CHAPTER 26: THE REKINDLED BOND

Lorraine jerked her wrists free from Lysander’s grasp, her hands trembling as she stumbled back. Her mind spun with dread.

Was a blade destined for her neck? Or was a dagger to pierce her back? What was her brother planning?

Her knees buckled, the world blurring into a haze of shadows and lantern light. Fear twisted her stomach, a sharp ache that mirrored the years of rejection she’d endured.

Then, along with the gentle breeze, a soft cooing pierced the tension, like a melody in the night. A maid stepped forward, blocking the light, and Lorraine turned, her breath catching. In the maid’s arms was Lysander’s son. Her newborn nephew.

Lorraine’s heart stuttered as she met the baby’s gaze, a fragile hope flickering within her. Lysander smiled gently, lifting the child from the wet nurse with tender care. He stepped toward Lorraine, offering the bundle with a look that begged for trust.

She blinked, her mind reeling. What kind of trap was this?

Hesitant, she peeled off her gloves, her fingers brushing the cool night air, and held out her arms. Her brother placed the baby in her embrace, his small weight settling against her chest.

It was the first time Lorraine had held a child. No one had trusted her with one, her barren womb a silent shame after ten desolate years with Leroy. Her knees gave way, and she sank to the damp earth, cradling the infant close.

The lantern’s golden glow bathed the baby’s face, revealing misty blue eyes that were pure and gentle, like fresh snow crowning an unreachable peak. He stared at her with wide-eyed wonder, his innocence unraveling the knots in her soul. Precious. Pure. A bundle of joy. Tears prickled her eyes, a smile trembling on her lips.

"His name is Gareth," Lysander signed, his hands steady despite the emotion in his gaze. Lorraine nodded, a smile blooming from the depths of her heart. Holding this tiny life, this little joy that was light as a whisper yet heavy enough to alter the flow of her universe, her chest swelled with a joy she’d long forgotten.

Baby Gareth reached out, his chubby fingers grasping at the air until they tangled in her hair, pulling with a child’s strength. She caught his hand, those pink, cushiony digits soothing the scars etched across her heart. Her lips curved fully now, tears spilling as she marveled at him.

He looked like her mother. Of course, he was. He was her mother’s grandson. The realization struck her like a wave, a bittersweet tide of love and loss.

Lysander knelt before her, his hands resting on her shoulders with a gentleness she hadn’t known from him. She blinked, clutching Gareth closer, unwilling to let go. She knew she must, but dared to hope for a moment more, her arms tightening around the baby’s warmth.

Lysander’s hands shook as he signed, his eyes brimming with regret and a rare, tender affection that pierced her defenses. "Can you read my lips?" he asked, his voice low, half-signing as he spoke.

Lorraine nodded, her senses clouded by the baby’s soft breaths against her. She’d lay her head on the executioner’s block if it meant holding him longer. She truly was beyond herself. This vulnerability stunned her. This outpouring of emotion felt foreign, yet undeniable.

After the heartbreaks she faced earlier, this was like a soothing change. This flicker of happiness was so rare in her life that she thought she would die happy at that moment.

"Father should have invited you to his christening," Lysander began, his voice catching. He cleared his throat, his gaze dropping. "I should have stood firm. And..." He glanced around, exhaling a shaky breath, then pulled a small jar from his pocket. Lorraine squinted. It was salt, its grains glinting in the lamplight.

"Here," he said, his face resolute. "You are his aunt. You should have done this in our mother’s place."

Tears welled in her eyes, hot and unstoppable. In Vaeloria, the matriarch placed salt on a newborn’s tongue, a ritual of wisdom and protection. Without a mother, that honor fell to the aunt. That role was stolen from her when her father’s wife usurped it. Now, she had her chance.

Lorraine pinched the salt, its coarse texture biting her fingertips, and placed it on Gareth’s toothless gums. His face scrunched at the taste, a fleeting grimace before his tiny tongue lapped it up. The sight was breathtaking, and Lorraine’s sobs broke free, her arms wrapping around him. Lysander enveloped her in a hug, his hand rubbing her back in soothing circles, the warmth seeping through her chilled skin.

"I’ll find a way..." he whispered in her ear, his voice a trembling thread. "Soon, I’ll be in charge..." His body tensed, a storm of resolve beneath his words, his breath warm against her cheek.

Lorraine pulled back, searching his eyes. What did he mean?

A blink erased the intensity, and Lysander offered a gentle smile. His aura changed to gentleness. "You won’t be a curse for long, darling sister," he said, his tone soft yet firm.

Lorraine’s eyes widened. Was he plotting against their father? It sure sounded so. Her heart sank. She knew how dangerous it was. Even though Lysander was the sole heir after Elyse’s brother’s death, she wouldn’t put anything against her father. Her father loved holding power more than anything. For him, family meant nothing as long as he could hold power.

"I can’t stay long. Father will look for me," he added, his voice tight. Lorraine nodded, but as he reached for Gareth, she hesitated, pressing a tender kiss to the baby’s forehead, his skin soft as petals. This might be her last chance.

She stopped Lysander from leaving, her hands fumbling for a gift—a duty as an aunt she couldn’t shirk. He protested, but she insisted, knowing Elyse would discard any future offerings. She had nothing valuable, except for the aquamarine ring Leroy had given her, its blue stone a painful memory she’d guarded from Elyse.

With a steady hand, she slipped it onto Gareth’s chubby finger. He gripped it tightly, his tiny fist closing around the gem. Lysander smiled, nodding in acceptance.

Just then, a glint flashed from the tall grass, sharp as a blade’s edge. Lorraine gasped, stumbling back. Lysander, startled by her reaction, clutched Gareth to his chest, turning aside to see what startled her.

There...