Chapter 406 Chapter 406| Two Months Without A Word

?In the Iron Empire, Emperor Regulus sat alone in his throne hall, his mind lingering on an overly audacious diplomat.

?But far to the south, across the Sea of Mists, no one in Northreach knew any of this.

?They only knew one thing: two months had passed without a word.

?Queen Aurelia stood alone at the edge of a stone pond in the courtyard garden of Iron Hearth Castle.

?The water mirrored the gray sky above. In the distance, soldiers trained, their shouted commands muffled and broken by the cold northern wind carrying the sharp scent of pine.

?She wore a simple, neutral-toned gown, a hand-knitted shawl draped over her shoulders. Her black hair, lightly silvered at the temples, was neatly pinned up as always. Her posture remained upright and regal. Only her eyes betrayed her—still warm, but shadowed with deep fatigue.

?Sixty days.

?She counted them every morning, almost unconsciously. Sixty days since she stood at the harbor, waving goodbye to her four children as they boarded the ship. Riven. Rianor. Roland. Rumina.

?She still remembered Rumina looking back one last time, offering a subtle smile as if it were just another routine official trip.

?And Riven, who said nothing, only patting her shoulder once.

?Soft footsteps approached from behind. A young maid drew near carrying a tray, holding a cup of tea that had long ceased steaming.

?"Your Majesty, your tea has gone cold. Shall I prepare a fresh cup?"

?Aurelia shook her head softly. "Any news?"

?"Not yet, Your Majesty."

?The exact same answer as yesterday. And the day before that.

?Every day someone asked her for updates, and every day she had to answer calmly, as if she weren’t anxiously waiting herself.

?Aurelia turned her gaze back to the pond. Previous missions were never like this. Luminara, Draconia, the Khanate—there was always news, whether by telegraph or courier. This time, there was absolute silence.

?"Usually, something always gets through," she said softly. "This time, nothing."

?The maid didn’t know how to respond. She lowered her head, gripping her tray tighter, terrified of saying the wrong thing in front of her queen.

?"Leave me for a moment," Aurelia said gently.

?The maid nodded and withdrew.

?Aurelia gazed northward, toward the sea unseen from the garden. She thought of her four children, one by one, in silent yearning.

?Her other three children were still home, and for that she was grateful. Yet gratitude alone could not fill the empty chairs at the dining table.

?Only a suffocating weight pressed against her chest, and she had no one to share it with.

?As night approached, the fireplace in King Lucian’s study burned brightly. The gray sky outside the window had darkened enough for the servants to light the lamps early.

?Lucian stood before his large desk, leaning his palms flat against its wooden edge.

?Beneath him lay a worn continental map of Aethel-Terra, crisscrossed with red and black lines—shipping routes, last known positions, and unconfirmed sectors. He had erased and redrawn some of the lines so many times that the parchment was wearing thin. A foot-high stack of reports sat piled on the side of the desk.

?His thick, graying hair was slicked back. His dark gray mantle bore no ornaments. His rigid military posture remained unchanged, but the lines etched into his face had deepened far beyond what they were two months ago.

?The last report from the NRS Orion was dated forty days ago. Relay towers: silent. Couriers sent: not a single one had returned.

?He had read every single report countless times. Not a sentence had changed.

?From his study window, he had caught sight of his wife standing alone by the pond earlier. For a long, motionless time. He hadn’t gone down to join her. He knew that if he did, he would have no answers to give.

?"Your Majesty."

?Grimm stood at the threshold, his aged hands folded neatly in front of him. "Dinner is served."

?"Any word?" Lucian asked without looking up.

?"Not yet, Your Majesty."

?Lucian tapped the map with a single finger in a slow, rhythmic cadence—an old habit whenever his mind worked like it was on the battlefield.

?He was the one who decided to send four of his children to the Iron Empire.

?He was the one who signed the authorization. He was the one who saw them off. And every night since, he replayed that decision in his mind, searching for any detail he might have missed.

?"You had no other choice," Grimm said softly. "We all know that."

?"I know." Lucian finally turned around. "But understanding the reasons doesn’t make the weight any lighter."

?Grimm didn’t argue. The old retainer had served the family long enough to know when some truths were better left untouched.

?"What will you do?"

?Lucian looked back at the map. His finger stopped on a single coordinate—the last known location of the NRS Orion, docked at the Iron Empire’s port.

?"Summon Kaelen," he ordered.

?At that same moment, at Seruni Academy, the final afternoon bell had already rung. Yet the faculty lounge remained warmly lit.

?Elara sat in her custom Arcanotech wheelchair by the window overlooking the main gate. Her vibrant crimson hair was loosely bound, her purple eyes gazing outside. Her complexion was paler than usual. The physical toll of her pregnancy was beginning to weigh on her, and her mind was never truly at ease.

?An open book rested on her lap. She hadn’t turned a single page in an hour.

?Her hand rested gently over the soft swell of her stomach beneath her simple dress. Rianor had left before he could see it grow like this.

?Sometimes she pictured Rianor returning, standing in the doorway, and immediately calculating numbers in his head—gestational age, vitamin dosages, or whatever else was on his mind. The thought nearly brought a smile to her face.

?Almost.

?Across the room, Sera was grading a stack of exam papers, shooting occasional glances toward Elara.

?"Shall I escort you home, Lady Elara?" she finally asked.

?"In a moment," Elara replied. "I just want to stay here a little longer."

?"Any news?"

?Elara shook her head.

?Sera asked no further questions. She had worked with Elara long enough to recognize when inquiries only added to the burden.

?A moment later, the door creaked open. Raveena stepped inside, her dark hair tied up haphazardly, clutching her magic spellbook tightly against her chest like a shield. A braided leather bracelet adorned with a pale blue gem clasped her left wrist.

?Caelus stood at the threshold, refraining from stepping inside.

?"Are your classes done?" Sera asked.

?Raveena gave a brief nod.

?She sank into a corner chair in silence. Elara watched her for a moment. Her sister-in-law was waiting too, just like her, only in a far quieter manner.

?Caelus finally stepped inside. His blonde hair was slightly disheveled, fresh from teaching an etiquette class. He sat down beside Raveena and silently took her hand in his.

?Raveena didn’t pull away. She sat quietly, squeezing his fingers in return—firmly, yet without a word.

?Sera set her pen down. She could feel the heavy atmosphere weighing down the room, despite not being a member of the family herself.

?"Is there anything I can do to help?"

?"No, thank you," Elara answered, offering a gentle yet polite refusal.

?Sera nodded, straightened the exam sheets, and walked out.

?Before the door clicked shut, Elara spoke softly without turning from the window, "Rianor must just be busy."

?Raveena gave no response.

?Kaelen arrived less than ten minutes after being summoned.

?He stood at attention before Lucian’s desk. His dark leather aviator jacket was glistening slightly from the drizzle, the silver eagle crest gleaming on his chest, his leather flight gloves still on his hands.

?He offered a crisp salute.

?Lucian studied him for a long moment. He recalled the man’s years of dedicated service—from the darkest days in Northveil to this very moment—always quiet, never asking for anything in return.

?"How long to reach the Iron Empire?"

?"Four days, Your Majesty. Three if the weather holds."

?Lucian nodded, pointing to the map. "Ready three Sky-Hunter units. Skeleton crews. Just enough ammunition to defend yourselves."

?Kaelen didn’t ask why. He had anticipated this the moment he received the summon. All of Northreach had anticipated it; they just hadn’t dared to say it out loud yet.

?"Your mission is to find out what happened," Lucian continued. "Whether they are alive. Whether they need aid. And if necessary, bring them home."

?Kaelen nodded.

?"No grand force. If I deploy an armada, the Iron Empire will view it as an invasion."

?"And if things are dire," Kaelen added softly, finishing the thought, "we will do whatever it takes to extract them."

?Lucian held his gaze for a long moment, then gave a single nod.

?"Depart tomorrow at dawn."

?Kaelen saluted once more and withdrew.

?Late into the night, Aurelia stood on her balcony, her fingers gripping the icy stone balustrade. Her hand-knitted shawl had been replaced by a simple nightgown, yet the biting northern wind still chilled her to the bone.

?From the upper floor of the castle, the city of Iron Hearth stretched out in the distance, its lights flickering like fallen stars scattered across the earth. Below, spotlights illuminated the airfield. Three Sky-Hunters were already lined up on the tarmac. Kaelen and his crew appeared miniature from this height, meticulously inspecting the rotors and cargo.

?Aurelia knew what it meant. She didn’t need to be told.

?Two months without a word. She had no idea if her children were still alive. Whether they were safe, sharing a meal together, wounded, or fighting for survival in some unreachable place.

?She only knew one thing: she could no longer stand idly by.

?Silent in her heart, she whispered their names one by one. Riven. Rianor. Roland. Rumina.

?Tears fell, tracing the lined corners of her cheeks. She didn’t wipe them away. She closed her eyes, letting the night wind carry her remaining prayers toward the north.

?Down below, the engine of the first Sky-Hunter roared to life. A low, steady hum echoed from the tarmac, its vibrations reverberating through the balcony railing beneath her hands.

?Inside his study, Lucian still stood before the map. He hadn’t eaten dinner. He hadn’t slept. He simply made a silent vow—if his children could not return on their own, he would bring them home, whatever it took.

?The night wore on. Technicians continued laboring under the bright glare of floodlights—refueling, checking rotors, loading munitions. No one complained about the hour. No one asked why they were ordered to move with such urgency.

?The Sky-Hunters would take flight at dawn.