CHAPTER 454: CHAPTER 454: JUST ANOTHER DAY

Ten years later

The Fitzgeralt manor had always been lively, but today it thrummed with a particular kind of electricity, one that only appeared when one of the boys came home.

Windstone had tried, unsuccessfully, to maintain order for the past hour. Dean had done at least three laps around the foyer, two around the courtyard, and one through Trevor’s office before being gently redirected toward the entrance.

"Dean," Windstone warned, voice calm but carrying the weight of forty years of experience. "If you run down that staircase again, I will inform your father that you attempted to vault the bannister."

Dean, ten years old and glowing with excitement, skidded to a stop. "I didn’t vault it," he said earnestly. "I just... leaned."

The boy grew to be a perfect mix of Lucas and Trevor; his hair was blonde, his eyes were a deep, royal purple, and the mischief was absolutely Trevor’s. Lucius still insisted on provoking Lucas about it, claiming Dean looked suspiciously like Dax. He had risked his life exactly once making that joke while Dax himself was present.

Dax had stared at him for three solid seconds, eyes narrowed, before saying,

"If the boy were mine, he’d be taller."

Lucius had shut up for a week.

Windstone exhaled slowly, pulling Dean’s attention back to the present. "Please stand still, young master. Your brother will be here any moment."

Dean nodded, though his body still vibrated like he was holding back a lightning bolt.

The manor doors opened.

And Sebastian stepped inside.

Sixteen suited him beautifully. He had grown taller than Trevor’s shoulder already, his features sharper, his posture confident from academy training. His curls were darker now, almost black in the right light, and he carried himself with the quiet discipline of someone who knew exactly who he was becoming.

Dean didn’t care about any of that.

He launched.

"SEBASTIAN!"

Sebastian barely had time to drop his bag before Dean collided with him. He caught him on instinct, laughing breathlessly as Dean wrapped arms and legs around him like a koala.

"Hey," Sebastian laughed, pulling him close. "Missed me?"

Dean clung harder. "A WEEK. It was a whole WEEK."

Windstone cleared his throat, straightening his vest. "Please release your brother before he suffocates, young master Dean."

Dean ignored that completely.

Trevor and Lucas appeared at the top of the staircase just in time to see Sebastian straighten with Dean still glued to him.

Trevor’s eyes softened.

Lucas’s chest warmed in that quiet way that never went away.

Sebastian approached them with Dean still attached and bent enough for Trevor to cup his face.

"Welcome home," Trevor murmured.

Sebastian’s smile gentled, the confident academy veneer slipping away in the presence of his parents. "Hi, Dad."

Lucas stepped forward next, pulling him into a proper embrace. "How was the week?"

"Long," Sebastian admitted. "Exams. Projects. Bad cafeteria food. The usual."

"And the teachers?" Trevor asked.

"Terrifying," Sebastian replied. "But I think they like me."

Dean finally slid down, landing lightly on his feet. "I like you too," he declared.

Sebastian ruffled his hair. "You better."

Lucas looked between them, heart catching for a moment. For all the chaos and fear of past lives, for all the nightmares and inherited regrets, this simple moment, felt like victory.

"Dinner is ready when you are, my lord," Windstone announced. "I took the liberty of preparing Sebastian’s preferred welcome meal."

Sebastian blinked at him. "You remembered?"

Windstone placed a hand on his chest with exaggerated dignity. "I forget nothing. I merely wait for the appropriate moment to weaponize my knowledge."

Dean grinned. "That means yes."

Sebastian laughed, the sound young and bright and only half civilized by academy etiquette.

Lucas cupped Dean’s shoulder. "Come on. Dinner before everything gets cold."

Dean immediately took off toward the dining room, only for Windstone to intercept him with the precision of a seasoned general. "Walking, young master. Not sprinting."

Dean nodded and then proceeded to walk in the fastest, most aggressive walk possible.

Sebastian snorted. "He’s definitely related to Dad."

Trevor raised an eyebrow. "You’re not wrong."

—

The dining room glowed in warm golden light, the long table set with Windstone’s characteristic elegance, which Trevor once complained was too elegant for a family that regularly dealt with glitter catastrophes and indoor soccer matches.

Dean sat beside Sebastian, vibrating with excitement, recounting every boring detail of his week as if delivering espionage-grade intelligence.

"And then Aunt Mia took me to the museum, and she said if I touched anything, I’d lose rights to her brownies for a month, can you believe that? A whole month? I mean, what kind of monster..."

Lucas choked on his water. "Mia said that?"

"Yes!" Dean huffed dramatically. "She is terrifying."

Trevor smiled. "She learned from the best."

Sebastian grinned. "Who? Papa?"

"No," Trevor said. "Cressida."

Lucas swatted his arm. "Stop teaching them politics during dinner."

But he was smiling, soft around the edges.

Sebastian talked about academy life, his strategy classes, his friends, and the weekly formal dinner where he had to wear the jacket he hated. He filled the air the way only a boy returning home after days of discipline and structure could.

Lucas watched him with quiet pride.

Trevor listened with the patient amusement of a man who saw his own teenage self in every complaint and every achievement.

Dean simply stared at Sebastian with big, adoring eyes, hanging on every word.

For a while, everything was perfect.

Sebastian returned to his room after dinner, still warm from laughter and the easy comfort of being home. His travel bag lay half-unzipped on the floor, the contents already spilling out the way they always did when he had more enthusiasm than time.

He fished through papers, pulling out the familiar white form his academy required for overnight permissions. It was ridiculous, in his opinion, that the same sheet needed a physical signature when the school had already emailed a digital copy two days ago.

He stood at his desk, tapping the corner of the page with one finger. "Why do they even bother?" he muttered. "It’s literally the same form."

He glanced toward the door, debating whether he should hunt down his parents now or wait until morning. Trevor usually signed things faster. Lucas read every line twice, even when it was identical to the last thousand sheets.

Sebastian huffed a quiet laugh at that thought. He missed this. The annoying, ordinary things that made home feel like home.

But his smile dimmed a little.

He pressed a hand to his temple.

Just a brief touch. A reflex. He barely registered it.

The room wasn’t hot. But his skin felt warm. Warmer than normal.

He blinked and shook the feeling off.

"Probably tired," he told himself.

He grabbed the form and headed down the hallway, footsteps steady against the carpet. He passed one of the guest rooms, then the reading alcove, then the carved wooden screen leading to Trevor’s office.

He reached for the door.

The scent hit him first, it was stronger than usual. Like his father’s cologne mingled with something deeper.

He frowned, hand still hovering above the door handle.

’Why doest it smell so intense?’

Trevor wasn’t even wearing cologne tonight.

Sebastian blinked again. His heartbeat kicked once, sharp and fast, like something inside him had tripped.

’Okay. Weird.’

He exhaled slowly and pushed the door open.

Trevor looked up from his desk. "Hey. Everything okay?"

Sebastian held up the paper. "Need a signature."

Trevor reached out for it but paused, his eyes narrowed a fraction. Trevor had always been frighteningly perceptive.

"Sebastian," he said slowly. "You’re flushed."

Sebastian blinked. "No, I’m not. It’s just... warm?"

Trevor leaned forward slightly, studying him. "Is it?"

Sebastian opened his mouth to answer, but a strange tightness coiled in his chest, deep pressure building from the inside.

He inhaled sharply.

Trevor stood immediately.

"Sit," Trevor said, his voice calm but edged with something that made Sebastian obey without thinking.

Sebastian sank into the chair by the desk. He ran a thumb across the bridge of his nose, trying to focus.

"Dad, it’s nothing," he said, a little too quickly. "Probably just the trip."

But then his pulse fluttered again, another sharp, unexpected thud.