Return of the General's Daughter

"Who did you say she is?" Prince Reuben asked, his voice low with incredulity, a faint furrow forming between his brows. His gaze narrowed slightly, as though questioning whether he had truly heard what he thought he had—or if his ears were playing tricks on him.

Percival stepped forward, his expression a strange fusion of pride and bittersweet sorrow. "Lara," he said, his voice taut with emotion. "The sister we lost two years ago. We found her."

The words landed like a thunderclap.

For a few minutes, silence hung in the air.

Then Percival felt his entire body freeze.

Alaric and Lara both turned to him in unison, eyes sharp as blades. The intensity of their twin glares sent a cold chill racing down Percival’s spine. The fine hairs on his arms stood on end, and for the first time that evening, he began to second-guess his own words.

Gideon, ever perceptive, had already sensed danger brewing. He had been throwing anxious, sidelong glances at Percival for the past minute, silently willing him to stop speaking. A swift nudge to the ribs followed—a subtle but desperate plea to shut his mouth before it was too late. But Percival, blinded by the emotion of the moment, remained oblivious. His entire focus was on the triumphant revelation that their long-lost sister now stood among them.

It was fortunate that they were quite in an isolated part of the banquet, so it was only Prince Reuben and his knight who heard what he said.

"Lara..." Reuben repeated slowly, tasting the name. He folded his arms. "So that is why the three of you have suddenly come to Calma?"