As the crimson night began to fade, Midnight Kingdom, casting a faint silver hue upon its still-sleeping streets. The royal palace loomed over the silent city, its moonstone spires shimmering in the soft transition between night and morning.
Inside the palace, King Sylas sat alone in his study, a dim lantern illuminating the endless tower of parchment stacked before him. His hand moved steadily, signing and stamping document after document with meticulous precision.
"Your Majesty," came a gentle voice beside him. It was his black-haired attendant, bowing slightly with concern etched on his face. "I think you should rest. You've been at this since midnight."
Sylas did not look up. His eyes remained fixed on the papers. "I appreciate your concern," he replied evenly, "but I do not have the time to rest."
The attendant hesitated, his brow furrowed. "If I may, Your Majesty... why this sudden surge of work? Does it have to do with the Emperor's recent decree—the execution of all traitorous criminals?"
The scratching of the quill stopped. Sylas placed his pen down and exhaled a weary sigh. His eyes, heavy with guilt, lifted toward the faint morning light filtering through the curtains.
"I am a failure," he said quietly. "A failure as a king… and as a father."
"Your Majesty, that's not true," the attendant protested softly. "You are a magnificent ruler. The people love you—"
"I stood idly by," Sylas interrupted, his voice cracking. "When that cursed boy committed his crimes... I did nothing. And when he imprisoned my daughter—" His expression hardened, grief flooding his tone. "I was powerless to stop him. Tell me, what kind of father allows that?"
"Your Maje—"
The attendant's words were cut short as the study doors burst open.
"Your Majesty!" a maid cried breathlessly, nearly stumbling as she rushed in.
Sylas rose instantly, his sharp gaze locking on her trembling form. "What is it?" he demanded, already sensing something out of the ordinary.
The maid took a shaky breath. "Your Majesty, you've heard the reports about the Eclipse Tower, yes?"
"I have," Sylas replied impatiently. "Why are you here? What news do you bring?"
Her hands twisted nervously at her apron. "Your Majesty... you have a guest. They're waiting in the throne room. Her Majesty is already there."
That caught Sylas off guard. His wife, Queen Aveline,left her chambers to greet a guest at this time, she wouldn't do that unless it was important. His mind raced. A guest? At this hour?
Without another word, he strode past the maid, his heart pounding as he made his way down the long moonlit corridors. His boots echoed against the polished floors as he approached the grand Moonstone Door, its silver engravings glimmering like stars in the dim light.
The knights guarding it pushed the heavy door open. Sylas stepped inside.
At first, he saw only his wife's back. She stood motionless, her posture unusually tense. But then, as he drew closer, he saw the strangers before her—a silver-haired man cradling a small child, a tall white haired man with wolf ears, another man with ink-black hair and pale skin, and finally… a silver-haired woman holding a second child in her arms.
Sylas frowned, confused. "Aveline, what is this—?"
The queen turned toward him slowly, tears welling in her eyes. And there—standing just behind her—was a face Sylas hadn't seen in five long, torturous years.
Ailaria. His daughter.
He froze, his breath catching. For a long moment, he couldn't move, couldn't speak—only stare in disbelief.
"It's been quite some time… Father," Ailaria said softly, her voice trembling with restrained emotion.
That voice shattered the illusion of a dream. Reality struck him like a thunderbolt.
"Darling," Aveline whispered tearfully, "say something to her."
Sylas opened his mouth, but no words came. His daughter's eyes began to glisten, her lips trembling.
"Father," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I know I've been nothing but a disappointment to you, but I—"
Before she could finish, Sylas closed the distance and pulled her into his arms.
"The only disappointment here," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion, "is me."
Her eyes widened in shock as she felt his trembling hands around her. "I failed you, Ailaria. As a father… I'm so sorry."
Ailaria broke down, tears spilling freely as she buried her face into his chest. "Father…" she wept, clutching his robes tightly. For the first time in years, the cold palace air felt warm again.
From a short distance away, Vlad exhaled deeply, crossing his arms. "There's a lot of crying happening today," he muttered, though there was a faint smirk on his lips.
"It is only natural," Aisha Drakonia replied softly, her silver eyes glimmering. "They have not seen one another for quite some time."
A few steps beside her, Aurelius tilted his head toward Zackary. "Master, your mate and her family seem… rather emotional."
Zackary smiled faintly, gently adjusting the sleeping Amelia in his arms. "It's not a bad thing," he said quietly. His sky blue eyes softened as he watched the reunion unfold.
Sylas finally drew back, scanning his daughter anxiously. "What happened at the tower? Are you hurt?"
"I'm fine, Father," Ailaria reassured him softly.
"See, dear?" Aveline said gently, wiping her tears. "She's perfectly fine."
Sylas nodded but frowned again as his gaze shifted toward the strangers standing behind her. "Aveline… who are these people with our daughter?"
"They're the ones who saved me," Ailaria explained.
Sylas's expression flickered. "Wait... those children?" He looked at the little ones curiously, realization dawning. "They're yours?"
Ailaria nodded proudly. "Yes, Father. Mother. These are my children."
Sylas's eyes widened as he examined the twin-like features—the elven ears, the silver hair—and then his gaze met Zackary. Recognition struck him like a lightning bolt. "He's their father, isn't he?"
"Yes," Ailaria replied without hesitation.
Sylas straightened, his tone firm but cautious. "And these others… who are they?"
One by one, they introduced themselves.
"I am Aisha Drakonia, head maid of the Demon King's Castle in the Twilight Domain," Aisha said respectfully.
"I am Vlad Constantine, King of Vampires and Duke of the Twilight Domain," Vlad followed, his crimson eyes calm.
"I am Aurelius, known to mortals as Fenrir. I serve my master," he said, gesturing toward Zackary.
Then Zackary stepped forward, his voice steady. "I am Grand Duke Zackary Gray Vermillion, second only to the Demon King. It's an honor to meet you."
Sylas's eyes widened in disbelief. "Ailaria… tell me they're joking."
"They aren't, Father," she replied gently.
Aveline's hands flew to her mouth. "My gods… my daughter had children with the Demon King's right hand," she whispered, half-stunned.
As confusion and shock swirled between them, Ailaria took both sleepinh children—Gray and Amelia—into her arms and approached her parents. "I know this is much to take in, but I've longed to introduce my children to you."
Sylas hesitated but finally reached out. When he took Amelia into his arms, he could only gaze at the sleeping child in he's arms.
"Mama," she babbled softly im her sleep, gripping his shirt.
The single word shattered what little composure Sylas had left. His eyes glistened, a soft smile spreading across his face. Aveline, unable to resist, picked up Gray and held him tenderly watching the sleeping boy.
"You all must be exhausted," Sylas said after a long pause, his tone unexpectedly gentle. "Rest for now. We'll speak properly in the morning."
Ailaria blinked. "Father… does this mean—?"
"I've already failed you once," Sylas said, meeting her gaze. "I won't do it again."
Aveline nodded, handing Gray back to Ailaria. "Your room is ready," she said kindly. "It's been cleaned every four days since you left. It's still the same."
Ailaria smiled softly, touched by the sentiment.
"Zackary," she called gently. He stepped forward, taking Gray into his arms. Sylas gave him a brief, glare before handing Amelia back to Ailaria.
"I'll speak with you in the morning," Sylas said walking away. Then, after a pause, his expression softened. "Welcome home."
Those two simple words made Ailaria's heart tremble. "Thank you, Father," she whispered as he left.
When Aveline returned, her expression was warm. "Your father has truly missed you, my dear," she said. "Rooms have been prepared for your companions. Please, follow the maids."
Aisha, Vlad, and Aurelius followed their escorts out, leaving Ailaria and Zackary alone with Aveline.
"That maid must be for me," Zackary began, but stopped when Ailaria's hand caught his sleeve. Her gaze met his.
"Oh my," Aveline murmured, surprised by her daughter's boldness. "I suppose you'll be staying together tonight." With an amused smile, she dismissed the maid. "I'll have clothes sent to your room," she said, before gracefully departing.
As they walked the dim corridor, silence stretched between them.
"Were you really going to sleep in a different room?" Ailaria asked quietly, holding Amelia close.
Zackary's voice was calm but uncertain. "I wasn't sure how to act around you. I thought giving you space was best."
Her eyes softened. "I thought I'd calmed your doubts before," she said sadly.
"You did," he admitted. "But it will take time for me to get used to..you..to. us."
Ailaria stopped at a grand moonstone door, its surface etched with a luminous moon crest that shimmered under the soft corridor light. "I understand," she said, turning to face him. "But I've been alone in that tower for five years, longing for many things. Above all, I wanted to see my children... and you. You're not exactly the same man I knew, but you have to idea how alike you are it's almost comforting how oblivious you are to the fact that you and the old Zackary are exactly the same. So, please—just for now—give in to my whims."
Zackary studied her expression, her sincerity reflected in her eyes. Finally, he smiled faintly. "Alright. Maybe by giving in, I'll get to know you faster."
Ailaria's smile deepened, gentle and warm. Together, they entered the moonlit chamber with their children, the door closing softly behind them.
Later that night, in the royal study, Sylas sat beside Aveline on the sofa, a cup of tea cooling in his hand.
"Are you alright, love?" Aveline asked softly, noticing the tears shimmering in his eyes.
He set the cup down and rested his head on her lap. "I'm overjoyed she's home… but I never imagined the father of her children would be the Demon King's right hand."
Aveline smiled faintly. "And does that change how you see them?"
Sylas closed his eyes. "No," he said firmly. "I won't abandon my family again."
"Then," Aveline said warmly, brushing his hair back, "you have my full support."
After a quiet pause, she added, "What of the Emperor?"
Sylas's eyes opened, sharp and thoughtful. "We'll need Herald's help," he said simply.
Aveline's eyes widened slightly, then she smiled knowingly. "I never thought I'd see the day you'd make that suggestion."
The Next Morning
Sunlight spilled through the tall windows of a grand bedchamber, painting gold across the silken sheets. Ailaria's black hair shimmered in the light, her arms wrapped around Zackary's waist as he lay beside her. The bed was empty of their children.
Zackary stirred, blinking against the sunlight. He tried to move but found himself pinned by Ailaria's embrace. A small smile tugged at his lips before he gently freed himself, careful not to wake her.
Scanning the room, he noticed the door slightly ajar. "Sneaky children," he muttered, casting a faint spell to track them. The trail of magic led him outside to the palace gardens.
Through a valley of morning flowers, he spotted Gray and Amelia laughing as they played with a black-haired boy.
"That's Ailaria's brother, apparently," Vlad remarked, appearing beside him without warning.
Zackary glanced sideways. "You're up early."
"I'm a vampire," Vlad smirked. "Sleep is optional." With that, he strolled off.
"Papa!" Amelia called out, running toward Zackary with Gray following close behind. Zackary knelt, opening his arms as they leapt into his embrace.
"Good morning, Father," Gray said proudly, his small face glowing.
Zackary chuckled. "Good morning.
"Is Mama awake?" Amelia asked. "Mama's still sleepy!" Zackary said gently.
A polite voice spoke then, drawing Zackary's attention. "Good morning, Grand Duke."
A young man with jet-black hair bowed respectfully. "I'm Ashley Tristan Midnight, your children's uncle. It's an honor to meet you."
Zackary nodded. "Likewise. Thank you for keeping them company."
"Don't mention it I've wanted to meet my sister's children since I heard she gave birth" Ashley spoke a hint of sadness in he's voice
Footsteps approached. Sylas entered the garden, his presence commanding yet calm.
"Your Majesty," Zackary greeted respectfully.
"Your Grace," Sylas said, "might I have a word?"
Zackary smiled at his children. "I'll be right back, alright?"
He followed Sylas to a shaded terrace where a maid was already waiting with tea. Sylas motioned for him to sit.
"I must say," Sylas remarked with faint amusement, "you're brave to walk the palace in your sleepwear."
Zackary glanced down, embarrassed. "My children vanished. I had no time to change."
Sylas chuckled lightly at Zackary's response.
"So what do you need to speak to me about?" Zackary asked bluntly.
Hearing Zackary's bluntness his face turned serious. "Then I'll get straight to the point."
Zackary met his gaze. "I'm listening."
Sylas exhaled deeply. "You and Ailaria will be getting married in four days."
Zackary froze. "...I'm sorry—what?, I think i misheard you"
Before he could process it, a deep voice sounded behind him. "You heard correctly," said a tall, brown-haired man stepping into view. "You'll marry my niece in four days."
"Herald," Sylas said with a smirk, "you made it early."
"I had to see Aila's future husband for myself," Herald replied with a grin.
Zackary sat there in stunned silence, his teacup trembling in his hand. Married? In four days?
Meanwhile, Ailaria was still asleep—blissfully unaware of the chaos awaiting her when she awoke.