"Miss Lara, thank you for letting tag along with the Prince’s caravan." A young rchant, freshly dismounted from his carriage, approached the Norse siblings. His eyes shone with earnest gratitude. The wary glares from the n nearby did little to dampen his spirits. He directed his words solely to Lara, his posture stiff but respectful.
Lara’s lips curved into a gentle smile. "It is not a problem at all, Bernard. In the end, I was the one who benefited. I found a partner." Her tone was warm, and her eyes sparkled with the hint of opportunity.
During their journey together, along the winding roads and bustling trade posts, Lara had shared with Bernard samples of Gabriella’s handiwork: sturdy backpacks and finely crafted travel bags. Bernard had examined each one with the keen eye of a rchant, testing seams and admiring the craftsmanship. His enthusiasm was undeniable, and by the ti they reached the city gates, he had eagerly purchased every piece Lara had to offer.
"Find in Calma in two months," Lara said.
Bernard nodded eagerly, his face alight with anticipation. With a final wave, he returned to his carriage, waiting his turn to enter the gates.
When the brothers heard that she would return to Calma, they exchanged uneasy glances. Doubt flickered in their eyes. Did Lara not intend to stay? Did she an to leave them behind?
Alaric approached the siblings and broke the silence, "Take care, Lara," he murmured. "I’ll visit you at the General’s manor once my business is done." His voice was calm, but there was an edge of reluctance in his tone.
anwhile, Percival wasted no ti. He mounted a horse with practiced ease, the leather of the saddle creaking beneath him. With a brief nod, he set off ahead of the caravan to deliver the news to the Norse residence—Lara would be arriving with Bener and Gideon.
The journey continued, the carriage that carried Lara and Sandoz rumbling steadily along the cobblestone path. As they passed through the southern city gate, the sun started its descent in the west. Shadows stretched long across the road, and a chill crept into the air.
Beside her, Sandoz sat silently, his gaze fixed on the window, eyes tracing the stone walls and bustling figures beyond. His shoulders slumped, and his hands fidgeted restlessly in his lap. He spoke not a word, and the gloom that surrounded him was unmistakable.
Lara’s gaze softened as she reached out, her hand slipping over his. She gave it a gentle squeeze. "Tell if they bully you," she said softly, her voice carrying a note of fierce protectiveness. "I will take you back."
Her words seed to break sothing within the little boy. Sandoz turned to face her, his eyes brimming with unspoken fear and longing. His voice trembled as he whispered, "Sister, I want to stay with you." Each word was heavy with raw emotion, his small hands clutching hers desperately, as if afraid she might vanish the mont he let go. His eyes shimred with tears, the delicate line between bravery and heartbreak clear in his gaze.
Lara’s expression softened further, her fingers brushing away the tears that spilled over his cheeks. "Little Bro," she murmured gently, tousling his hair with familiar affection. "They are your family. Don’t worry... I will always be your sister." Her voice held firm, a tether of comfort amidst the uncertainty.
She cupped his face, her thumbs brushing away the remnants of his tears. "Think of your mother," she added gently. "And besides, when your father knows you are a boy, he will be happy." Her words were ant to reassure, to bind the fragile threads of his courage back together.
Sandoz sniffed, his eyes still glistening but his shoulders a little straighter. He held onto her hand a mont longer, his grip tight and unyielding, before finally letting go with a reluctant nod.
Outside the carriage window, the city sprawled ahead, vaguely familiar and vast—but Lara’s words lingered, a quiet promise that soothed the ache in his heart.
As the carriage rolled closer to the General’s Manor, Reya’s excitent climbed to an exhilarating peak. Her eyes sparkled, and she couldn’t contain her enthusiasm.
"Miss, that’s your best friend’s house. You often spend Saturday afternoons with her."
"Friend?" Lara’s eyes brightened.
"Oh yeah. I forgot to tell you. Her na is Alia."
Lara humd and craned her neck to glimpse the brick house.
So, she had a friend. Alia seed a nice na.
After they turned a corner, they arrived at a huge house. There were carriages parked outside, and the house seed lively.
"Miss, could it be that they have prepared a welco party for you?" Reya chirped happily.
Before Lara could reply, Bener’s emotional voice was heard.
"Sis, we have arrived." He lifted the curtain and waited for Lara to get off the carriage.
Beside him was Gideon, equally excited to be her escort.
Lara got off the carriage.
She was wearing an erald green maxi sundress that reached her ankles. The dress, with its soft, delicate fabric, hugged her figure lightly, while wide sleeves cascaded down to cover three-quarters of her arms, leaving her slender lower arms bare. The square neckline, adorned with a trim of exquisite white lace, frad her collarbone beautifully, lending an air of sophistication to her look as she erged into the world. As usual, half of her hair from the front was braided and pulled back, then tied with a green ribbon that matched her dress.
Reya had insisted that she wear that dress so her mother would not be too shocked at their first eting with her sense of fashion.
With Bener and Gideon flanking her, they entered through the iron gate.
Lara paused.
A swirl of emotion engulfed her, and without her knowing, tears pooled at the corners of her eyes.
There, in front of a half-open enormous wooden double door of the big manor, stood six people. Her four brothers were holding colorful flowers that seed to have just been cut from the garden, while General Odin and a beautiful woman whose hair, visage, and lips were similar to hers held a wide parchnt with the words, "Welco Ho, Lara. We missed you!" printed on it.
Bener nudged Lara gently, but she stood rooted to the spot, her eyes fixed on the group of people ahead. Her breath hitched, and her hands trembled at her sides as mories crashed over her—unbidden and unrelenting.
Every hocoming had been the sa: the anticipation that made her footsteps light, the flutter of excitent in her chest. But always, without fail, she would find the house dark and empty. No warm laughter spilling from the windows, no one waiting to welco her back, no food on the table.
But she never stopped coming ho, and she never stopped hoping ... and wishing... that one day, on one of her hocomings, she would find her family waiting for her at the door.
Her wish ca true.
Tears fell from her eyes like the torrents in August. She was no longer Lara Starr. She was Lara Norse.
And she found her family.
With shaking legs, she took a step forward, tentative at first, then she broke into a run and threw herself into the gentle arms that opened wide to receive her.
"Mother!"
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