Return of the General's Daughter

The atmosphere at the manor shifted quickly from joyful reunion to tense anticipation. Though Lara maintained a composed demeanor, every glance toward the horizon carried the unspoken question: Where are they?

Inside the grand hall of the manor, warmth and light greeted the weary travelers. The high ceilings arched like cathedral vaults, their ribs carved with vines and dragons—a blend of ancient craftsmanship and modern elegance. Colored glass windows painted streaks of red, blue, and amber across the polished stone floor.

Servants appeared, quiet and efficient, taking cloaks and preparing hot water. Trays of warm bread, fruit, herbal tea, and fruit juices were set out for the guests. The children ate eagerly, their exhaustion momentarily forgotten, while the women settled onto cushioned benches and chairs, eyes still wide at the splendor around them.

Atalia was taken to a quiet room near the rear courtyard, where a midwife waited to check on her recovery. Lara ensured everything was arranged—soft linens, clean water, and a comfortable bed. Amnon stayed by his wife’s side, taking care of her and their son.

Zeeta stood near a window, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. She watched as shadows lengthened in the garden below. "It’s beautiful," she murmured, not to anyone in particular. "I never imagined such peace."

"It won’t last," Layka said quietly beside her. "Not until we know the men are safe."

Zeeta nodded, her throat too tight for words.

...

In the library of his palace, Alaric stood beside a massive map stretched across the wall. He had summoned his commanders. Agilus entered first, followed by two scouts freshly returned from the Hainai route.

"Still no sign of them?" Alaric asked, eyes never leaving the map.

"None, Your Highness," one of the scouts replied. "We found tracks heading south, but then they disappeared into the marshland."