Return of the General's Daughter-Chapter 569: The Reunion

After settling Krista safely in a room at the inn, the envoys of Azurverda began their preparations for the afternoon’s banquet. Under the relentless urging of the men—Kasmeri, Netser, Bernard, Aramis, and even Logan—Lara finally surrendered her disguise. With a resigned sigh, she shed Kane Mendel’s attire and stepped into a flowing crimson gown that clung to her like living fire.

"Empress, you look lovely," Nympha breathed, her eyes bright with admiration. "Thank you for coming as yourself. If I were the only woman among us, I don’t think I’d have the courage to walk through those doors."

"You should feel honored," Bernard teased, looping an arm around his wife. "The only rose among these thorns. Though tonight, it seems my beautiful wife will have competition."

Nympha’s smile warmed. Three years of marriage had yet to dull the affection between her and Bernard. As merchants, they roamed far from home, tirelessly expanding the trade routes of Alaric and Lara. Alongside Kasmeri, they formed the heart of the delegation tasked with negotiating the new treaties between Azurverda and Westalis.

Lara smoothed a hand over the crimson fabric, its soft weight a reminder of the decision she had made. "At first, I didn’t think it wise to attend as a woman, knowing how Westalis regards us," she admitted. "But if I hide behind a mask, wouldn’t that betray my own principles?"

Her reflection in the polished metal mirror stared back—Lara, not Kane. Powerful, unyielding, and wholly herself.

...

At the palace gates, Netser stepped onto the old cobblestone path—stones he had once raced across as a boy at his father’s side, their arms full of exotic trinkets from distant lands. The rhythm of his boots echoed memories: his father’s laughter, his sister’s eager footsteps trailing behind, the warm glow of home. But as he walked further, the familiarity thinned. The gardens were no longer the wild bursts of color he remembered; they had been reshaped, pruned into something elegant yet foreign. Even the palace seemed to wear a new face, its grandeur sharper, colder.

"Netser, you’re zoning out," Logan said, just as he bumped into him. Netser didn’t react. His entire body had gone still, breath locked in his chest. His gaze was fixed across the lily-strewn pond where the sunlight brushed over a lone figure in a yellow dress.

His heart slammed hard against his ribs.

It can’t be... No. I buried this hope years ago. I watched the flames swallow everything. I saw her—trapped. I saw her—

But the silhouette... the tilt of her head, the way her hands rested gently at her sides. She has grown taller and more mature, but her posture has remained the same.

"Could it be... could it be her?" His whisper trembled with disbelief.

Before Logan could tease him again, Netser was already moving. First a hesitant step, then another—and then he broke into a desperate run, propelled by fear, longing, and a sliver of hope.

"Sister... is... is that you?" His voice cracked as if the words themselves were fragile.

The woman stopped. Her back straightened. Slowly—so slowly—she turned.

The face that met his was similar to his. One of the faces that his heart yearned for every day for three agonizing years. Older now, touched with sorrow, but unmistakably hers.

"Brother... you—You are alive." She whispered.

Her voice shattered into a sob as she flung herself into his arms. Netser caught her, clinging to her as if she might vanish again if he loosened his grip even for a moment.

"Sister... you’re really alive." His breath hitched; his whole body trembled. "I thought—I thought you died in the fire. I saw you trapped before they dragged me away. I thought I lost you."The weight of everything he had endured pressed down on him at once. His knees buckled, and he would have collapsed if someone had not caught him from behind.

Ziva’s words spilled out between sobs. "Landor came and saved Netza and me. But he... he couldn’t save everyone. Father and Mother... they didn’t make it."

Netser’s blood turned cold.

"Landor... saved you?" he asked, confusion, resentment, and disbelief warring in his voice.

"Yes, Brother." Ziva did not loosen her hold on him, as though afraid he might disappear too.

"Can you let my wife go now?" came a voice from behind them. "You’re choking her."

Netser froze.

That voice.

He turned slowly, every muscle in his body coiling tight. Standing behind him was the man who had once been like a brother—Landor. The same man Netser believed had abandoned him in his darkest moment, the man whose name had fueled his rage for years. The man he had sworn to confront if fate ever brought them together again.

"You."

The single word was a blade.

He disentangled himself from Ziva and faced Landor fully. The moment their eyes met, all the grief, betrayal, and anger he had locked inside erupted.

He struck. The punch landed with a crack, sending Landor stumbling. "How dare you! How could you marry my sister?" Netser roared, drawing back his fist for another blow—but Ziva rushed between them.

"Brother, stop!" she cried, arms outstretched. "He is my husband now. He saved Netza and me. He saved me, Brother. And... I love him. You cannot hurt him."

Her trembling voice pierced through the haze of his fury. Netser stood there, chest heaving, torn between the joy of having his sister back and the unresolved anguish that had shaped every day of his life since the fire.

"Netser, I love your family... just like they were my own." Landor’s voice wavered, rough with guilt and a grief that had clearly lived inside him for years. He did not move to defend himself; he merely stood there, shoulders squared yet trembling faintly, as if bracing for another blow.

"That time... the fire... I was late. And my abilities—my strength—it wasn’t enough. I could only save your two sisters." His jaw clenched as the memory flickered across his face like a shadow. "I wanted to go back for the others. I tried. I really tried. I wished I could have done more.

The silence stretched unbearably.

Landor swallowed hard and continued, voice cracking. "You know I loved Ziva even before the fire. I tried to hide it, but you always saw more than you let on." He gave a small, sad exhale. "And when I realized she still lived... that I had managed to save her... I made a vow that day. If fate allowed it, I would never leave her unprotected again."