Chapter 296: Negotiations?
The dining hall seemed to glow warmer after that — as if the very walls of Everhart Manor had accepted the name into its legacy.
Aria.
Adrian repeated the name in his heart, letting it settle like an oath upon his soul. She squirmed happily in his lap, kicking her small feet against his legs with boundless energy now that the storm of her tears had passed.
"Aria Everhart..." Adrian echoed aloud, feeling the name fit like it had always belonged to her. "A name worthy of a brave little girl like you."
Seraphina couldn't help the gentle smile tugging at her lips, her eyes unusually soft. She reached over to tuck a loose curl behind Aria's ear. "It suits you," she whispered.
Aria beamed at them both, her little chest puffed out proudly. "I'm Aria now!" she declared with childish glee, turning her bright eyes toward everyone else at the table. "Remember it!"
Chris giggled despite the weight of the morning. "Yes, yes! Lady Aria Everhart. We'll remember."
Sophia leaned back in her chair, a faint but genuine smile curving her lips. Yet behind her sharp gaze, a thoughtful look lingered — suspicion hadn't fully left her. But even she wasn't heartless enough to interrupt this moment.
Isabella, ever composed, sipped her tea gracefully as she watched the exchange. There was a rare fondness in her eyes — pride mixed with something more tender. But, being Isabella, she masked it quickly with her usual playful air.
"My, my," she purred. "Aria it is, then. Such a beautiful name for such a troublesome little girl."
Aria stuck her tongue out at her cheekily, causing a rare laugh to ripple around the table.
Adrian ruffled the girl's hair, warmth rising in his chest. "Alright, little Aria. Finish eating properly. Then be a good girl and play with the big sis Chrisitne and your other mothers, for a while and after papa finishes his work, papa will play with you okay?"
"Really?!" Her eyes sparkled brighter than any jewel. "Promise, Papa?"
He gave a solemn nod. "Promise."
But even as he spoke, his sharp mind remained tethered to duty. The moment was precious — but fleeting.
They still had work to do.
He cast his gaze down the table toward his battle-hardened companions. Their faces were calm, but their eyes betrayed their readiness — their desire to act.
Seraphina caught his look and gave a small nod.
Sophia set down her teacup with a faint clink. "We'll prepare," she said. "The cultists won't interrogate themselves."
Eve cracked her knuckles with a wolfish grin. "Oh, but I wouldn't mind volunteering to 'convince' them."
Isabella chuckled quietly, dabbing her lips with a cloth. "Do be careful, Eve. We wouldn't want to damage them too much... before they talk."
Adrian's eyes finally returned to Aria — the mysterious little girl he had become a father of. Her innocent joy, so fragile in their world of blood and duty, was something worth fighting for.
Something worth protecting.
"For Aria," he murmured under his breath, his resolve hardening like steel.
The clinking of cutlery gradually faded as the last remnants of breakfast were finished.
The warm family-like atmosphere lingered for a few moments longer, Aria still giggling beside Seraphina as Adrian gave her one last affectionate pat on the head.
But duty called.
The moment breakfast concluded, the dining hall erupted into motion. Isabella rose first, her teacup left perfectly empty upon the saucer. "Sophia, Eve—with me." Her crimson eyes gleamed with dark promise. "Let's see how quickly cultists sing when stripped of their delusions."
Sophia shot one last searching look at Adrian before following, her boots clicking sharply against marble.
Eve trailed behind like a shadow, rolling up her sleeves with grim anticipation. The heavy oak doors swung shut behind them with ominous finality.
Adrian exhaled, his fingers lingering on Aria's head for a heartbeat longer before gently passing her to Rosalyn.
"Be good a girl and play with your mother Rosalyn, okay," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the crown of her hair. "Papa have important work to do now."
Aria pouted but didn't protest, as she had been promised by Adrian to play with her.
Christine lingered by the doorway, her eyes darting between them and the child.
"I'll... stay with her and keep her company," she offered.
Seraphina nodded, her hand patting Christine's head in silent thanks before turning to Adrian.
Adrian and Seraphina exchanged a brief look.
"It’s time," Adrian said, his voice dropping into the firm tone of the Everhart Lord — the man not only responsible for this household but for protecting everyone in it.
They made their way through the winding corridors of Everhart Manor until they reached a secluded chamber fortified with layers of protective enchantments.
This was the private ritual room Seraphina had prepared right after arriving at the manor yesterday — for the sole purpose of prying knowledge from the Abyssal Harbinger's captured soul.
The air inside was thick with arcane energy, runes etched into the very stone beneath their feet glowing faintly in rhythm with the pulsing energy radiating from the containment crystal that floated above a dark altar.
Within the crystal, the Abyssal Harbinger's soul roiled — a writhing mass of corrupted spiritual energy, its malevolent presence muted by Seraphina’s sealing techniques.
Adrian stood with his arms crossed, his eyes narrowing.
"We prioritize undoing the curse on Isolda first," Adrian stated coldly.
"That curse has plagued Chris and Christine’s mother long enough. We get that information first — then we deal with anything else this thing knows."
Seraphina nodded firmly, her expression equally serious. "Agreed. Curses of that level should be easy for a higher entity like Abyssal Harbinger to remove."
She raised her staff, layers of sealing magic beginning to unravel just enough to allow communication — not enough to let the soul lash out or resist.
The crystal dimmed for a brief second — then flickered with a sickly violet glow as a warped voice echoed in the room, reverberating through the magic circle.
"Ahhh... you dare do this to me... you filthy human scum..."
Adrian stood unmoving, his crimson eyes sharp as blades as the Abyssal Harbinger's voice roared within the chamber.
"You dare bind me...! Filthy wretches... Mortal garbage! Insignificant insects crawling upon the earth you defile! I will see your blood boil from your veins! I will consume your flesh and scatter your souls to the void!"
The corrupted soul thrashed violently within the containment crystal, dark tendrils of abyssal energy slamming futilely against the sealing runes etched into the chamber walls. Each word it spat dripped with venomous hatred — the echo of a creature once feared in life, now reduced to a wrathful fragment of its former self.