The Girl Who Loved Her Family
The Duchy of Valemont was known throughout the empire for its vast forests, silver rivers, and beautiful fields that seemed to stretch endlessly beneath the blue sky.
At the heart of the duchy stood a magnificent castle surrounded by gardens.
It was home to the ducal family.
And within those walls lived a little girl who believed she had the happiest family in the world.
Her name was Elara.
At the age of twelve, Elara had already decided that there was nothing in the world more precious than her family.
Her father, Duke Adrian Valemont, was a stern and respected man outside the castle.
To his people, he was a powerful duke.
To the imperial court, he was a loyal noble.
To the knights who served him, he was a strict but fair lord.
But to Elara?
He was simply her father.
The man who carried her on his shoulders when she was small.
The man who secretly gave her sweets despite her mother’s warnings.
The man who pretended not to notice when she stole his books and tried to understand the complicated maps inside them.
And then there was her mother.
Lady Celeste.
She was gentle, warm, and endlessly patient.
Whenever Elara came running into her mother’s study with another strange question, Celeste would put aside whatever she was doing and listen.
“Mother!”
The twelve-year-old girl burst into the room one spring afternoon.
Celeste looked up from her embroidery.
“What happened?”
“Father says I’m too young to ride one of the duchy’s horses.”
Celeste smiled.
“Your father is probably right.”
Elara’s expression immediately fell.
“But I’m not a child!”
Celeste laughed softly.
“You are twelve.”
“Exactly! I’m practically an adult.”
“Of course.”
“You don’t believe me.”
“I believe you are very determined.”
Elara folded her arms.
“That’s the same thing.”
Celeste laughed again.
Elara climbed onto the chair beside her mother and leaned against her.
For a while, neither spoke.
Outside the window, birds sang among the flowering trees.
It was peaceful.
It was ordinary.
And neither of them knew that Elara would one day remember that afternoon as one of the happiest moments of her childhood.
The following months passed peacefully.
Elara continued her studies.
She learned history, mathematics, etiquette, literature, swordsmanship, and basic magic.
Her father insisted that a future duchess should know how to defend herself.
Her mother insisted that a future duchess should know how to understand people.
Elara listened to both.
She was not particularly interested in politics.
She preferred the gardens.
She loved books.
She loved riding.
Most of all, she loved spending time with her parents.
Whenever Duke Adrian returned from managing the duchy, Elara would run to meet him.
“Father!”
She would throw her arms around him.
Adrian would catch her and laugh.
“You’ve grown again.”
“You say that every time.”
“Because you keep growing.”
“I’ll stop.”
“You cannot.”
“Then I’ll just grow very slowly.”
Her father smiled.
Those moments were small.
Simple.
But they were everything to her.
Then winter came.
And with it came the sickness.
At first, it seemed harmless.
A fever here.
A cough there.
The physicians believed it was merely another seasonal illness.
But within weeks, villages throughout the duchy began reporting cases.
People became sick.
Some recovered.
Others did not.
The epidemic spread faster than anyone expected.
The castle gates were closed.
Travel was restricted.
Physicians worked day and night.
Duke Adrian personally ordered medicine to be sent to every village.
And Celeste spent her days helping organize supplies for those who needed them.
Elara watched her parents become increasingly exhausted.
One evening, she found her mother standing near the window.
“Mother?”
Celeste turned.
“Elara.”
“You haven’t eaten.”
Celeste smiled.
“I will.”
“You said that yesterday.”
“Did I?”
“Yes.”
Elara walked toward her.
Her mother’s face looked unusually pale.
Elara touched her hand.
It was warm.
Too warm.
“Mother...”
Celeste immediately understood.
“I’m fine.”
“You have a fever.”
“It’s nothing.”
Elara shook her head.
“You should see the physician.”
Celeste knelt before her daughter.
“Don’t worry.”
“But—”
“Elara.”
Her mother gently touched her cheek.
“Whatever happens, you must never be afraid of loving people.”
Elara frowned.
“Why are you saying that?”
Celeste smiled sadly.
“Because love is the most precious thing we have.”
Elara did not understand.
Not then.
The next morning, her mother could no longer get out of bed.
The physician came.
Then another.
Then another.
Her father refused to leave her side.
For days, Elara waited outside the bedroom.
Every time the door opened, she stood.
“Is Mother better?”
Sometimes the physicians said nothing.
Sometimes they told her to remain hopeful.
Her father became quieter.
The strong duke who never seemed frightened suddenly looked like an ordinary man terrified of losing the person he loved.
One night, Elara woke to the sound of crying.
She left her room and walked toward her parents’ chamber.
The door was slightly open.
Her father was sitting beside her mother’s bed.
He was holding Celeste’s hand.
Elara had never seen him cry before.
Not once.
She stood frozen in the doorway.
“Father?”
Adrian looked toward her.
For a moment, he couldn’t speak.
Then he stood and walked toward her.
Elara looked past him.
Her mother was lying peacefully on the bed.
Too peacefully.
“Is Mother sleeping?”
Adrian closed his eyes.
Elara’s heart began to race.
“Father?”
He knelt before her.
His hands trembled as he held her shoulders.
“Elara...”
She stared at him.
“Where is Mother?”
Adrian pulled her into his arms.
And for the first time in her life, Elara heard her father break down completely.
Her mother had died.
The epidemic had taken her.
And the little girl who believed her family would always be together suddenly learned that forever was not something the world promised.
The funeral was held beneath a gray sky.
Elara stood beside her father.
She wore black.
She didn’t cry.
Not because she wasn’t sad.
She simply couldn’t understand how someone who had been there yesterday could be gone today.
People came to offer condolences.
Nobles bowed their heads.
Servants wept.
The people of the duchy mourned the duchess they had loved.
But Elara heard very little.
She kept staring at the coffin.
At the flowers.
At the grave.
At the place where her mother would soon rest.
When everyone finally left, she remained standing there.
Her father approached her.
“Elara.”
She looked up.
“Father...”
“Let’s go home.”
She shook her head.
“This isn’t home.”
Adrian’s heart broke.
Elara looked toward the grave.
“Mother is here.”
He knelt beside her.
“I know.”
“Then I want to stay.”
“You can’t.”
“Why?”
“Because your mother would want you to live.”
Elara’s eyes finally filled with tears.
“How can I live when she’s gone?”
Adrian pulled her close.
“I don’t know.”
His voice trembled.
“But we’ll learn.”
That night, father and daughter returned to the castle together.
The corridors were the same.
The gardens were the same.
The rooms were the same.
But everything felt different.
Her mother’s chair remained beside the window.
Her books were still on the shelves.
Her embroidery remained unfinished.
Her perfume still lingered faintly in her room.
Elara stood there for a long time.
Then she picked up the unfinished embroidery.
She held it against her chest.
And finally, she cried.
Her father stood outside the doorway.
He wanted to tell her that everything would be all right.
But he knew better.
Some wounds could not be healed with words.
So he simply entered the room and held his daughter.
From that day forward, they had only each other.
And neither of them knew that the years ahead would bring another family into their lives...
A family neither of them had expected.
A little boy who would one day become the reason Elara refused to give up.
But for now, she was only a twelve-year-old girl grieving for her mother.
And her father was only a man trying to keep his daughter from falling apart.
Together, they began again.
