Ezekiel stepped off the carriage, his boots crunching against the snow-covered driveway of the Malverne estate. The crisp winter air carried the scent of pine and distant fireplaces, marking the heart of the season. As he took in the sight of his home, a sense of familiarity washed over him—one he hadn't realized he missed until now.
From the grand entrance, a butler approached swiftly, bowing his head. "Welcome home, Young Lord."
Ezekiel gave a small nod, adjusting his coat. "Where's my father?"
"In his study, my lord. He has been expecting you."
Ezekiel sighed, already knowing what this meant. He had received his father's letter before leaving France, a subtle yet undeniable command that they would be having a discussion regarding the… situation with Fleur.
Bracing himself, he stepped inside, the warmth of the estate wrapping around him like a long-lost embrace.
---
Thomas Malverne sat behind his grand oak desk, the candlelight casting shadows across his face as he read over a parchment. He barely looked up when Ezekiel entered, but his lips twitched in a knowing smirk.
"So, France," Thomas mused, setting the parchment aside. "I trust it was… enlightening?"
Ezekiel exhaled, stepping forward. "You could say that."
Thomas leaned back in his chair, studying his son with sharp, assessing eyes. "You met with Fleur Delacour privately." It wasn't a question.
Ezekiel took the seat across from him, unbothered by his father's insight. "I did."
Thomas folded his hands together, his expression unreadable. "And?"
Ezekiel hesitated, knowing that sugarcoating the truth would be pointless. "There's a bond. Something between our magic."
His father's eyes narrowed slightly, considering. "A Veela bond, then."
Ezekiel nodded.
Thomas let out a slow breath, tapping his fingers against the desk. "Such bonds are rare, but they are not unheard of." His gaze sharpened. "What do you intend to do about it?"
Ezekiel met his father's stare evenly. "I told her we'd take things slowly. Neither of us are going to rush into anything just because of a bond."
His father studied him for a long moment before nodding. "Good. Bonds of this nature can be powerful, but they do not determine everything. You are still young, Ezekiel. You have responsibilities—to your name, to your future."
Ezekiel had expected this. "And what do you suggest?"
Thomas smirked slightly. "For now, nothing. But be aware that the Delacours will not ignore this. Whether or not you act on the bond, they will be… watching."
Ezekiel chuckled dryly. "Wonderful."
Thomas leaned forward, his tone serious. "You are growing, Ezekiel. Your influence is spreading, and your name carries weight. You must be careful who you allow close to you."
Ezekiel understood the message. Fleur, whatever their bond meant, was not just a girl he could ignore. Their connection—whether by fate or coincidence—could shape his future in ways he had yet to fully comprehend.
"I understand," Ezekiel said.
Thomas watched him for another moment before nodding. "Good. Now, go. Your sisters will want to see you."
Ezekiel didn't need to be told twice.
---
Ezekiel barely had time to step out of the study before a blur of silver and dark brown hair barreled into him.
"Celes—!"
The small girl practically tackled him, her arms wrapping around his waist as she buried her face into his chest. "You're back!"
Alys followed behind, more composed but with a pleased smile. "Took you long enough."
Ezekiel chuckled, ruffling Celes' hair. "I was only gone for a short while."
"Too long," Celes huffed, pulling back with a pout. "You promised we'd spend more time together this break!"
Alys smirked. "She's been waiting by the window all day."
Ezekiel raised a brow. "Have you now?"
Celes flushed, crossing her arms. "…Maybe."
A warmth spread through him. No matter what else was happening, he always found comfort in their presence.
"Alright," he said, ruffling her hair again. "I did promise, didn't I? What do you want to do first?"
Celes beamed. "Sweets! Let's go to the kitchens!"
Alys rolled her eyes. "You're going to spoil her."
Ezekiel just smirked. "That's the plan."
As Celes dragged him toward the kitchens, Alys followed with an exasperated sigh. Despite everything—bonds, politics, responsibilities—this was home. And for now, that was enough.
---