"Brother Philia!"
The sharp, high-pitched shout cut through the quiet rustle of the surrounding forest before the grand carriage had even come to a complete stop.
As the heavy iron wheels ground to a halt against the packed dirt drive, a flood of small bodies spilled out from the main arched entrance of the stone compound. Children of all ages, some wearing faded aprons, others with scuffed leather shoes, came sprinting down the grassy slope, their faces lit up with joy.
Valen stepped out of the coach first, holding the brass-handled door wide open and extending a steady hand. Philia stepped down onto the carriage block, his pale blue velvet coat catching the soft afternoon light.
Before his boots even hit the grass, three young orphans threw themselves against his legs, wrapping their arms around his waist with eager, unpolished enthusiasm.
"You really came!" a little girl with messy brown braids squeaked, burying her face into the fine fabric of Philia’s coat. "Auntie Nora said you were too busy at the palace, but I knew you’d come!"
Philia didn’t flinch or step back from the dusty embraces. He immediately melted into a warm, gentle posture, crouching down on the grass so he was at eye level with the younger ones. A radiant spread across his face as he wrapped his arms around two of the smaller boys, lightly ruffling their hair.
"I promised I would visit, didn’t I?" Philia said softly, his voice smooth and full of fond warmth. "I would never forget about my family at Havenwood."
At the top of the stone steps, a tall, older woman in a simple grey habit wiped her hands on her apron and hurried down to meet them. Auntie Nora, the head caretaker of the orphanage, looked flustered but deeply moved, her lined face creasing into a wide, grateful smile as she bowed her head.
"Lord Philia, bless you," Nora gasped, coming to a stop as the children continued to buzz around him like excited bees. "We thought you would be far too busy with high society and palace matters to visit a place like this..."
"No duty is more important than coming home, Auntie," Philia said gently, standing up and smoothing down his sleeves. He turned toward the back of the carriage where the footmen and guards were already unbuckling the heavy leather straps securing the baggage racks.
Valen stepped forward, gesturing toward the heavy wooden trunks being unloaded. "We brought clothes, some money, medicine, and toys for the children."
Nora clutched her hands over her chest, her eyes glistening with genuine tears. "The Crown’s generosity is overwhelming. Ever since Prince Yerel first brought you to court, this place has wanted for nothing. We pray for His Highness and for you every single night, Lord Philia."
"His Highness cares deeply for Havenwood," Philia replied smoothly, offering a humble, modest nod. "He sends his warmest regards. He wanted to accompany me today, but the King’s business kept him trapped in the council chambers."
A small boy with a smudge of dirt across his nose tugged hard on the hem of Philia’s sleeve, peeking around his side toward the empty carriage. He pouted slightly, looking back up."Brother Prince didn’t come? He promised he’d show me his silver sword last time!"
"Now then, Jamie, don’t be ungrateful," Nora scolded gently, shaking her head. "His Highness has an entire empire to look after so that children like you can grow up in peace and safety. He is a very busy man."
"It’s alright, Auntie," Philia chuckled, kneeling back down to pinch the young boy’s cheek affectionately. "He was very sad to miss this trip, Jamie. But I am here, and Valen brought the big books with the colorful maps we didn’t finish last time."
Valen chimed in with a bright, friendly grin, patting his leather travel bag. "That’s right! And I might have snuck a few tins of sweet almond candy from the palace kitchens into my sack, too."
The children let out a collective, high-pitched cheer, crowding around Valen as he made a dramatic show of slinging the bag over his shoulder and walking toward the main hall doors.
"Brother Philia, are you staying the night?" a young girl asked, clinging tightly to his hand as they slowly began walking toward the main stone building. "Will you read to us by the fireplace like you used to?"
"Of course I am staying," Philia said, his eyes crinkling with sweet affection as he squeezed her small fingers. "I’m staying until tomorrow morning. We have plenty of time."
The courtyard was a flurry of warm, noisy activity. Servants and older teenage orphans worked together to haul the heavy supply crates through the double wooden doors of the storeroom, while the younger kids paraded around Philia, chattering endlessly about their daily chores, the new garden patch, and the puppies born down at the local mill.
Philia listened to every word with patient attention. He laughed at their silly jokes, praised their drawings, and nodded along to Nora’s endless updates about the roof repairs that the Crown’s gold had funded earlier that spring.
To anyone watching from the perimeter wall, it was a picture of absolute, saintly perfection. Philia was the orphan boy who had risen to the absolute pinnacle of high society, yet never forgot the humble, dusty haven that had taken him in when he had nothing.
Philia stood near the heavy wooden doors of the main hall, watching the kids file inside, their energetic laughter echoing through the tall stone corridors.
Valen stepped up beside him, his voice dropping into a barely audible whisper. "Your personal belongings have been placed in your room, My Lord."
Philia gave a faint nod, his gentle smile remaining perfectly in place as he watched the children chatter over their food. He didn’t move until the heavy wooden doors swung fully shut, cutting off the noise and plunging the hallway into cool shadow.
But as the doors slowly swung shut, the gentle smile on his face settled into something far more quiet and intense.
He softly smoothed the cuff of his pale blue coat, taking a slow, steady breath.
Seeing them safe, fed, and laughing, that was everything. He remembered too clearly what it felt like to freeze in these very halls, to go to bed with a hollow ache in his stomach before Yerel had extended a hand and pulled him out of the cold.
Yerel had given him the power to protect this place. He had given him title, security, and the standing needed to make sure these children never had to suffer the way he once did. Havenwood was his home, and he would do whatever it took to keep its doors open and safe.
And Philia would burn the entire realm to the ground before he let Cherion, or anyone else, drag him back down into the dirt.
Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!
Use arrow keys (or A / D) to PREV/NEXT chapter
