Sharing a space was bad enough, but now they were trapped in the same carriage, headed for the same house. Kirine squeezed into a corner, her face etched with sullenness. Ares practically glued himself to the opposite wall.
“This carriage is a nightmare,” he grumbled, arms crossed in frustration. “Can’t you just teleport us with your magic?”
Kirine didn’t even dignify his obvious attempt to rile her with a laugh. “Unregulated teleportation is strictly forbidden. If you don’t know something, silence is a virtue, you ignorant buffoon.”
In truth, teleportation was within her capabilities, but using it recklessly in unfamiliar territory was unwise.
Ares, however, wasn’t finished. He continued to whine about her magical abilities, even suggesting she abandon them altogether. The constant clicking of his tongue made her want to sew his mouth shut. Barely containing her murderous urge, Kirine forced a calm tone.
“Why don’t we both tell our parents about the divorce?”
“Fine,” Ares conceded. “But make sure you convince yours. I wouldn’t want any complications.”
My parents are dead,” Kirine revealed, her voice tight. Her father, consumed by alcohol and gambling, had passed away first, followed soon after by her mother.
Ares fell silent, his face hardening with a mix of surprise and shame. The rest of the journey passed in an uncomfortable silence as they finally reached the imposing mansion.
***
“This is the house we live in together?”
Disgorging from the carriage, Kirine’s eyes widened at the sight before her. The mansion they supposedly shared was far grander than she’d anticipated, its imposing facade exuding an almost crushing sense of grandeur. Wealth, given their positions, she’d expected, but this opulent monstrosity was beyond imagination. Hesitantly, she approached the entrance.
“Didn’t they mention a guest?” Ares suddenly recalled, snapping Kirine from her stunned silence. She glanced at his profile, a memory flickering in her own mind.
“Right,” she confirmed, her voice barely above a whisper. “Could it be your parents?”
A shrug was Ares’s only reply. With a determined expression, he pushed open the massive door and strode inside. Kirine followed, attempting an air of nonchalance that felt increasingly forced with each echoing footstep down the long hallway.
A faint light emanating from the parlor at the far end drew their attention. Their steps slowed unconsciously as they exchanged a silent glance. This, it seemed, was the “important guest” the Emperor had alluded to.
“Hold on,” Kirine called out as Ares reached for the doorknob. He turned, a questioning eyebrow raised. “Don’t forget to mention the divorce. Make sure your parents understand.”
“Leave it to me,” Ares replied with a nod, pushing the door open.
Confusion clouded their faces as the interior came into view. Ares’ parents hadn’t been mentioned, but a far more bizarre sight greeted them.
“A doll?” Kirine blurted, blinking in disbelief. The figure, more lifelike than any doll they’d seen, stirred slightly, making delicate gestures with its tiny hands. Pale skin, long ash-gray hair, and captivating lavender eyes gave the child an ethereal quality. A powerful urge to protect the delicate creature welled up within Kirine.
“Who is this?” Ares echoed, his voice barely a whisper.
Before they could unravel the mystery, the seemingly inanimate child, sensing their arrival, slowly turned its head. Their eyes met.
Silence, thick and heavy, descended upon the parlor, the air itself seeming to hold its breath. After a tense moment, the child surprised them both by leaping to her feet and rushing straight for Ares.
“Daddy!” she cried, wrapping her tiny arms around his waist with a practiced ease.
Kirine, a bewildered observer, finally broke out of her shock with a humorless laugh. “So, I’m married to a man with a child?”
Despite the confusion about the marriage itself, a flicker of warmth ignited within her. Maybe this unexpected development wasn’t entirely unwelcome. After all, alimony could be a significant benefit.
Rubbing her chin thoughtfully, Kirine contemplated the possibility of claiming fraud. After all, she had entered the marriage completely unaware of the child. Perhaps an annulment was on the table.
“Maybe a fraudulent marriage…” she muttered, caught up in her scheming.
Suddenly, she felt a small hand tugging at her dress. The child, her gaze fixed on Kirine, abandoned Ares and ran towards her.
“Mommy!” she shrieked, throwing her tiny arms around Kirine’s legs. “I missed you so much, Mommy and Daddy!”
The child’s tearful outburst left Kirine and Ares rooted to the spot, their carefully constructed plans dissolving in the face of this unexpected development.