, his face settling into the composed dignity of a lord once more. Only moments ago he had been laughing softly at her jokes, now he was Baron Eldwin again, every inch the noble.

The transformation amused her. It was like watching a cat groom itself into a lion in the blink of an eye.

“Thank you for lunch, Uncle,” she called cheerfully.

He paused at the door, glancing back just long enough to let the faintest smile cross his lips. “You are always welcome, Luna.”

Then he was gone, Cedric following in his wake.

The dining room felt emptier without him, though not unpleasantly so. Darren exhaled, shoulders loosening as though some invisible weight had lifted. He turned to Sarah, eyes softening.

“You look tired still,” he said gently. “You should rest a little longer.”

Sarah’s lips parted, an instinctive denial rising to her tongue. But Darren’s expression was earnest, concerned. She faltered.

“I…”

Luna cut in with a wide grin. “I’ll come with you! You can rest, and I’ll keep you company.”

Sarah blinked. “Luna, you don’t have to—”

“I want to,” Luna said firmly, hopping off her chair. “Besides, it’d be boring to just sit around by myself.”

Sarah hesitated, but Darren had already moved to her side, offering his hand to help her rise. His touch was gentle, steadying, though it made Sarah flush all over again.

Together, the three of them left the dining room. Darren led the way, guiding them through the manor’s quiet halls, his steps measured to match Sarah’s slower pace.

Luna trailed alongside, hands clasped behind her back, a sly smile tugging at her lips as she watched the pair. Darren’s subtle care, Sarah’s unspoken gratitude—it was all so obvious to her.

She wanted to tease them. Oh, how badly she wanted to. But for once, she held her tongue.

Sarah’s room was warm and inviting, the curtains drawn just enough to let in soft afternoon light. A faint breeze stirred the air, carrying with it the scent of flowers from the garden below.

Darren guided Sarah to her bed. “Rest,” he said simply, his voice leaving no room for argument.

Sarah opened her mouth—whether to protest or to thank him, Luna couldn’t tell—but Darren had already straightened.

“I still have work to do,” he said, glancing at Luna as well. “I’ll leave you two for now.”

“Work?” Luna asked.

“Yes,” Darren replied. “Real work. Not whatever scenario you might start imagining.”

Luna only grinned.

With a shake of his head, Darren left, the door closing softly behind him.

Silence settled.

Sarah sat on the edge of her bed, her hands fidgeting in her lap. Luna plopped down beside her, legs swinging.

For a moment, Sarah didn’t know what to say. The words tangled in her throat—worries about Luna’s identity, about what it meant for their friendship, about Darren and his father and the weight of nobility pressing in from all sides.

But before the silence could swallow her, Luna spoke.

“You know,” she began cheerfully, “Uncle doesn’t care that you’re not a noble.”

Sarah blinked. “What?”

“He doesn’t,” Luna said with absolute certainty, as though reading the baron’s heart like an open book. “He’s known about you and Darren for a long time—since before you left. He already supports you two.”

Sarah’s breath caught.

“That’s… that’s not…” She shook her head, panic rising. “He couldn’t possibly…”

“He does,” Luna interrupted, her smile unwavering. “He’s known for a long time. And he’s happy about it.”

Sarah stared at her, eyes wide. The words felt impossible, too good to believe.

But Luna didn’t waver. She leaned closer, her grin softening into something gentler.

“You’re important to Darren. That’s all Uncle cares about.”

Sarah’s throat tightened. Her doubts, her fears, all the little voices whispering that she wasn’t worthy, that she would only hold Darren back—they tangled together, threatening to choke her.

But then she looked at Luna.

At her innocent smile, her cat-like tilt of the head, her unwavering certainty.

Luna had never lied to her. Never once. Even her teasing, her playful exaggerations, carried truth tucked inside. She could be mischievous, reckless, even exasperating—but not false. Not when it mattered.

And in that moment, Sarah made a choice.

To let go.

Just for now. Just for this moment, she chose to believe.

Because in front of her sat Luna—not the daughter of a duchess, not the heiress of a powerful family, not the girl whose noble blood drew every eye. No, in front of her was simply Luna.

The same Luna who had once reached into her gloom and tugged her toward the light with a grin and a careless shove.

The same Luna who teased her until she wanted to scream, only to laugh in a way that made it impossible to stay upset.

The same Luna who looked at her—not with judgment, not with calculation, but with a kind of fierce, unshakable faith.

Her Luna.

The thought landed like a stone sinking into still water, ripples spreading outward through her chest. And as Sarah drew a shaky breath, she felt something loosen inside her—something she hadn’t even realized she had been clutching so tightly.

The fear didn’t vanish. The doubts didn’t evaporate. But they quieted, just enough for her to hear something else beneath them. Hope. Fragile, tentative, but real.

And for now, that was enough.