Return of the General's Daughter

Outside, the nimbus clouds that had cloaked the manor in the last few hours suddenly parted—ripped open by an unseen hand to reveal a brilliant sky, as though the world itself exhaled in relief. The sun spilled through the windows, illuminating the radiant light of the ancient tapestries and silver filigree.

Prince Alaric, standing near Lara, caught the shift in atmosphere. He knew what it meant. He had overstayed his welcome, and the time had come to leave.

He bowed respectfully to Odin and Freya, then turned toward the door. But his gaze lingered—longer than necessary—on Lara. The air between them was thick with a thousand unsaid things. Then, with quiet grace, he stepped out.

"Lara, dear," Freya said softly. "I strongly advise you to still think through it. While Prince Alaric is better than the crown prince, he is still a royal." She looked at Lara with gentleness. "If a royal decided to take concubines, then you can do nothing about it. This is tradition. I don’t like you to be burdened with the petty jealousies of women sharing one husband."

Asael suddenly found an opportunity to find fault with Prince Alaric. "Mother is right. Prince Alaric already had two concubines. I don’t think you will be happy with a man having more than two wives." Asael proudly looked at his parents.

"Father has only one wife, and look at how happy mother is. Father still looked at our mother with devotion, even at their age."

Odin glared at Asael. What did he mean by that? Does he think that he was too old to dote on his wife?

Lara smiled. Her big eyes turned into crescents. "Brother," she turned and looked at the man with a face almost similar to hers. "Alaric had divorced his two concubines and sent them back to their families."

"What?" It was not just one voice that asked, but a chorus of four voices.