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The Slave's Son Saga [Grimdark Progression Fantasy]
Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-two: A Cold Winter Night (Part One)

Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-two: A Cold Winter Night (Part One)

Alistar stared at the wide-eyed infant with a tender expression, amazed at how much she’d grown in such a short time. Patricia had given birth to Little Lauren during the week that Alistar’s relatives had visited back in the summertime, which put her age at almost six months now that the last of the autumn leaves had fallen from their bleak-bodied perches. She already had a small head of hair that was a similar in shading to her mother’s long, sable strands, the two sharing the same dark eyes as well.

Wondering which of his parents he’d resembled more as an infant, he felt a bit of bitterness at the thought that his parents had managed to raise him up from a similar age in the dreaded tunnels of Crystellum. Knowing what sort of hardships they had suffered through in their final years, he could only imagine the strife and struggle that must have gone into keeping him safe and well during his youngest years.

“Whatever you’re thinking, I’d suggest you stop.” Stason proffered his daughter with gentle hands, holding her in front of Alistar with a warm look in his almond eyes. “Why don’t you hold her? It’s a wonderful feeling, that.”

Alistar hesitated, glancing at Patricia where she sat beside her husband at their usual spot around the dinner table.

“Go on,” said the young mother, her smile as captivating as ever as she fixed him with an encouraging gaze from across the table. “She’ll be living here alongside us from now on, so you’ll be something of an older brother to her in the future. There’s no need for any shyness, Alistar.”

“A brother…?”

“Does that mean I get to be the sister?” Anice stood up from her seat at Patricia’s side and rushed around the table to give Stason an excited look. “If Alie won’t do it, then can I hold her?”

Sensing a potential disaster, Alistar instinctively reached out for Little Lauren—a nickname that Madeline had given the girl upon first laying eyes upon her—and accepted her bundled up form from her father. This brought on a dejected frown from Anice, though he didn’t pay her any mind as he invested all of his focus into being as careful as possible with the tiny life that he now held in his arms. He couldn’t help but laugh when the curious infant looked up at him with innocent intrigue and then reached out to grab at his nose with her pudgy little hands, a slightly ticklish action that he allowed with a smile. His expression was mirrored by her parents along with everyone else that had remained in the dining hall for a post-lunch cup of tea.

“How is it, Alie?”

“It’s…very pleasant.”

How else could he describe it? Lauren was like a little puppy that was able to generate happiness from simply holding her, with an innate sweetness that Alistar had never seen in any adults aside from his mother.

“How fortunate for you.”

Seeing the look of yearning that his cousin was sending his way, he glanced at Patricia and then gently handed the baby to Anice after receiving a discreet nod of approval. Contrary to what Alistar had expected, his cousin gazed down at Little Lauren with unrecognizable warmth, her lips pulled back in a light smile that was full of awe and appreciation. Something about the level of care that Anice showed made him feel bad for worrying that she might mishandle the child.

Madeline volunteered to be the next to hold the baby, wondering aloud when Alder might return to the estate.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

“It seems like he’s never around anymore,” she sighed, looking into Little Lauren’s eyes with a peculiar sense of longing. “Is it really so important, whatever they’re doing down there?”

“He hasn’t told you?” said Patricia, a bit surprised. “He’s been so busy at the collegia lately, I figured he’d tell you if anything.”

“Our lord has forbidden him from telling anyone. I wonder what it could be?”

“Hey Alie, didn’t Papa show you what he was working on? You can tell us, can’t you?”

Alistar shook his head with some reluctance, a bit guilty as he said, “If Uncle doesn’t want anyone to know, then I’m sure he has his reasons. I can say, though, that he’s working on a few different things that will greatly improve the lives of the common people.”

“That’s just how he is,” sighed Stason, a furrow to his strong brown brows. “Always working, those two, and never for themselves.”

“I wish Papa wasn’t always so busy.” In a lower, grumbling voice, Anice added, “I see the granny that sells sugar sticks more than I see him.”

Caedmon had slept at the collegia for the past three days, which could only mean that he had either encountered an obstacle in his research or that he and his colleagues had made significant progress on one of their projects. Still, Alistar didn’t like how much his uncle’s absence affected Anice. His cousin had been very downcast as of late, not even having the heart to go off into the city to spend time with her friends.

“This is only temporary,” assured Madeline in a quiet voice, her gentle gaze never leaving the baby. “It won’t be long before he finishes up with whatever he’s working on, and after that I’m sure he will be around much more often.” Little Lauren was playing with her long, wavy hair, two tiny hands grasping at a sheet of liquid sand.

The other adults voiced their agreement, something about their tones suggesting that they might have a talk with their lord at a later time if things didn’t play out in such a fashion.

Should I invite everyone over for a picnic?

Perhaps getting everybody together would help to cheer up Anice. The only problem was that the amount of free time he allowed himself in a given day was shrinking drastically, to the point that he now had nearly no time for personal leisure. Between training with Tramon, visiting Mr. Herst, studying with Mr. Albeck and Mrs. Dawn, and undergoing his own personal studies and research, it would be quite troublesome to find the time for such a gathering.

I wonder if Uncle thinks this way about his work? Thinking this, Alistar decided to set some time aside to look out for his cousin.

“If he doesn’t want to come home, then he doesn’t want to come home.” Crossing her bare arms, Anice turned her head in a dismissive manner. When a brief quiet ensued, she glanced at Alistar and said, “Anyway, have you decided on what you’re getting me for my Name Day yet?”

Janine began to refill everyone’s tea with a quiet, freckled smile, the older girl having taken on Patricia’s duties in stride since her first days on the job.

“Enough with that, will you? There’s still around half a year until then.”

She had asked him several times a month ever since she had turned fourteen.

“Don’t try and fool me.” Looking smug, she gave a pink-lipped smile and leaned back in her chair. “I know you’ve been saving most of your allowance ever since you moved in.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Had she gone snooping through his room again? Judging by the victorious look in her eyes—one she only wore when she had absolute confidence in herself—he felt a strong suspicion that she had.

“So if I were to look in the second drawer of your work desk, I wouldn’t find a bag with 150—with 145 silver half-lucets inside?”

“You… Maybe I won’t get you anything.”

Suddenly anxious, Anice tried to take back her words, though the conversation ended with him telling her to respect his privacy and to stop going through his stuff. He dismissed himself a short while after, as he had a lesson with Mr. Albeck in the coming hour. Retreating to his room, he pocketed the key to the door as soon as he entered. He would have to lock his door every time he left his room from here on out, for the fact that Anice was still entering it without permission was a serious cause for worry. His mother’s locket wasn’t particularly well hidden, within which sat the mysterious magic crystal that he had found in Crystellum. Even if it was just for a moment, simply grazing a finger against this treasure would result in an immediate, anguishing death for anyone unlucky enough to come into contact with it.