Chapter 20: The Night Before Departure
The Loyal Shadow
The carriage rolled smoothly along the cobblestone path leading to Sylvara's estate, its lanterns casting a golden glow against the evening mist. The night was still, save for the gentle rustling of leaves in the distant gardens
At the grand entrance, a lone figure stood waiting.
Elysia, Sylvara's most trusted servant, straightened her posture as the carriage approached. Her sharp eyes, lined with years of unwavering loyalty, flickered with concern.
The moonlight illuminated her dark curls, neatly pinned back, and the deep blue fabric of her uniform—a symbol of her station as Sylvara's personal attendant.
The moment the carriage halted, she moved forward with practiced grace, opening the door swiftly.
"Welcome back, my lady," Elysia said, bowing respectfully. "And young master Kitsaro."
She barely had time to process their return when her gaze fell upon the striking sight before her—Sylvara, regal as ever, stepping out of the carriage with her silver tails billowing behind her. The moonlight caught their silken sheen, an ethereal glow weaving through the night.
Elysia gasped, her breath hitching in sheer shock. "M-My lady, your—"
Sylvara gave her a measured look, her golden eyes unreadable. "Never mind it," she said coolly, as if the presence of her beastification was of no consequence. "Help Kitsaro down."
Snapping out of her daze, Elysia immediately obeyed, reaching out for the small boy who was peering down from the carriage with bright, inquisitive eyes. Kitsaro allowed her to lift him down, his small hands gripping her sleeve momentarily before he landed with a soft thud on the stone pavement.
He beamed up at her. "Elysia! We went to Father's house today!"
Elysia gave a warm, patient smile. "Did you now?"
"Yes! And I made friends too!" Kitsaro announced proudly, puffing out his tiny chest.
"They were all staring at me and wanted to play!"
Sylvara, standing beside him, let out a quiet breath—a mixture of amusement and resignation.
Elysia crouched down slightly, her eyes softening. "Of course, they did, young master. Who wouldn't want to be friends with you? You're quite the adorable little lord."
Kitsaro grinned, crossing his arms. "Obviously! I'm also strong, so they should feel lucky."
Sylvara chuckled, ruffling his hair lightly. "Alright, little fox. Go inside and wait for me while I get ready."
Kitsaro nodded eagerly before rushing toward the grand estate doors, his small form vanishing into the warmly lit halls.
Elysia, after watching him disappear inside, finally turned back to Sylvara, her expression shifting into something more serious. "My lady… if I may be bold, what happened tonight?"
Sylvara exhaled slowly, the weight of the evening pressing upon her shoulders. She turned her golden gaze to the darkened sky for a moment before murmuring, "Nothing that wasn't inevitable."
Elysia hesitated, glancing at the silver tails once more. "And… this?"
Sylvara's expression remained impassive. "A reminder."
Elysia's brows furrowed, concern deepening. But she knew better than to pry.
Instead, she stepped aside, bowing slightly. "Would you like me to prepare tea in your study?"
"Yes," Sylvara replied. "And send word to Cassian in the morning. He will be handling the arrangements for our estate."
Elysia straightened. "Then… it's truly decided?"
Sylvara's lips pressed into a thin line. "Yes."
Elysia studied her for a moment, then inclined her head. "Understood, my lady."
Kitsaro waited in the grand sitting room, swinging his legs over the edge of an oversized velvet chair. The estate was spacious, filled with elegant decor that exuded wealth and refinement.
He huffed impatiently. "Mother is taking too long."
A soft chuckle sounded from behind him.
He turned to see Elysia approaching, carrying a small tray with a porcelain cup of warm milk.
"Here," she said, placing it before him. "Something sweet to tide you over."
Kitsaro picked up the cup, sniffing it curiously before taking a sip. "Mmm… I guess I can forgive Mother for making me wait."
Elysia hid her smile behind her hand. "Very gracious of you, young master."
As he continued drinking, Elysia sat beside him, studying him thoughtfully. Despite his cheerful demeanor, there was an unmistakable sharpness in his gaze—something far too mature for a child his age.
"My lady seems tired tonight," Elysia remarked after a moment.
Kitsaro's expression faltered slightly. He lowered his cup. "She smiled less today."
Elysia nodded. "That happens sometimes. But she'll be fine, young master."
Kitsaro frowned. "I don't want her to be sad."
Elysia reached out, brushing a stray strand of dark hair from his forehead. "Then stay by her side. That will be enough."
Kitsaro mulled over her words before nodding. "I will."
Sylvara stood by the tall windows of her study, gazing out into the night. Her reflection, illuminated by the flickering candlelight, stared back at her with unreadable eyes.
The estate felt different tonight. Lighter, perhaps.
A knock sounded at the door.
"Enter," she said.
Elysia stepped inside, bowing slightly. "The tea is ready, my lady."
Sylvara nodded, motioning for her to set it down on the polished mahogany desk.
As Elysia poured the fragrant liquid into a delicate porcelain cup, she hesitated. "You've truly decided to leave House Vaelthyr behind."
Sylvara did not answer immediately. Instead, she took the cup, inhaling the soothing aroma before taking a sip.
Then, finally, she spoke.
"This was long overdue."
Elysia studied her. "Will council approve of this?"
Sylvara let out a quiet laugh. "The council has never approved of me."
Elysia's lips twitched, but her expression remained serious. "And… Lord Zephiron?"
Sylvara's hand tightened slightly around the cup.
"He will not stop me," she said firmly.
Elysia observed her mistress for a long moment before sighing. "Then I shall begin preparing everything for your transition."
"Good." Sylvara placed the cup down and turned fully to face her. "Once Cassian sends word, we leave immediately."
Elysia inclined her head. "Understood, my lady."
She paused before adding, "And the young master? Does he know?"
Sylvara's gaze softened. "Yes, he already knows and is very much pleased about it."
Elysia nodded, though a hint of worry lingered in her eyes. "Very well."
The candlelight flickered softly in the study, casting warm golden hues against the dark wood of the furniture. The faint scent of tea and parchment lingered in the air, mixing with the crisp night breeze that seeped through the slightly open window.
Elysia stood beside the desk, her posture straight but attentive, awaiting any further instructions. Her sharp eyes observed her mistress, taking in the way Sylvara's shoulders carried a quiet weight—one that had been building long before tonight.
Sylvara took another sip of her tea before finally speaking. "Elysia."
Elysia immediately straightened. "Yes, my lady?"
Sylvara set the delicate porcelain cup down with a soft clink, her golden eyes lifting to meet Elysia's gaze. There was a rare moment of pause, as if she were weighing her words carefully.
"…Will you come with me?"
Elysia blinked. The question caught her off guard, despite the many years she had served Sylvara. She had followed her mistress through every storm, every silent battle fought behind the gilded walls of noble society. But this… this was different. This wasn't just another duty—it was a choice.
Elysia hesitated, her hands tightening slightly against the fabric of her uniform. "My lady… you would allow me such a choice?"
Sylvara's gaze softened, but only slightly. "I have always trusted your loyalty, Elysia. And I trust your judgment as well." A pause. "If you do not wish to leave, I will ensure that you are given a proper position within House Vaelthyr. You will not be left without security."
Elysia exhaled quietly, absorbing those words. It wasn't just an offer—it was a promise. A way to let her go if she wished, without the burden of uncertainty. It was Sylvara's way of caring, even when she did not say it outright.
But the answer was already clear in Elysia's mind.
"My lady," she said, her voice steady, "I have served you not because I was bound by duty, but because I chose to." She met Sylvara's gaze firmly. "And I choose to follow you still."
For the briefest moment, something in Sylvara's expression shifted—a flicker of something unreadable, perhaps relief, perhaps quiet gratitude.
"…Then prepare yourself," Sylvara finally said. "This is no longer the house we will call home."
Elysia inclined her head in a deep bow, but there was a faint smile at the corners of her lips. "Understood, my lady."
The decision had been made.
And no matter where Sylvara went, Elysia would always be her shadow.
" I shall depart now my lady." She said as she turned to leave, Sylvara's voice stopped her.
"Elysia."
She turned back.
Sylvara met her gaze, her golden eyes steady. "Thank you."
Elysia blinked, caught off guard. Then she smiled, bowing deeply. "It is my honor, my lady."
With that, she exited the study, leaving Sylvara alone in the quiet night.
Sylvara exhaled, closing her eyes for a brief moment.
"I'll make sure to handle everything tomorrow." She whispered to herself while peering at the moonlight her golden eyes flashing.
~~~~~
The warmth of the milk lingered on Kitsaro's tongue as he sat curled up in one of the grand estate's velvet chairs. His small fingers wrapped around the porcelain cup Elysia had given him, and he lazily swung his legs, enjoying the taste.
He had been waiting. Waiting for Mother to finish speaking with Elysia.
And when he noticed that she had gone into her study, Kitsaro—ever so curious—slipped off the chair and quietly padded across the hall, his small footsteps barely making a sound against the polished marble floors.
The doors to the study weren't fully shut. A slight gap remained, just wide enough for him to peer through. The flickering candlelight cast long shadows across the room, illuminating both his mother and Elysia, who stood before her desk.
Kitsaro pressed his back to the wall, just beside the doorway, his pointed ears twitching as he listened in.
"…Will you come with me?"
Kitsaro blinked in surprise. He had expected Mother to give Elysia orders, maybe something about the estate or their departure. But this… was different.
"…If you do not wish to leave, I will ensure that you are given a proper position within House Vaelthyr."
At that moment, Kitsaro's lips curled into a pleased smirk. So, it's really happening.
He took another sip of his milk, the creamy warmth settling in his stomach as he listened further.
Elysia was hesitating, but only briefly. Then she answered.
"I choose to follow you still."
Keh, Kitsaro thought smugly. Of course she would. She's not stupid.
Staying in this estate—this prison-like, suffocating place—would be the worst decision imaginable.
He had known it from the start. This estate which was given to them was cold, unwelcoming, and filled with people who barely looked at him, as if he didn't belong.
Even his father, that arrogant, self-important Duke, had barely acknowledged him.
Well, good. Kitsaro had no interest in seeking his approval.
Leaving this place was the right decision.
Why would they waste time in a house destined to crumble? Staying here would be stupid. As a person who know of this houses fate, House Vaelthyr would fall, one way or another. Kitsaro wasn't sure when, but he was sure of one thing—he wouldn't be here when it happened.
He took another slow sip, savoring the thought. Hmph. Serves him right.
His father didn't deserve his mother. And soon, neither of them would have to deal with him anymore.
Just as he was considering sneaking another look, he heard the faintest sound of movement—footsteps approaching the door.
Kitsaro's ears perked up in alarm.
Time to go!
He swiftly spun on his heels, dashing back down the hallway with practiced agility. His small form vanished around a corner just as the study doors creaked open.
Heart racing slightly—not from fear, but from the thrill—Kitsaro finally reached his room. He hopped onto his bed, tilting the porcelain cup to drink the last of his milk.
As he set the empty cup down on his bedside table, he exhaled with satisfaction.
Tomorrow, he thought, I hope everything is settled so we can leave as soon as possible.
A wicked grin tugged at his lips as he nestled under his blankets.
Finally…
Freedom.